My Voice

I began the drama class last week. It wasn't what I expected at all. Last week, I spent time practicing a presentation/training that I need to give for work next week. I learned to own my words and speak with confidence even when I feel like I don't know what I'm talking about.

Today, I was able to hear and appreciate my own voice. While reading a part, the instructor and the other participants commented on my voice - it's tone, timbre, and texture - and compared it to a musical instrument. This was shocking to me. I'm the girl who used to hate reading aloud in class because I thought I sounded like a boy. I'm the girl who still hates recording new voicemail greetings every time I'm out of the office for a day or more. I'm the girl who mumbles "hello" and swallows "thank you" and "you're welcome." Who was this girl, this woman, they were speaking of? Could it be they were one in the same? Then someone asked a question that made me remember...

I remembered that one day, as a classroom teacher, when I was called to the office in the middle of my daily read aloud. My principal - the man who evaluated me on classroom management, guided reading, and determined my fate at the end of the year - was sent to watch my class. I scrambled to find some busywork for my students, expecting him to sit at my desk on the computer or lecture my students on their hallway behavior. He said he could handle it. He said he could do the read aloud. Now, I have no idea what happened in that office but I do remember what happened when I returned to my classroom. The principal let me know that everything went extremely well, showed me where he stopped in our chapter book, and returned to the office. As soon as he was out of earshot, my class erupted pleading with me to re-read the entire chapter that they had just heard. I was perplexed. Were they wasting time? Was there a test or that dreadful art class they were trying to avoid? No. They genuinely wanted me to read the chapter to them - to use my voice, my tone, and inflections to help them understand the storyline, get the jokes, and relate to a little girl with issues similar to their own. They wanted me to do the things that the man with the booming rich voice, the command of the whole school, and a salary 2-4 times that of little ol' me, couldn't do. That day, my 30+ students told me how much they valued my voice, much more than I ever have.

Somewhere along the way, I learned not to value my voice or to trust the words that it offered. Somehow, I forgot that there are people who enjoy listening to me. Today, I was reminded.

I usually like to end with a quote. Today, instead of finding someone else's words that speak my truth, I am trusting my own voice to convey exactly what I mean.