Talent Shmalent

Dear World Wide Web,
Dressed in my favorite white dress accessorized with obvious confidence, I marched out of the car as I told my mother jokingly, “Make sure you stick around after the show, I will try to sign you an autograph or something.” Little did I know that the next 3 and a half hours of practicing scales and memorizing lyrics were going to be what I would later recall to be, “Butterflies in my stomach on steroids.” After the endless waiting, I heard my name announced on the mic and made my way to the center stage. The lights were glaring, the audience was packed, and my dress was beginning to bind. I looked to my guitarist and gave him the nod to start playing. He strummed the first chord with ease and I shook off my fears....
Wait, let’s back up a little. You may be somewhat confused about what I am talking about.
In January, the president of Key Club at our school announced that we were having our annual talent show. I slumped down in my chair and pretended not to hear the announcement and as I did, the person sitting next to me remarked, “I can’t imagine how difficult that would be! I mean...all of those people.” I looked at him blankly and said, “Yeah, I would never do that.” He then cocked his head to the side and asked, “Wait, what the heck would you even do?” As he sat there waiting for an answer, I decided not to continue the conversation. I simply shrugged my shoulders and went on listening to the morning announcements. The rest of the day went on normally until my friend dared me to go sign up and audition for the show as a joke.
I was excited for the auditions because it was going to be hilarious! I did not question my act for ONE moment. That is of course, until the actual day of auditions. I was so sure of my rap, I knew that they would love me! However, as the school day came to a close, I found myself becoming slightly nervous and during the last period of the day I was paralyzed with fear. Though I was friends with everyone on the panel for judging, I was incredibly nervous about my rap.
I entered the theater at precisely 3 p.m. on a sunny Friday afternoon awaiting my opportunity to display my talent for “spitting rhymes.” As the audition process went on, I witnessed my peers display countless talents, further discouraging my decision to audition: even if it was a joke. Finally, after waiting what seemed to be an eternity, my moment presented itself. I readied myself on stage for my audition and the nerves were getting worse. One of the members of the panel asked me what my talent was and to my surprise, I could not formulate an answer. They stared at me as I felt the room spin, sweat droplets form, and my sophisticated vernacular disappearing. The one word I could muster was, “Sing.”

The nervousness began to abate.

They asked me, “ What do you think you’ll sing today,” I thought about it and calmly answered, “Put Your Records On by Corinne Bailey Rae.” I saw looks of incertitude reverberate throughout the small crowd and then judges cued me to start.
I began to sing the song accapello style and the room stood still, the sweat evaporated, and my words were intelligible. The nerves had completely subsided! I had always loved singing and sang anywhere and everywhere, but never did I consider it a talent. As the song came to a close I looked to my friend to see her response and much to my surprise her mouth was wide open. She told me as we were leaving the auditorium, “ Dude, you sing? When did that happen?” I shrugged and said, “What are you talking about?” She stared at me in disbelief, “ I can’t believe you never told me you sang, or that you LIKED to sing.” She was joking but I never really considered singing in front of people before.
After being notified that we were all in the talent show, my friends and I practiced during lunch so we could evaluate each other’s performances. The more I practiced, the more I found how much I loved to sing and just perform.
FAST-FORWARD TO PRESENT TIME
I began to belt my heart out and for 3 minutes I felt something I had never felt before: comfortable in my own skin. To my dismay, the song ended and my friends and family rose to their feet to commend me on my triumph. During the intermission I rushed to my mom to ask her honest opinion, she hugged me and told me that she was glad I did not embarrass her in front of her friends. I hugged her back and the nerves that had attacked me during the auditions began to rise again, but these were different nerves. These were the nerves responsible for me telling my mother, “Mom, I don’t care. I’m finally home.” She then responded that we wouldn’t be home for another 20 minutes. I rolled my eyes at her because I know what I meant and I mean it.
I’m finally home.

Not as caffeinated,
DECAFdork