Not All Black People Can Sing (part 2)

Did I say that I have a confession to make? I do; but first I want to tell you another singing story.

So, last week at work there were three birthdays (I know, right? I was so excited). We have one new teacher that wasn’t at our Christmas party the last time and she had no idea about my happy birthday song singing ability. So the talented, multi tasking, always on top of things office manager informed me that it was a student’s 18th birthday. This student just so happened to be in the classroom of the teacher that doesn’t know about my gift. So, I calmly walk into the science classroom. The students are working diligently: asking each other questions, talking. I go up to the teacher and inform her that it is the student’s birthday and ask her if I can have permission to interrupt the class to lead them in a chorus of the happy birthday song. She allows it and then comes the announcement:

“Hey, guys! I just wanted to let you all know that today is ‘Sylvester’s’ 18th birthday. If you don’t mind, can you help me sing him happy birthday?” One of the things that made this moment so pleasing was that this student prides himself on making people feel uncomfortable by saying random, off the wall comments. He didn’t expect what was coming.

I open my mouth to sing. All the kids are laughing and smiling. Sylvester isn’t sure that he wants this to happen. He threatens to leave the room but he is blocked in… no escape.

“Happy Birthday to you!!!!.....” I sing the song with a little more than my normal flair. This time, I am inspired by Mariah Carey. You know, how she points her index finger in the air when she is going for a high note? And her voice goes all over the place reminding everyone of her ability to reach crazy high notes and hold her breath for ions? Ya, I did one of those. It was hilarious. It was a hit.
Sylvester turned three shades of red with embarrassment. He was put on the spot and he had no idea of my singing abilities. The kids were falling off their chairs laughing because they had no idea of the wretched sounds that would be escaping my mouth; they’d assumed the sounds would be sweet.

My confession:
I enjoy singing. It is a great feeling to be able to lift my spirit with a song. I sing for the Lord at my church. People don’t cringe when they see me on stage because, for the most part, they enjoy my singing. God enjoys my singing. So, what I have to confess is: this black girl can sing.