Vocal as a part of me

Growing up, I had a lot of extracurricular activities: dance classes, extra English classes, mental arithmetic, and some other activities I barely remember. The educational center I went to when I was 7 had a bunch of kids’ courses, so my parents used to ask me, “Do you want to go there?” and most of the time my response was “yes.” One of the ‘other’ activities was a vocal course. It was a choir where 4-5 kids sang Kazakh songs and did vocal warm-ups.

I don’t remember much, but during that period, as I started getting older, there wasn’t enough time for every activity. I decided to focus on dance classes and left the choir. However, my soul and body continued singing, which I didn’t realize until February 2022. My contemporary dance class in my neighborhood was closed right after I got my back straightened by an osteopath. Since my childhood, my kidneys weren’t positioned correctly, so my beloved contemporary style, which is full of cartwheels, rolls, and splits, wasn’t healthy for my body.

For 2 months, the creative part of me had no outlet. One day, my mom said,

“You’re being so nervous lately, maybe it’s better for you to try something new, like vocal courses, for example.”

These words pushed me to search for vocal studios. It wasn’t hard to do; I found a studio with an interesting name and signed up for a trial individual lesson.

My first lesson was an introduction to a vocal teacher (one of the greatest people I’ve ever met). I have no doubt he is the reason I believed in myself and stopped being afraid of performing in front of other people. Let’s give my vocal teacher an imaginary name, as he will appear a lot in my story; let it be Ali.

One of the most interesting things about Ali’s studio is that he organized concerts in cafes and restaurants every 2 months to help his students feel free on stage and become confident in their abilities.

My first ‘concert’ was in May, which was only among Ali’s students, and participation in it played a crucial role in the growth of upcoming vocalists. All of us needed to perform 4 songs, then Ali and an opera singer he invited as a guest gave us feedback. That event was extremely nerve-racking, not only because I didn’t know anyone, but also because not a single soul had ever heard my voice! I was shaking and sweating the whole time! (I still do, but the first time was completely different). I almost regretted signing up for it. To my surprise, while singing and dancing, receiving the applause, and getting off the stage, I went through a wide range of indescribable emotions! After the concert finished, I understood that my soul demanded more concerts, more performances, and more singing!

To be honest, the first couple of months were highly stressful. I was getting sick before concerts and becoming too worried about Ali’s students’ opinions, even though they were exceedingly positive, kind, and friendly people. After each lesson, I felt as if my creative battery was charged up, looking forward to the next one.

I prepared responsibly for the concerts Ali organized, inviting my family members and friends. I have recorded 2 covers of Olivia Rodrigo’s “Driver’s License” and Aurora’s “Runaway.” I have performed at 9 concerts already. Our studio had rock, jazz, soundtrack, charity, live band, and duet concerts. We are planning a choir concert soon! It’s hard to imagine me and a 30-piece choir, a completely different level of accountability and preparation. I am immeasurably excited!

Obviously, I have many concert stories to tell, but the November Soundtrack concert was different. I had 3 songs to perform: “When You Wish Upon a Star,” “Firework,” and “Part of Your World.” The song from “The Little Mermaid” was the most difficult one. It was meaningful to convey the Little Mermaid’s emotions to 40 people who were sitting in the hall, including my family.

The time comes, I go up on stage, and the song begins. I forget about everything. The only thing I’m focused on is my performance. There’s a big projector with excerpts from the film behind me. I feel the audience’s eyes on me. I’m underwater. I want to make them believe that I do see another world. I look up and watch the light passing through the water’s surface. I continue singing. I hit and hold a high note, adding vibrato. The song ends. I hear people applauding, supporting, and whistling. I get off the stage. Ali’s students, with whom I became close, hug and compliment me. I run to the locker room. There was no one.

I was shaking, crying, and breathing heavily. I believe I finally understood that I want to be an artist. How am I going to live without these emotions? I’ll apply to be a journalist or interpreter for what? For not being happy? All these thoughts were pulsing in my head as if they were trying to tell me: “Do what you truly like and at least try to make money from it.”

I calmed down, and this university-program-choosing dilemma was resolved. Choreographing a dance, selecting costumes, writing songs, playing instruments, and performing on stage resonate with me. It always did, but I couldn’t feel that way because of societal superstitions. When I was 8 years old, I told my aunt that I wanted to be a singer. She asked me how I was going to earn money for a living, “It’s not a job!” she exclaimed. My child brain identified it as a stupid idea. Therefore, I’ve been constantly doubting my job choices since 7th grade. It’s important not to allow someone else’s superstitions to affect you.

By telling this story, I simply wanted to say that new experiences change people and their vision of the world. I am infinitely grateful to my parents for their support, help, and visits to my performances. I am thankful to Ali for his patience, energy, inspiration, and the concerts that he made regular in his students’ lives. I met new people, became more confident, and opened up to new adventures. The further I go, the more I grow.