There's a joke that Mennonites come out of their mother's wombs singing four-part harmony.
Or is it a joke?
I don't remember a time in my life when I didn't sing the tenor line. Singing a third above the sopranos in a song feels as natural to me as breathing.
As a young Mennonite boy, we went to church a lot. And one of the things we did at church that was particularly pleasant to me was sing.
It came from the heart, it felt authentic and I felt closer to the sacred and to beauty when I opened my mouth and music came spilling out. It was the one part of my religion that felt good, and absolutely right for me.
During my senior year high school years, I was sent to a private school in an isolated Manitoba town. We wore fortrel uniforms, were taught by some quirky teachers and lived in a residence five days a week. It was an overwhelming change after years in public school.
At that place, I auditioned for the select choir and got in.
Making chamber choir was a big deal. It was a place I could belong and it took over my life, with frequent rehearsals, touring to churches and festivals and even a performance at Stony Mountain Institution.
After leaving high school, I briefly joined a large university choir, but I didn't last long.
The joy of singing
Around this time, I came out to my family and my pastor and, well, the latter didn't go very well. I believe I was the first gay person he had ever encountered, and his advice to me wasn't exactly enlightened.
Not feeling very welcome in the church, I looked for community elsewhere. In the process, I drifted away from singing.
A few years ago, I was listening to Elizabeth Gilbert promote her book Big Magic on CBC Radio. Her essential message? "Do the thing that gave you joy when you were young."
Her message resonated with me and over time, I began asking myself, "What gave me joy when I was a kid?"
Of course, the answer was singing.
Perhaps the reason this didn't come to me earlier is that in my culture, singing and church were practically synonymous. And I wasn't interested in the other things that attending church entailed.
But last summer I was having lunch with a friend, and I had seen a video of her singing at a friend's wedding. She sounded glorious. I admitted to her, "I miss singing. I'd like to join a choir."
"Why don't you join mine?" she said.
So when September rolled around, I went to that choir and I found about two dozen people who also loved to sing. And they sounded so good. It didn't hurt that, as a tenor, I'm a rarity. (As one choir member put it, you could show up naked and the choir director will still let you sing.)
'My authentic voice'
I've been surprised at how good it feels to sing again. Singing forces me to be present and it keeps my brain active. I feel like it gives a voice to my soul. And there's something undeniably magical about all those voices coming together in harmony.
I did struggle to keep up during those first few Wednesday rehearsals. Many of the people in the choir had been singing these songs for years.
I'm a good sight reader, but my range had shrunk a bit in 30 years. I had forgotten how many details one must pay attention to. When do I enter? Does this part slow down or get softer? Is my voice blending with those around me?
At this point in my life, I'm comfortable in my skin. I've been an out gay man for nearly four decades. Unlike in high school, I don't have to pretend to be anything I'm not.
Despite the mild anxiety, I always feel happy when I'm singing. At our Christmas concerts last weekend, there was a song where only the men sang called How Great Our Joy.
The men break into four glorious parts throughout the song and at the end, I got to belt out an E above middle C for 16 counts. That note alone was worth three months of weekly practices.
I've also found that singing has brought another kind of healing.
At this point in my life, I'm comfortable in my skin.
I've been an out gay man for nearly four decades. Unlike in high school, I don't have to pretend to be anything I'm not.
No one in my choir is scandalized when I use the word "husband" to refer to my life partner. A couple of members have teased me about being a diva. I'm definitely not shy to express my opinions, even though I'm the new guy.
The best part of all this is that the voice I bring to the choir is my authentic voice, emanating from my happy, authentic self.
That's the greatest gift I could give myself this holiday season.
This column is part of CBC's Opinion section. For more information about this section, please read this editor's blog and our FAQ.
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December 25, 2019 at 07:00PM
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'Singing has brought another kind of healing': How a chorister rediscovered his voice, years after coming out - CBC.ca
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