MONDAY THOUGHTS: I JUST LIKE TO SING

My absolute favorite social media post from a weekend in June 2018, (in response to a mutual friend's posted photos of the Capital Jazz Fest Tribute to Phyllis Hyman) read: "Omggggg. That’s Motha from the Richard Smallwood Singers!!" 

I got a really good laugh out of that “Motha”.

Sometimes, you forget about how old you are, until some young adult walks up to you and begins with "When I was little..." or "Back in the day...". 

Sometimes you forget how long you've been doing one thing or another, but the joy is in finding you still can, and people still care. 

You also have no idea what others think of you, particularly when they see you outside of the boxes and lanes to which they have relegated you. It's not even malicious or competitive all the time. It's nice that people are concerned if you're still saved, and haven't jumped ship.

Fact is, many people think you can only do one thing well, while others think that you, as a Christian, don't have any business appreciating other genres of Music--or working, or enjoying life for that matter. I've discerned those looks and comments in the past that asked, "What are YOU doing here?"

 

People are appalled, but you're on stage, and they're in the audience--soooo, there's at least TWO Christians gathered, and you know what that means--there are more! Nobody yells "Sing Vanessa!!!" like church people...lol...Ummm hmmm...I see you, too...and it's okay. LIVE. Have fun. 

I know who's encouraging and who's not. Those who aren't, have unfortunately ascribed to the belief that God is limited, and has run out of doors and windows to open. Everyone has people in their lives who are fine as long as you stay out of their way, in the back, and off of their stages. We all know those who are so enamored by who they are, and their accomplishments, that if they don't know your name, you must be insignificant. And then, there are those in whose company you have been many times, but they'll never utter so much as a "Hello"--until you're backstage wearing the same credentials around your neck as they are--and it's not because you're someone's guest. Why not make life easier. Just be nice to everyone?

I don't think there was any shade intended by the post, and I AM a motha...lol...but I'm keenly aware of the credibility, expectations, and confidence that comes with certain associations. When you're linked with great people, the assumption is that you just might be able to do a little something; you might actually know a thing or two, otherwise, why would great people bother? It can be a little nerve wracking when you're seen as a representative. What if you mess up?  That's where not only your ability, but your home training has to kick in. You shake off the jitters, behave yourself; remain teachable, show kindness and cooperate, but that doesn't mean you tolerate nonsense, bullying or rudeness or mistreatment.(Being well-known doesn't have to be synonymous with being a jerk.)

By the time you're a "motha", you know yourself. You know what you will and won't abide, do, say, wear, etc. By the time you're a "motha" you have the ability to give a firm and secure "yes" or "no". You have choices. You're keenly aware of time, and the value of strong value of strong relationships. You shun the clicks that promote themselves as friendships and networks, but they're really circles of gossipy, backbiting, people of mediocre ability who are all grasping for the same ring, and would just as soon cut each other's throats. Stress, and the people who relish in it, are not your cup of tea, neither are those who endeavor to turn what you love to do into a chore. By the time you're a "motha", other people's procrastination or incompetence doesn't constitute your emergency. Other people's attitudes and anxiety don't have to become your crosses. There will always be people who are willing to do what you won't--so you happily let them wear themselves out. 

Those who know me know where I prefer to be, and it’s not out front--that's a scary, dangerous place sometimes. I adore background singing. (I went to the theater and saw “20 Feet From Stardom” five times AND bought the DVD.) That's my super comfy comfort zone, but I was challenged by Allyson Williams and Avery Sunshine to dig deep and understand why. I'm grateful for every opportunity to do what I love, though--even the ones that required others, who could see what I couldn't, to ignore my internal kicking and screaming.

So many singers and musicians begin with such simple and pure intentions and lose their enthusiasm, minds and even lives. I guess I've never wanted whatever "it" is that badly. I'd much rather be lost in a sea of other singers and basking in the harmony we make. Even on the occasions when it was just me and a band, I don't even think they knew how desperately I needed them to play as if I wasn’t there. I needed them to lead. I needed to feel the music--let it bundle me up like in a blanket and carry me where they were going. That way I felt secure. I could follow. Following is safer when you're confident that the leader knows where he or she is going. I mean, I surely can't tell musicians what to do, and I can't play a thing, but the only way I can explain it is that when it's right, like it was at Merriwether Post Pavillion, I feel no fear or apprehension. If I take a turn, I know it's one they can easily make, too--and they've taught me, and spoiled me to the point where I think they can do anything musically. In those moments when it's right, this "motha" doesn't care about a thing that makes me sad, anxious, or unsure.  It's like flying and we're all going the same place, and they won't let me fall. Trusting the band. That's heaven to me. 'Cause God knows, I just like to sing. 

Fortunately, there are still people for whom, that is enough.