Just sing

My elementary school had a well respected choir. The choir director, Miss Brittingham, would hold rehearsals each year, and a select group of 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders would be chosen as that year's choir. Being in the choir was a Big Deal. Choir members got to be out of class each week for rehearsals, they got to go on field trips to performances, and—best of all—they got to say, "I'm in the choir." I tried out all three years I was eligible and got in once. I was thrilled the year I got in, of course, but what I remember more is the years I didn't. Not making the cut was pretty traumatic. I wasn't good enough.

I took choir classes in middle school and junior high, but the choir directors were uninspiring at best and pompous autocrats at worst. They did not improve my singing ability or my self-esteem, and by the time I got to high school, I was done. I had decided that I was, at best, a mediocre singer and that I should limit myself to singing along with the radio.

(I wasn't really wrong, by the way. I am a mediocre singer: my range is pretty limited, and my ability to sing on key... well, it fluctuates.)

So there I was, going through life as a mediocre singer—or rather, not thinking of myself as a singer at all—crooning rock-n-roll lullabies to my babies, belting out classic rock during my commute, shouting out Christmas carols with daughters and nieces who were quite happy to be off key with me.

And then one day at LIFE is Good 2009, Frank and Jeff and Russ said, "Hey, we're doing 'Gloria' for the talent show, and we need backup chicks."

And just like that, I became a backup singer. I've spent the last year singing. I've performed shows in public. I even sang lead on one song in January and plan to do so again in May. It has been pure, perfectly imperfect fun.

And the really interesting thing is that now, in my 40s, because I am doing it, I am becoming a better singer. I have learned so much about technique and breath control and harmonizing and taking cues from the musicians and my fellow chicks. My range is still limited, but it's enough. And I've discovered that when one is performing live music with a rock-n-roll band, being off key now and then is not the end of the world. Usually nobody notices.

G. K. Chesterton said, "Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." What he could have added is that by doing, you might find "badly" changing to "better and better," and even if you don't, it can be a helluva good time along the way.