My First Rejection Letter. I Was Five.
Class of 1964-65
I was always in the front row.
I always enjoyed the singing part of kindergarten.
Miss J would tap out a note on the piano, then sing our names to us. We would sing it back. After a while, impressed with my ability to stay on key, she approached my parents with a suggestion; a try-out for the Toronto Children's Choir.
My father, already an avid karaoke singer, was willing to take his five year old daughter to the try-out.
Again, fear. Wondering what I should be doing.
I remember entering a room with a couple of older teenage girls and someone at the piano.
"Can you read music?" one of them asked.
"No," I replied.
"Then you'll have to listen, then repeat the song."
The song was a Christmas one — Do You See What I See. I listened. Then I sang my little heart out.
Pretty good, from what I could gather.
Then the wait.
Every day I would scan the mail. Then it came. That fateful day when I ripped open the letter, it was addressed to me, and read it.
Dear Beverly,
Thank you for auditioning for the Toronto Children’s Choir. We truly appreciated the care and enthusiasm you brought to your performance. While your pitch was strong, we found that your overall vocal strength is not yet at the level required for placement in the TCC this season.
We encourage you to continue developing your voice, as your musical potential is clear. With further growth and confidence, we hope you will consider auditioning again in the future.
Warm regards,
The Toronto Children’s Choir
All I read was:
“your voice is too weak”
My heart sank. It literally dropped down into my shoes. I also remember the feeling of the colour draining from my face.
My first rejection letter felt like the end of my life before it even got started. My parents couldn't even read it; their English just wasn't strong enough.
I was on my own with this one. At 5.
It was my first lesson in resilience. It wouldn't be my last. A cookie business, a couple of layoffs, a career reinvention or two (or more but who’s counting?). I've learned to reframe every closed door as tuition for a life of education.
I went on to become an architect, interior designer, a cookie maker, a concept designer, an exhibit design manager, a managing director, a yoga instructor, a sound bath practitioner, and somewhere along the way I taught myself Feng Shui. Not the usual career path.
Maybe my voice was too weak, but the person who grew out of that refused to be.
(Feng Shui. That's a whole other story.)