Tuning into Expression: From Hush to Radiant Confidence

When I was in the 4th grade, we had a Founders’ Day coming up in school, and the teachers were looking for a group of kids to sing the founder’s favorite song. We were all herded into one classroom, and the music teacher asked us to sing one by one. I was already nervous because I was aware that I was a very average singer. But I wanted to try because I wanted to go up on stage and sing. So, when it was my turn, I sang. My heart broke as I saw her scrunch up her face as if she had heard the worst sound and moved on to the next person. Her reaction is still seared into my mind, so many years later. I do not remember her name. I cannot recall what song we were singing. But I remember the disgust on her face when she heard me. I was not upset about not being selected. I was prepared to be rejected; I would have dealt with that. It was her reaction that hurt me.

That was the day I stopped singing. Not in the bathroom, not at home, not in school. I restricted myself to mouthing the national anthem during assemblies and had singing parties in my mind whenever my favorite songs came on in the car. But I stopped singing out loud. The confidence that had pushed me to audition for that event was completely gone, and I found my confidence draining in other areas as well.

When I look back, I think to myself – I was not the best, but I wasn’t that bad either. And so what if I was? That was no way for her to react. Maybe she wasn’t aware that her reaction would have such a long-term effect on me. But as a teacher, shouldn’t she have been? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not angry about it – I never was. As a child, I was just hurt. And today, as an adult and an educator myself, I wonder why she wasn’t more sensitive.

Fast-forward to 8th grade, I shifted to a boarding school. It wasn’t anything like the ones I’d seen in movies. It was a wonderland! Out of the many things that were different about this school, one of them was that instead of an assembly where we said the pledge, sang the national anthem, and read the news, we sang songs from all over India, in multiple languages. We sat in concentric circles instead of standing in perfect height-wise lines, and everybody sang with live music being played by some students. It had become so normal for me to not sing that on my first day I just sat there with the lyrics in my hands, going over the words but not singing. Never singing.

The next thing I knew, a teacher came and sat next to me and asked me to sing. I said no, I didn’t know how to sing. She said it didn’t matter, that everyone sang, and that I had to try; it didn’t matter how I sounded. So I tried. I sang. In a faint voice, but I sang. She must have heard the quiver in my voice, for she held my hand throughout the rest of the assembly. And that was just the support I needed.

I didn’t reclaim my singing voice as abruptly as I had lost it. But over time, I started to sing loudly. Still well aware of the fact that I was not the best singer in the room. I just made sure to enjoy it. It became a source of happiness and confidence.

Fast-forward x2 to adulthood, I chose to have a career in education. I work with kids across all age groups, as a creative educator. From 1st grade to young adults. Sometimes even adults. Among the many things I do in class, I teach them songs. I teach them dance. I push them to express themselves in any way they want. An off-beat song, a dance with two left feet, a drawing that’s been colored outside the outlines, a wonky origami piece, the darkest of secrets written in broken English, anything that helps them express themselves.

When my learners say, ‘I don’t sound very good,’ I tell them to sing even louder.

This happened to me with singing. I have encountered numerous individuals who, like me, were made to feel inadequate while expressing themselves. Mostly by their teachers.

The latter half of my narrative stands as a testament to the transformative power of a supportive and encouraging educational environment, one that prioritizes the well-being and self-assurance of each learner.

In the grand scheme of things, does it matter that our kids sing well? Or does it matter that they are happy doing it?

-Saachi Pimprikar is an artist, educator, and designer who creates learning experiences to build literacy and life skills through art, using design tools.