today was coffeehouse day in my singing elective for nonmajors. we all had to bring in a song of our choice and sing it in front of the class. the professor asked people to volunteer, and there was almost always silence every time, until someone would finally go up.
it was all so scary and intimate and vulnerable and human. we all smiled and clapped after each performance, because up there you showed a bit of who you were. someone sang a taiwanese pop song about heartbreak, and it hurt me in that dark, sharp, lonely way that american songs can’t, a way that goes back to home and childhood. another sang carole king, and i felt a sort of yearning, because it reminded me of myself. we ended with “jingle bell rock,” and she was so shy, and it was so far from christmas, and i still don’t know why listening to it almost made me cry.
i remember i wanted to write you this.