The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout, down came the rain and washed the spider out, out came the sun and dried up all the rain and the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again.
When I think of songs like "Itsy-Bitsy Spider" it takes me back to a time when singing was a part of my every day life, whether it was learning the ABC's with the alphabet song, or playing "Ring Around the Rosie" with my friends, or looking up at the night sky with my parents singing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." I have always loved to sing. I even remember as a little girl singing myself to sleep every night. But, in the U.S. (and perhaps in other countries as well), something happens around the ages of 9 or 10--we slowly segregate kids into two groups: those who can sing, and those who can't.
I was in the "can't sing" group. And it was devestating to me.
I'm sure you know which group you're in. Maybe it was a music teacher that asked you to just "mouth the words." Or maybe at camp a friend called you out in front of everyone for singing off-key. But that is when you stopped singing in front of people--I know I did. Sure I still sang in the shower or the car, but it's not the same thing. When we stop singing together, we lose something very important--connection.
I am always delighted and amazed when I see movies about African tribal culture because singing and dancing is so much a part of their lives. I recently saw a movie on the Lost Boys of Sudan, called And God Grew Tired of Us. These people had walked thousands of miles, through terrible circumstances and had seen atrocious things because of the civil war in their country, only to end up in the desert in Ethiopia in a refugee camp with 80,000 people, very little food and water, and maybe, if they were lucky, just the clothes on their backs. In the midst of this, they came together and sang. Their singing together connected them, began to heal them, and even brought them some joy in the middle of a dire circumstance. That's what singing can do.
I have a couple of personal experiences that have made me realize how important singing is for our whole lives and not just when we're children. When I was a young parent, my kids were about three and five, I was spent. Like most young parents, I was putting all of my time and energy into work, the kids, the house and I just ran out of energy to keep doing that. I went to go see a counselor and she asked me, "What do you love to do?"
"Sing," I replied. And she said, "Go do it." So I did.
I found a wonderful voice teacher who got it. He would say, "we're here to share, not to show, to express, not to impress." He knew it wasn't about American Idol--it was about the joy that comes from singing with and for others. (By the way, the voice is an instrument, and like other instruments if you get training and practice, you can improve!) The teacher had a glee club, which I joined and sang with for about five years. I even did solos and duets! I did one duet with my best friend which is one of the highlights of my life. Singing filled me up so that I could continue to take care of the ones I loved.
The other experience that made me realize how important singing is started with a phone call we got at 5:30 in the morning about 10 years ago. You know that call you dread getting? You're sound asleep and the phone rings and your heart is in your mouth? It was that call. My mother-in-law had had a major stroke on the left side of her brain. It took away her function on the right side of her body, and it took away her speech. Tens of thousands of words in the adult vocabulary and she was left with just one: alright.
As anyone who's been through tragedy like this knows, there is laughter amidst the tears. We would laugh, and Joanne would laugh at herself, with her "alright" conversations. But she didn't always laugh. It was frustrating for her not to be able to express herself. Try as we might to rebuild her vocabulary, those brain cells were dead. But what we did discover was that she could SING! Singing, you see, comes from the right side of your brain. She knew every word to songs she'd known her whole life, like "Happy Birthday" or "Take Me Out to the Ballgame." I would take her on walks around the neighborhood and we would sing the songs I knew from glee club, songs from the 40's and 50's like "Dancing Cheek to Cheek." It was so wonderful to hear her voice, to see the joy it brought her to express herself so effortlessly through song, when everything else was so difficult. Those walks where we connected like this are special times I'll never forget.
Today, I'm encouraging you to sing your song! Make a joyful noise! So you don't miss out, so we all don't miss out, on the special connection that comes from joining in song with others.
