At the Presbyterian church where I sing, a new pastor was installed on Sunday. There was a small orchestra, one service, and blended worship. It was a big deal for this church who has been without a leader for 3 years.
I could see the new pastor's family sitting in the front pew, their youngest daughter in high school, soon to face a new school, far from her home by the ocean. One of their adult sons was singing in the choir with us, handsome and wearing a suit underneath his choir robe.
The whole day was so familiar. I can distinctly remember being that girl, feeling curious eyes on the back of my head, thrust into the spotlight by default.
I don't usually write about things like this, mostly because it's not anyone's business, but also because I'm unwilling to draw any lines in the sand.
But lately things in my life seem to be circling around and coming back to the same place over and over.
As I sat and listened, during the two services that day, certain phrases jumped out at me as if they were in all caps and bright red. Sermons have a way of presenting themselves to me in this way. Mostly I've stopped listening because those loud, bright phrases have a way of getting under my skin.
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At the last board meeting, we were asked to give a word which we think best represents the company. As I am new to this arts organization, I could only offer what I hoped would be a fundamental principal: interesting.
It was a telling assignment for me. What do I value enough to give some of my precious time?
Other words were offered: integrity…education... audience outreach… education… history... education again.
I always say that I became a musician because it's the family trade. I come from a long line of musicians, my parents, my maternal grandparents, and my grandmother's mother all maintain/ed a professional level of musical skill.
As I graduated high school and faced that popular question "what's your major?" my path clearly stretched out in front of me. How could it not, when on road trips as a child your family would sing rounds or dissect the orchestration of the symphony playing on the radio? Many freshman in college struggle with the very concepts that I had been taught at an early age.
I didn't have to work very hard to be near the top of my classes.
And yet, while music is in the very fiber of my being, I've always felt that I lacked the emotional connection that draws most people down a serious musical path.
But I don't know anything else. And what a shame it would be, to disregard the lineage of musicians from which I come.
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I've always been a little different, late to trends, slow to jump on the bandwagon.
I've never been thin, and that combined with tight finances lent itself to a fairly bland and unfashionable wardrobe throughout my youth. I was smart, but usually hovered below the top 10%. I played sports, but wasn't committed enough during the off season to be considered one of the jocks. I was in school plays, never in a leading role, usually in the chorus or as a cast member with a few lines or a short solo. In high school, my friends were popular, but I wasn't. Even now, as a classical singer, it's hard to categorize my voice, not one of the fachs fit particularly well.
I suppose we all feel like this. And as I get older, I'm starting to think that just maybe, those boxes/categories/groups are not reality.
Amanda Magee, whose blog I recently discovered, wrote:
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Next week I'm having a birthday. I'll be turning 33, and things have been swirling around in my brain, stirring up memories and emotions that I haven't had time for with two young children.
For so much of my life, as an oldest child who likes to please, I've struggled with wanting to fit in, yet disagreeing with much of what I see and hear. All the while watching the majority nod their heads in agreement, like sheep mindlessly following whomever has the biggest staff.
Those people who know me as Pastor Peter's daughter will be surprised to learn that I believe in gay rights and am pro-choice and a feminist. Those of you who have known me in my adult years, might be surprised to know that I believe in God and have a deep faith in the foundational truths of Christianity.
Is there even a box for someone like me?
However, I'm beginning to understand that this feeling of being a misfit, is actually something of which to be quite proud. Here in the midwest, there is a lot of categorizing. It matters which church you go to, what neighborhood you live in, where your kids go to school.
I've also come to understand that performing is the way I can encourage people to think for themselves. During my work at the Hartt School, I came to this realization:
As a performer, our calling is to give the audience permission to look at our lives and as a result, glimpse for just a moment in time, some truth of humanity.
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For the longest time I didn't want any princess toys or paraphernalia in my house. I felt strongly that I wanted my daughters to be more interesting than princesses. And then slowly the books trickled in, which gave way to the princess dresses, which lead to the Fisher Price princess castle, and basically we are now princess central, especially since seeing Frozen.
Then Maia went to school this year and made a best friend. And this best friend doesn't like princesses and instead loves lions.
Soon I heard things like "I don't like princesses anymore" and "princesses wear diapers" and sure enough, we're having a lion themed birthday party next weekend.
I find myself offering to play princess, the very thing I had so despised just months earlier.
The thing is, it's not that I want Maia to love princesses again, but rather that I hate to see her conforming to outside influences.
I've got to give my parents credit. Despite what could have been a very rigid upbringing under the scrutiny of the church, they found a way to encourage us to be creative, to have our own opinions, and to be true to our convictions.
I'm grateful that my girls come from such a rich lineage of people who are interesting and different.
To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Cheers to all you other misfits.
