I have no trouble looking at any of my students and seeing that far more unites us than divides us. No matter our differences, we are the same. So it’s my challenge, sometimes, to look at the people around me and remind myself that we’re not the same.
Let me explain by way of example.
Yesterday’s retreat, like many of my retreats, included a “Club Shades” – a chance for each singer to share a solo with the group. It’s a vital part of my retreat process on several levels. I always go first because, as I say, “I don’t ask my students to do anything I’m not willing to do myself.” So Saturday I sang and played “All The Things You Are” for my students.
But here’s the thing: I abhor singing solos. It is simply not a part of music-making I enjoy. It’s not a question of preparation, or confidence in my musicianship, or even my introversion, particularly – I would simply much rather be conducting, or writing music, or singing the tenor part of an SATB vocal jazz piece.
With that mindset, I was struck following my performance at the way some of the Shades of Blue singers came alive with the chance to sing a solo. Their reaction to this opportunity was diametrically opposed to mine. Their joy at sharing with their fellow singers was palpable. It was these moments that reminded me that we’re not the same, as much as we have in common.
It’s easy to forget that the things that bring you joy might cause dread in others – and vice versa. It’s easy to forget that, for all that we are alike, we are all distinctly ourselves.