As I watched that old video yesterday, the power of the production hit me hard. As the lead singer does his thing, the “homely” girl in the story hangs her head while the tall beauty in the bright red dress confidently struts her stuff. The irony is made even more potent when the “lesser” woman opens her mouth to sing. The quality of her voice is stunning, and the point is made that, if not for her boyish and frumpy appearance, she would have been the video star.
Last week, my friend Karen Carey posted a poem on Facebook. The first two verses struck a chord (pun intended.) The poem trumpets the current climate, so I asked her if I could share part of it here.
“How would you treat me if you could not see…
My race, my age, my face.
How would you treat me if you could only see…
My soul, my heart, my grace.”
The poem immediately reminded me of a childhood experience. On the first day of kindergarten, I met Beverly. We quickly became buddies who shared lunches, giggled during nap time, and as each school day ended, we hugged like we would never see each other again.
One afternoon after a long hug, I climbed the steps of good old bus 19, and was confronted by an older kid. She sneered, stuck her finger in my face, and called me a name. Looking around, I noticed other kids averting their eyes appearing to be embarrassed. When I got home, I asked my mother what the word meant.
“Where would you have heard something like that?” she asked crossly. I took a step back in surprise. “If I ever hear you say that again, I will wash your mouth out with soap. Do you understand me, young lady?” That part I understood. Later, my older and much wiser brother explained that the term was a negative word used to describe people who didn’t look like us.
To me, Karen’s poem isn’t just about being different in the body. Some time back, I joined a writers’ group where I was the youngest member by twenty years. One week, a woman shared a poem she called Fading Away. It spoke to her feeling that she was slowly becoming transparent, as though as she aged, others could no longer see her vibrancy, and no matter how loud she shouted, no one could hear her relevancy.
Karen’s question is so valuable. How would you treat me if you couldn’t see my race, my age, my face?
Video did kill the radio star. Maybe now it’s time to bring radio back.
On a different note (once more, the pun is intended) Wednesday is the last day to sign up for our visioning class A Clearer Vision.
Visioning is a practical way to create your dream for a better life. With clarity and focus, you more easily bring to life what you envision. But ours is not a typical vision boarding course. We have added a twist. Because we believe in the power of visioning, we have created a guidebook and videos intended to walk you step-by-step to a clearer vision of what you desire your life to be. If you prefer to work your vision alone, you will have the videos and guidebook to do on your own time and as many times as you would like. If you would like to work with the group, we’ll meet on Zoom on January 28th at 7:00 PM EST to construct our boards and share our hopes and dreams together.
Until next time.