I’ve been thinking a lot about singing lately. It was sparked a month or so ago while I was reading The Royal Diaries: Eleanor, Crown Jewel of Acquitaine. I noticed, while reading, that they would sing a lot. But y’know what else? Eleanor never mentioned if the singing was good or bad. Never said if the person’s voice was beautiful or horrid. Only about how much fun they were having.
Today, all we do is care about how good the singing sounds. If you don’t sound good, you can’t sing. I have a friend that has always told me that I was off key when I was singing, or doing something else wrong. This made it obvious she couldn’t stand my singing. Her excuse is that she’s been in music all her life so she has perfect pitch. But that doesn’t mean she has a right to tell me not to sing.
I went to Renn Fair this weekend. Everyone sang and just had a good time. No one cared if you were actually good at singing or not. A long time ago, it was no big deal. A long time ago, you could be the worst singer in the world and no one cared because you and they were just having fun. Today, all we care about is good singing. It’s sad, really. Singing is a lot of fun. But even among friends, if you can’t sing, you shouldn’t. We idolize the “good” singers. They end up in drugs and alcohol.
Singing is just as much a personal expression as writing, drawing, painting, dancing, etc. But if you’re not good at any of that, it’s decided by society that you shouldn’t do it. I think that’s what the use of the word “can’t” is all about. I don’t draw well, so I “can’t” do it. Someone else doesn’t write well, so they “can’t” do it. On and on it goes.
Well, I’m going to let anyone sing, no matter how bad their voice sounds. I’m going to sing my heart out whenever I want to. Because there’s nothing wrong with sound different from others. There’s nothing wrong with not being as “good” as others. It’s perfectly fine and what makes the world so interesting and beautiful. Sing your heart out, people! You deserve it!