Turning Points

I hate hearing the sound of my own voice. Pretty much always have... well, that's not true. There was a time when it delighted me. A time when I reveled in the technological power of being able to hit RECORD and PLAY on my cassette player simultaneously... and replay it later.

But the days of the mock radio shows and the first two songs I ever wrote ("Swim Like a Mermaid" and "Lazy Smurf") were short-lived. Somewhere in there, I learned to dread the sound of my own vocal chords vibrating. Yet despite this, I still managed to get a degree in Vocal Music Performance.

Listening to my own voice.... Why why why does it shame me so?

Likewise, as I've mentioned here before, I hate confrontation. Yet despite a distinct aversion to it, I managed to be able to stick up for myself -- through physical means if absolutely necessary -- up until my Freshman year in high school. And then, rather suddenly, I couldn't anymore.

These two must occurrences must be related.

Volleyball and Vocals
My freshman year in high school, my family moved to a very small town in Virginia, some miles outside a populace 2-stoplight town. Having spent several years roaming the corridors of Ballston, which was across the street from our apartment, the move was a major adjustment. (Let's just say that I am qualified to write a book on the subject of culture shock, and leave it at that.)

I'd spent the prior few years in middle school feeling constant humiliation. Plus my one saving grace - my voice - never seemed quite good enough. I made it into the special girl's show choir, but was never one of the stars of the group. I auditioned for regional chorus and didn't make it. That was a sad, sad day, and shocked my chorus teacher as much as me.

Starting high school in a new town gave me a kind of new freedom. None of these people knew me! I could start again. And I Did, Full Out. By the end of the year I was one of the top students in my class, taking multiple honors courses, had been a starter on the JV Volleyball team with a great career ahead of me, and I was one of the school's premier singers. Yep, that's right -- as a freshman, I was in the school's most elite vocal group, and that group was the JOY of my existence. I mean, I got to dance with Craig and Paul! One was the basketball star (NICEST guy, loved him) and the other -- oh how I crushed on him! He was SO sweet, kind, thoughtful, and CUTE. I wished I was partnered with him more frequently, but there's only so much you can do in a performing group when one boy and one girl (me) are quite a bit taller than the others.

Looking back on it now... it was a teenage girl's heaven. It's true, I was stuck in the middle of effing nowhere, hardly any friends, a DC city girl often ostracized by Southerners and rednecks, but I knew I was going somewhere. That year I also took 2nd place in the school science fair, and I won the school-motto competition. (Only, no one knows that I did. The Brothers-H "won" and got all the attention, then later it was determined that they cheated, and as second place, I then "won" be default. It was all very hush-hush, and like I said, I doubt anyone really knew. The Brothers-H were big names in that there school, practically untouchable, and hence, they were both pricks.) Yeah, so there was nowhere for me to go but UP. That is, until we moved back to Ballston.

...With the exception of my sports career. It started out AWESOME. I came on the team as a freshman starter, usurping a spot from one of the older girls. The coach encouraged me to ignore this girls threats -- she was quite mean to me. But I was the better player.

The girl even started stealing things from my gym locker, or destroying my classwork - whatever she or her friends could do. But I was only able to catch her once, so nothing could be done about it. I had no recourse, no way to protect myself from the constant harassment.

As the school year progressed, our team got really good. We went to District Championships. We lost the final game, but it was AMAZING nonetheless! We were going to states! Only, just then, we moved back to Ballston.

However, there's more to this story. By the end there, I was no longer the regular starter in my position. In fact, I had pretty much lost all my outward aggression. It was no longer within me to run at the net, jump and slam the ball down into someone's face. Nor was I able to take a slam to the face with any sort of grace. I'd become afraid of the ball, and afraid of physical aggression in general.

And yet, just months before, I had kicked the shins of the boy who was harassing my friend and I. Less than a year later, I was incapable of such an act. I was incapable of defending myself at all.

Why?

By the time I got back to Arlington at the end of my freshman year, sports were nearly out of the question. Too much confrontation. But I still had my voice! I KNEW I was good now, I'd had my fresh start!

My guidance counselor put me into the Advanced Choir. It's where I belonged, wasn't it? I was coming out of the elite group in one school, and moving into the advanced group in another (obviously I couldn't be put straight into Madrigals). Made sense to me.

For two days, I was accosted by my classmates -- "What are you doing here? Wait, what grade are you? You're not supposed to be here!" Yet the music was straight-forward and beautiful. I had no problem catching up with the new music. I could already sight-read well enough to easily keep up. However -- My counselor had messed up. Freshmen weren't ALLOWED in Advanced choir. After two days, I was moved to the Regular Choir.

With apologies to any friend who were in choir with me back in the day - Regular Choir was like a slap in the face. The music was juvenile, half the students were juveniles, and the other half couldn't speak *English. Thus began three YEARS of torment and torture at the hands of the music department and the teacher's pets of the music department. I still have trouble grappling with my anger and resentments misplaced there. I had a terrible experience - and yet, screw them, I STILL got a degree in music (that I haven't done squat with). Rawr.

But I'm still at a loss as to WHY I can't stand the sound of my voice or WHY I decided to shun all forms of physical aggression. I KNOW I can sing. I KNEW I could kick ASS on the Volleyball court. Why take that away from myself? What is it about the timing of these occurrences? And why are they related, as I instinctively feel that they are?

Sigh.

*I highly respect the school's ESOL program for putting students in choir. Singing a new language is a fabulous way to learn to pronounce it.