In my previous life, I mostly avoided singing in public mostly for the sake of others. The cutting of my lullaby song to baby Jesus in the Christmas play in 5th grade, though well justified, left in me a permanent fear of singing in public and a belief that I should refrain from doing so if possible.
Until about a week and a half ago when I joined the teacher’s choir at my school. My school’s director had announced at a teacher’s meeting that there would be a regional competition and that everyone should come to choir practice that afternoon. She then signaled out the younger teachers in the room by calling out our names and telling us to be present. If she had not addressed me directly about it, I would most likely not have given it a shot. My director, however, is one of the few people in my life who I have come across who legitimately intimidates me. I decided I would go, and then spent the rest of the day mulling over this decision while still knowing full when I would be in the performance hall after school as requested. I rocked up to the first rehearsal excited to get some Ukrainian songs under my belt and hoping not to make a fool out of myself, but also expecting a fairly informal affair. Like ping-pong, choir competitions are a serious business. At the end of the rehearsal, which I thought I had managed to get through and enjoy without displaying my ineptitude, the choir director asked those of us who were new to stay after to sing a bit of what we had learned today solo to see if we could in fact stay to sing in the choir. There are moments when I hope I misunderstood whatever Ukrainian was just said to me, this was one of those moments. I had sadly understood correctly. My friend stepped up to sing. She happened to have spent her childhood attending the music school in our village, received top marks, and is an excellent singer. Memories of the various times I had to sing solos for music tests in school flooded my mind and choked my air passage. The image of the middle school music teacher telling me we would not be including Mary’s lullaby song in the final performance was nearly crippling. Then it was my turn. I proceeded to stumble through parts of the two songs we had learned having more difficulty reading the cursive Ukrainian writing to get the words right than having a problem with the notes. I finished and looked up to see my director with an amused smile on her face I’m fairly certain stifling laughter. I then looked at the music director who was just sort of looking between me and the director until finally saying with a bit of a sigh, sure, I guess you can sing with us. I started apologizing profusely and in stumbling Ukrainian trying to explain this was more of a lark/experiment in stepping outside of comfort zones and that she did not need to feel compelled to include me if I was going to bring them down. Then, pitying me even more I believe, told me that I in fact had to keep singing with them. I left extremely embarrassed, but knowing I would be coming back to rehearsal the next day.
And I did. And my embarrassment faded, And I have loved every rehearsal since. And I have learned some beautiful Ukrainian songs and gotten a chance to spend more time with some of the coolest teachers in school.
The day of our competition came. I had been told to wear a long black skirt (did not have) and a white blouse (that I also did not have.) My friend lent me a black skirt, but the day before the performance came and I was still without a blouse. I busted a move to my oblast center and bought what I think is a lovely blouse, but with short sleeves. Apparently, I missed the memo that included the regulations for the blouse and the mandatory condition that it be long sleeved. I arrived at school on Sunday morning for the competition looking pretty stellar to be bombarded by women telling me the short sleeves really would not do. Luckily, and in retrospect as I should have expected, several women brought extra blouses for me and I was quickly told to put one on, then to change into another, until they all agreed on the one that was the best. The blouse I wore somewhat ironically was one of my director’s. We performed first. On my way to school I was not nervous and wondered if I would once I was standing in front of the audience and jury. Surprisingly, I was probably the least nervous that I have ever been while doing anything in front of a group of people, including a jury, and I really enjoyed myself.
The real run, however, came after our performance. We stayed in the hall to watch a few of the other performances and then were all called down to our teacher’s lounge. They had planned a nice little lunch for us and we quickly arranged the teacher’s lounge for our meal. As at all Ukrainian occasions that are considered occasions, there was vodka all around. The lunch was hilarious as the group would suddenly break into different songs. The singing continued even after our school’s director came down to tell us to keep it quiet because we could be heard all the way up on the third floor and it was distracting to the other groups still performing.
As it turns out, we won first place in our region and will be singing again this weekend in the all-oblast competition. Go Klevan-2! I was very happy to hear that my new singing experiment was not going to be nipped in the bud quite so quickly.
Anna said,
May 31, 2009 @ 4:03 pm
Lu-le my liking my dear one my sweet one
Lu-le my liking, my own dear darling