Today at work there was this cool tweenage girl who was telling me she wanted to audition for a solo in her church's kid's musical. She was singing the song, and she did have a pretty and sweet voice. As a person who likes 1) kids 2) singing 3) church and 4) kids singing at church, I totally encouraged her to try out for that solo. Her words back to me were, "I want to, but I'm afraid I'm going to get stage fright and won't be able to do it."
And I couldn't think of anything to say in reply to that, because I had EXTREME stage fright until I was 18 years old. I'm not sure what the change was, but all through high school, I was basically unable to sing solos in front of people. Well, okay, technically that's NOT true. I sang a few solos in high school chorus and church, but for some reason if I ever actually held a microphone in front of my face, I'd choke. I couldn't sing. I couldn't even breathe. I used to think that I wanted to go into musical theater--I'm not sure how I thought I could handle it. I know I couldn't handle it now...but I digress.
This tweenage girl's fear reminded me of the most embarrassing displays of public humiliation I'll probably ever have (I hope). My sister was in Junior Miss. What is Junior Miss? It's a program for girls between their junior and senior years of high school. It's not a pageant (or that's what they say--I beg to differ). It's an educational scholarship program...where girls prance around on a stage and do stuff they do in...pageants. My sister did a great job (she won the talent portion and the portion entitled "presence and composure"...which was where the girls wore fancy dresses and pranced around and answered current event questions...like in a pageant...though this was not a pageant).
Well, when my turn came, my mom and sister encouraged me to participate, too. And to be honest, I kind of wanted to participate. I wanted to be like my sister, who did such an amazing job. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn't have done it. Why? Because that sort of thing is just totally NOT for me. Overall, it wasn't a bad experience. I got to know some of the other girls and they were really great. But pageants (or NOT pageants...however you wish to see it) are just not my style at all.
Anyway, the night of the pageant was a disaster for me. A disaster. Completely. It was videotaped and stuff, but I never even watched it. Ever. I just never ever want to see the disaster of that night again. Everybody I knew and a gazillion people I didn't know were there to witness the greatest public display of humiliation I've ever had or will ever have.
There was this opening dance routine that wasn't judged, but it was our introduction to the audience and to the judges. I was participant #3, which meant I was at the front of the stage next to participants #1 and #2. Everyone else was behind me. So the curtains opened, the music started. I smiled and started dancing and put my heart into that routine. I didn't pay attention to contestants--oops, I mean "participants"--#1 and #2 beside me. I was focused on that audience and on those judges. And I was nailing that routine, I tell you. I was perfectly on beat.
Well, we did a turn at one point, and I realized that everyone else was doing a completely different move than I was. They were several beats ahead of me in the routine. I knew I had it right, but the thing was, everyone else had it wrong. I promise you. I was right, but the girls were following another participant who had started on the wrong count (she admited her mistake and laughed about it after the fact, but I didn't think it was funny--because I was the one who paid for that mistake). I would have followed the others, but I hadn't been watching them. I had been watching the crowd...like I was supposed to. So from the start of the whole thing, I looked ridiculous to the audience and the judges.
Then came the athletic portion, which didn't go too badly. Except, dude, athletics and I were never friends. So when it came time for me to do my "solo" athletics, I did some kind of stupid thing just to get it over with. In other words, it was again obvious that I sucked.
The talent portion was the worst. In retrospect, I shouldn't have played the guitar at all. I should have chosen a much better song than the one I chose--one that showed that I can sing like Christine Daae (for realz). But you know, it wouldn't have mattered. As soon as that curtain opened, I froze. I croaked out my song. Literally. It was dreadful. As soon as the curtains closed, I burst into tears.
And when the time came to prance around in a pretty dress and answer a question, I froze again. I don't remember the question. I don't remember my answer. I had one planned. When I started talking, I forgot what I was going to say and ended up just thanking the judges and going back to my spot, where I basked in utter humiliation. Maybe this is shallow of me, but current events were never my thing. I should have just said something about world peace and gotten it over with.
So yes, the entire night was a lesson to me to not try to be something I'm not. I'm not a pageant girl. I've got a lot of other talents that are much better suited to a socially awkward girl like me.
The winner that night had the right attitude, which I believe is one of the reasons why she won. It's perhaps some simple theology, but she kept saying that she could do all things through Christ (Philippians 4:13). I was focused on my own glory, quite honestly. I wanted to be noticed.
And I was.
For the wrong reasons.
There's a reason I don't sing a lot of solos in church these days, and it's not because I still get stage fright. It's not because I think I'm going to suffer public humiliation (I'm pretty much immune to that now). It's because I don't want to run the risk of focusing more on my performance than God's glory. When I'm asked to sing, I do. And I'm not completely opposed to volunteering. I am just very cautious, because I know I'm vain. And my church just so happens to have a plethora (I love that word) of amazing vocalists. I'm happy to let them shine, because they probably have the right attitude.
By the way, I did have a chance to redeem myself after the whole "Junior Miss Fiasco." When my high school graduation came around, we had a "Class Night" which is a night that showcases the graduating class. I sang for that. Now, the song choice is slightly embarrassing. I sang "Go the Distance" by Michael Bolton. The song that's in the Disney Hercules movie. It was actually a new movie when I was graduating high school, okay? And I still love the song. So there.
When I auditioned, I choked. But if you audition, they pretty much let you do whatever anyway. I sang it for the first rehearsal, and the stage fright was a little less. The second rehearsal, it was almost gone.
The night of Class Night, I nailed that song.
You'd better believe I watched THAT video again.
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