Can We Make Singing Inclusive Again?
Can We Make Singing Inclusive Again?
Asking for all of humanity’s sanity!
The Exclusivity of Singing is killing Joy.
That might be an over-dramatization, but I’m feeling a bit spicy today.
The almost daily counsel I give and have given to singers over the years on being “good enough” tells me that we (society) is doing something wrong. It’s a common experience for most voice teachers I know; and at some point, we have dealt with the insecurity as well.
Do instrumentalists carry this same burdensome weight? I play a few instruments half-decently, but my larger experience and identity is as a singer.
Singing is different from Playing
We don’t refer to playing the voice like we do playing the guitar.
Is it our language that evokes the outsider psychology, or the psychology of our history/stories that created the language?
The Instrument v. The Player/Person
Guitar player v. Guitarist
Piano player v. Pianist
Every instrument v. —ist
And, then there is…
Singer v. Vocalist
Different language.
We don’t say ‘Vocal/voice player’
The Player Plays
The Singer Sings
The -ist is for what?
The Elite?
The Elitist?
The Soloist.
Is this where our ‘hierarchy of talent’ thinking comes from?
Does it help create our limiting beliefs?
Singing and Running
I am frequently ruminating/wondering/musing on the fear that shows up even when people desperately desire to sing. And, how our culture has perpetuated myths and misconceptions about people being able to sing or not, rather than seeing it as learning a skill, like any other instrument, or sport.
Maybe because singing sits in this unique intersection of having the instrument inside our BODY, people assume that you have it or you don’t. But, wait…
I have working vocal folds, therefore I can speak. I can sing too.
I have working legs therefore I can walk. I can run too.
Living with the assumption that one can or can’t sing, we have created a huge obstacle for people to experience community, connection, exhilaration, joy, not to mention vocalizing expression and finding connection between the voice and emotional expression.
I don’t think there is such a thing as “a natural”. A person who has an affinity towards singing or playing (instrument or sport), usually has an interest in doing AND learning how to do it.
There are actually more similarities in Singing and Playing Sports, than instruments, if we are talking about training the body!
I can run. I don’t want to run. I have, and it takes more effort than I’d like. I wonder if people think that singing doesn’t take effort? It does. It takes physical and mental effort, not to mention learning the musical components too.
Any identifying non-runner who has done a Couch to 5k, knows it can be done. Right? That was me. Nope. I don’t run. Long story, but I got coerced into running a 10k. I did it. I didn’t really enjoy it, but I did it. During my training for it, I almost stopped b/c I was having a hard time breathing. Know what I did? Got some coaching. Read “Chi Running” and I made it work for me. Changed the way I was breathing, and I could go on without as much stress.
Vocal Athletes
ATHLETE. One word to describe any player of any sport.
MUSICIAN. One word to describe a player or singer?
Some might use this, but there is trouble with this language when people differentiate playing and singing, which many do. Le sigh… Read that musing on myths here.
The field of Vocology (the study of Voice) has come out in recent years (20?) with more parallels to singing and athleticism, using Exercise Physiology in understanding how the voice works in demand of all of the musical devices required.
Athletes are training their bodies to do something specific. Coordinating and strengthening and requiring flexibility and agility for specific muscles to do certain things.
I remember my early voice teachers comparing the kind of breathing we do in singing to breathing while long distance running or swimming; using measured rhythmic breaths with longer exhales. Of course, that analogy works best for singing classical music, or ballads with long flowy phrases.
Interesting that those are the two fields that just use the body; no ball/stick/skate, etc. Gymnasts mostly just use their body; although many of their categories use an apparatus. I’m sure there are others.
Any golfer I’ve ever had in my studio has seen immediate parallels in learning the execution of sound, as they become aware of all of the parts of their body that need to align and work together to make their voice respond as desired.
The 1st edition of The Vocal Athlete came out in 2014, so these comparisons are fairly recent in the history of this larger discussion. If you want this book, maybe wait for the 3rd edition, coming out this year. I got to contribute an exercise! I’ve had the privilege of learning from the authors, Wendy LeBorgne and Marci Rosenberg, for more than a dozen years.
If we could make this comparative connection to athletes general knowledge, perhaps more people would adjust their thinking. You don’t have to be born with anything in particular to sing!
Fitting In
I grew up feeling like an outsider, a misfit, in so many different ways throughout my life. I was the chubby kid; the new kid (we moved a lot!); the quiet kid; the surprisingly funny kid. I didn’t know how to fit in; or where, except church and choir.
I belonged in a choir. I knew I would fit. When I began to shine, I was set apart again. Society tells us to strive to be the best, at something. I thought singing was my thing. When you get picked to sing a solo, it sure does make you feel special! I was hungry for attention; desperate to fit in, which I know now, isn’t the same as belonging.
Feeling seen and heard, and welcomed in the mundane of life, was not my experience. It seemed I only got the attention I craved when I sang, so I did that...a lot.
Every new choir I joined, at new schools or churches, I wasn’t just a choir member for long. I became a soloist.
I am well aware that this is a desire and dream of many people; even most of my clients, and another example of the grass being greener elsewhere.
I wonder if there is more peace and a sense of belonging for the choir members that aren’t interested in being a soloist. Just happy to be there, singing with friends. Being the best at singing is just an illusion after all. Someone else will come along, and get the next solo, or you join a choir filled with soloist voices and don’t get picked. It happens to all of us!
The science is in: choir singing is good for the body and mind. Here’s one of a million articles on the proven benefits.
Would our society be improved if we all sang together more? Probably.
We sing together less and less as music gets pulled from schools and church memberships decline (the one common place voices unite weekly).
What if Congress was required to sing the national anthem before every vote? People who sing together are rarely in conflict.
I can say, as a lifelong soloist and choir singer, singing can soothe and regulate the nervous system. AND, in my experience, even getting the solos does not cure the feeling of being “not good enough”. There were deeper, older wounds to address, that getting the solo could not soothe.
Songwriter Sits Aside
People who have sung in choirs for years, will come to voice lessons with me and say “well, I’m not a singer though.” There is a notion that “a singer” is apart from the collective. A lone voice.
Having that lone voice be heard was once a comfort to me because it meant no-one else could talk; someone had to listen. Even if I wasn’t being validated in my real life, I was when I sang.
That didn’t make the need to be seen/heard/known in real life go away. If anything, it allowed me to delay getting to know myself and what I needed. I hid, even from myself, on stage.
I stopped singing in choirs and became a songwriter. The switch wasn’t intentional, just came about as I was going through a big life transition, when I needed to know myself. In that intersection of getting to know myself, trauma recovery, and writing songs, I found my voice. I learned ways to re-parent myself and give myself the gift of being seen and heard.
Giving myself those things I had sought so desperately from the outside world, shifted my needs. It appeased that part of me that needed attention.
I don’t have the urge to perform as much anymore. I enjoy it, but I don’t NEED it now. When I sing by myself in front of other people, I’m no longer looking for their validation. I finally feel “good enough”. Of course, I still have insecure days that can affect the way I feel about myself, my body, my voice, but that’s not the norm now.
It’s a wonderful feeling!
Belonging
I thought of this urgency of Belonging that presses in on me, when I read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Letters from Love on a message from Love on Belonging:
“How could you do anything but belong? You ARE this. You are from here. You are of this. You are co-creating this. You are the Earth Experience itself. You are creation in motion. How could you think you are ever outside of it?”
When we grow up with a deficiency of enoughness; however it was overtly or covertly messaged, we don’t understand our worth; and it keeps us lacking and looking.
Liz’ love letter on Belonging is a whimsical warm reminder that we are loved, and we belong.
Did you confuse fitting in for belonging like I did?
Maybe no-one has made that more clear than shame and vulnerability researcher, Brene Brown, who says:
“Fitting in is about assessing a situation and becoming who you need to be to be accepted. Belonging, on the other hand, doesn’t require us to change who we are.”
Learn to Play
Somewhere along the way, people thought they needed to sound like their favorite singers, instead of themselves, to be worthy to sing. And, yet, every week I have clients asking to “find their voice”. The pull to be unique is fighting with the pull to be good enough, which many interpret to be something other than themselves.
Maybe it looks like two paths to take; like a fork in a road: be you or somebody else with skills.
But, it’s two lanes on the same road - you just skate between both:
1 - learn the skill; do the muscle training, understand music, play AND
2 - be you; know your worth; embrace who you are, body and voice; and, share your heart through your voice
Do both; that’s the intersection of your unique (and wonderful!) voice.
I know singers who play an instrument, and the insecurity with the voice is the strongest. Is this just my experience? Do guitar players feel this not-good-enoughness with their guitar playing? a
Singing saved me in many ways. It was my escape as a child, and because it is a socially acceptable activity, no-one could see that I wasn’t ok. It saved me, and also maybe kept me trapped… kept me presentable enough, but ultimately, I had to face what was missing - knowing my worth.
If we healed our inner child, would we want to play/sing anymore?
The awakening for me was realizing I never thought of singing as playing. One day, my therapist asked me what/how did I play as a child. I had no memory of it. When I began inner child (and teen) healing, I found play and curiosity. When I began to find play in my life, I brought it to my music; to my singing. It made everything more easy; more fun.
Maybe the language is important after all. It does define a culture, yes?
Let’s play with our voices.
Next time you tell someone that you’re a musician, I bet you they will ask, what do you play? Tell them you play your voice! It’s odd, because we don’t say this.
We say, “I sing.”
The Singer should Play!
When it comes together, and someone feels good about something they sang, I often hear, “that was fun!” Let’s make it all fun!
For everyone. If every human had access to the joy and expression that flows through singing w/o worrying about being good enough, it would be a better world.