Miss Potter, the music teacher at Pershing Elementary, contributed mightily to my singing. She told my mom I was tone deaf and would never sing properly. Mom, fuming, determined otherwise.
The result? I’ve sung my whole life. In the car and shower. In musicals. And especially in church.
Church is where I got most of my practice in singing. Mom compelled participation in children’s and adult church choirs that, yes, she directed. I’ve sung in church choirs ever since.
Hymns provided more practice. Singing well in a crowd counts for less than singing with enthusiasm. Follow the good singers, and don’t worry about flubs – especially nice in puberty when a boy’s voice can’t be harnessed. Explore the voice’s different registers. Try out multiple harmonies.
All of that washed through me Sunday as I sang in church for the first time in 20 months. We stood, masked and safely distanced. And we sang “Shall We Gather at the River” into our communal space. Even muffled by our masks, the sound filled the room, prompting tears.
And oh, my was it swell.
Such a joy to see/hear your choir’s version of that beautiful song. I’m still doing live stream for our Concord UU services–fear, even with a strong mask policy in place–keeps me from attending. Blessings on you, Jeff.