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#Post#: 106--------------------------------------------------
God Gave us Lungs
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: January 4, 2020, 8:08 pm
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"Come down to the front..." Mr. Wickert, the music teacher asked
Zia who told him her name. "What grade are you in?"
"Ninth."
"OK, we begin by doing scales today and then I teach you all the
Dodo song. Those who don't know it yet. You'll use the Dodo song
to try out on Thursday."
Mr. Wickert began by singing a scale in his big, booming,
baritone voice. The chorus responded or the wannabee chorus. It
was mostly female. They sounded pretty together. Zia loved
feeling her voice lost in the group. She even liked the DoDo
song even if was one of the stupidest things she ever heard.
We are Kotiah-Yovanovitch School
Home of the DoDo's
And that's cool.
Home of the DoDo's
Did you think
That birds like us
Had gone extinct?
Dazzling DoDo's walk proud
On two legs.
DoDo's don't steal, borrow or beg.
To the Dazzling DoDo's we'll be true.
Oh Dazzling DoDo's we love you!
"You'll need to have this memorized," Mr. Wickert added. Several
of the girls groaned. A few of the older boys smirked. Mr.
Wickert beat out the tune on his piano and everyone sung along.
It was all in unison, no parts. They sang it again, and again,
and yet again. Mr. Wickert advised them to sing it in the shower
and walking to class. Zia did not ask what she had gotten
herself into. Just as the Superintendant was totally serious
about the morning announcements which were useless to a girl who
ate porridge and tea for breakfast every day, someone was very
serious about the DoDo Song. There were dumber things in the
universe, Zia was sure, but there were not too many. She told
herself that the juniors and seniors who sung in chorus all had
to learn and sing that song, so she would too. She also told
herself that Junior Achievement would be better.
#Post#: 116--------------------------------------------------
Re: God Gave us Lungs
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: January 7, 2020, 3:52 pm
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Junior Achievement the previous day had been downright awful,
but not for political or snobbish reasons. It had been boring.
There was a long book of protocol and each member, including
ninth grade recruits like Zia, got a booklet. There was
discussion of what was possible for a fall project. There was
discussion of budgets and funds. There was discussion of
speakers, and then discussion of office holders which took up
most of the meeting.
The next meeting was next week on Wednesday afternoon, if Zia
didn't find something better, even though she liked the idea of
making something and selling it at a profit. "Business makes the
world go round, the prosperous world go round," she told
herself.
Chorus tryouts at least began with singing. Zia did not care if
it was scales and other vocal exercises. She liked the way all
those voices sounded. She liked losing her voice in the group
and being part of that sound. Then it was time for the tryouts
of course.
Zia was nervous. Mr. Wickert explained that there was space for
approximately half the ninth graders. The chorus always needed
second sopranos. Zia had no idea what part she sung. In convent
school, everyone sung together or the parts got randomly
assigned. Chorus at Kotiah-Yovanovitch was more professional.
There were actually types of voices and you got assigned a part
you had all year. That was the way Zia understood it.
She stood in line listening to a girl with a big deep voice,
belt out the DoDo song. The next girl could hardly carry a tune.
The girl after that got out of line and ran out the door. Zia
began to feel nervous.
She remembered singing in the shower last night. She also sung
in the bathroom even when she didn't shower and she sang when
she crossed campus on her own after the Junior Achievement
meeting. Last night though Kristen came into the bathroom and
said: "Oh shit! That song is so fucking retarded!" Zia pretended
not to hear and kept on singing. "Where the fuck did you learn
it."
"It's for chorus," Zia answered.
"You're crazy," Kristen told her.
"I'm crazy," thought Zia as she walked over to the piano and Mr.
Wickert said "ready." He began to play and she began to sing.
She got through it. That was all.
"Can you sing louder?" Mr. Wickert asked.
"He's giving me a do-over," thought Zia.
"Straighten up," Mr. Wickert ordered. "There...Now put your
shoulders back. I want you to sing so the whole auditorium can
hear you without a mic."
"That's not how one sings in chorus," Zia refused to bite.
"If we sing accapella I need all voices turned up. Let's see
what happens if you turn up the volume."
Zia stood up straight. She put back her shoulders. She smiled to
put a good face on it, and she sang. She was no longer ironing
clothes. She was no longer soothing herself under the shower's
spray. She hardly heard herself at all. She felt the sound
inside her. She even felt a bit sad when the song was over.
"Beautiful!" smiled Mr. Wickert. "You know you've got the
makings of a pretty good second soprano."
"That's what you need isn't it."
"That's your voice too."
"Thank you," answered Zia. Singing two to four times a week for
an extracurricular was a sweet deal even if Kristen was right
about The Dodo Song.
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