Even though I’m sharing this blog under the acting tab, it’s not about acting…
One of the first optional assignments on the student course portal for my Voice class at a California Community College is asking us to answer a few questions about why we enrolled in the course.
Why are you taking this class? What do you hope to get out of it? Be as specific as you can be.
Surely, a sentence or two would do, but here’s what I type in the survey box, answering the question of why I enrolled in Elementary Voice:
"tuh-KEY-yuh, puh-leez!" my mother would holler, exhausted by my screeching. Then, she would come in sweetly, "my baby, you are very beautiful, but your voice is not, please stop." Though it could seem harsh to the gentle parenters of 2026, I appreciate her for the thick skin and value of honesty that I have today. She'll still reminisce, laughing, "ou girl, you always wanted to be somewhere singing, as bad as you would sound," often adding, "and dancing too, no rhythm, my poor baby." -- Note: This was not a one-off instance in childhood, it was throughout, as I couldn't help myself (I couldn't be quiet nor sit still no matter how much my little tail was popped). And I'm not exaggerating about her and others reminding me that I can't sing nor dance; I was JUST home in Louisiana over the summer and she brought this up. I called her first born for his birthday on August 2nd and began singing happy birthday as soon as he said hello, as I ALWAYS do to all my loved ones (to make 'em laugh at this point), and he said, to my surprise, "oh wow, you don't sound absolutely terrible, lil' sis," as if he were ready to run off and tell mama the news!
Speaking of my big brother, he was born with drumsticks in hand. Do you think the grown-ups ever told him to stop beating on EVERYTHING?! Nope. They bought him a drum pad!!! Everywhere, all the time, this boy paradiddled all upside my head. And you mean to tell me that my singing got on people's nerves, but ra-ta-tat-tat-ta-tat-tat-ta-tat didn't?! His noise was music, mine was not.
Fast forward, my brother is a private music teacher, high school band director and lead of an ensemble in New Orleans featured on regional news programs and national commercials. I may not have seen it (the difference) when we were kids, but the grown-ups did: his was music!!
At this point, if you're reading this, I suppose you're hoping the instructions didn't say, "be as specific as you can be." I take things too literally. In short, The Lord says "vengeance is mine," but I rather take this one of the big man's hands. I want to make each person that told (and still tells) me that I have no rhythm and am tone deaf eat his and her words!! Mwhahahahaahaha.
In all seriousness, I'm fascinated by musical inclination and want to understand the mechanism behind how a musician can do what he does and hear what he hears. I want to know what makes a good singer's sound BUTTER when it comes out of her mouth.
Whew child, that’s only one question down. I really came to copy/paste it over here in case that webpage glitches, I have it typed somewhere else. Then, I thought to myself, “it’s not a graded assignment, may as well get some points out of it over here.” It’s 2026. Everything is content.
Next question. TK, please. Concisely.
What are you aspirations academically, musically, vocally, professionally? Be as specific as you possibly can.
Hey, I’ll get down to answering a question with a few words eventually. Let’s be grateful that I got this one down to a few lines.
On the first day of classes, as we were introducing ourselves, I don't remember her name, a brunette, she said, "well, I can act and I can dance, the only thing I'm missing is being able to sing," referring to her professional goal of being on broadway. I'd've never thought to have that as a goal, but if it's in the realm of possibility, HECK YEAH! Broadway, baby! That's my aspiration!
The next few questions ask about smoking, drinking, substance use, hormone treatment, etc. Y’all, tell me why I told this man, “wine tasting on occasion, binge drinking during Mardi Gras in NOLA.” Then for the last question where he asked if there’s anything else I’d like to share for him to better teach, I say, “whew child, surely I've said more than enough.” We haven’t even started the course yet and I’m about to have this man sick of me.
Okay, later, y’all, it’s eleven o’clock at night, I’m bloated af from eating like a fool (what else is new) and all I have on this college ruled paper is the date. I’d really sat down at this rolling desk to start taking notes, as instructed, for my Introduction to Applied Kinesiology course. Mm hm, I’m a whole student outchea! I’m not only in one random Voice class, I’m in school fr fr. 10 units. That’s darn-near a full-time student! If all four classes in which I’m enrolled were worth 3 units, I’d be in the system as full-time.
Ugh, why can I feel the blood going through the veins in my legs? It’s similar to a feeling of legs “falling asleep”. They’re awake though. I’m awake. Uhnt uhn, my heart is working too hard to pump blood throughout my body. After I go get wings at Saucy Bird on the west side with my girl Kiana tomorrow, I’m going to start eating clean. This feeling is freaking me out.
Eeeeeeeek! I adore my schedule, I do. Even though I got up and started doing something else all of three minutes into sitting in front of my piano, I’m smiling as I look over at it. AHHHH. [sigh of pleasure]. Learning is fun.
Okay, fr fr, let me go. Now that I got the responding to posts on Canvas out of the way, I’ll get into the actual schoolwork assignments professors have posted tomorrow. I have a promotional specialist gig at noon, then going meet Kiana after.. I better do whatever lil’ work I wanna do in the morning before I leave this house at 11am. Am I being realistic right now? Guess we’ll find out in the morning.