This is not a melodramatic title. This is truth. I sincerely believe that if I had not joined choir in 7th grade, I would not be here today.

My (Pitiful) School Life Before Choir

Before I joined the middle school choir in 7th grade, I was a complete nobody in school. I was generally ignored or teased–treated with either indifference or malice–by the people I went to school with. I had no place in my grade’s social structure, not even the dubious grace of a “label” to slap on myself. If anybody called me anything, it was all based on negatives–there was nothing that I positively contributed to my grade level’s society, nothing I did that was particular to me.

As a result, I felt completely alienated from the rest of my classmates, and life was emotionally very stressful. When school mornings came, sometimes I would lay in bed worrying about the horrible school day I was going to face, and end up making myself sick, ending up in the bathroom all day. (Now, I know I was likely having anxiety attacks, but back then I thought I was just sick with stomach flu all the time.)

This behavior, both on my part and the part of my classmates, peaked in 6th grade, and by the time I turned 12 I had had it with my life; I thought about death every day, because death seemed like a blissful nothing in comparison to the shouted insults and often physically painful teasing. Not only that, I didn’t think I was DOING anything good with my life–it seemed like I didn’t mean anything to anybody anymore, not even myself. Depression had me fast in its grip, and in that dimness I saw nothing of the people who indeed did love me during that time.

A (Supposedly) Throwaway Decision

When it came time to sign up for 7th grade classes, I didn’t much care what I did–I was gunning more for the end of the year and a well-deserved summer away from all the mean kids I went to school with. But the musical category of classes caught my eye, and in particular 7th-grade Chorus. Both my older cousins had been in Band most of their school years and had enjoyed it, but I wanted to try out Chorus–“just for a year,” I explained to my parents. “Then, if I don’t like it, I can always switch to Band.”

My other motivation for choosing Chorus was that I had been in my elementary school’s choir for a year, and I had enjoyed singing, though I didn’t think I had much of an instrument to work with. My voice always came out kind of breathy and soft, though everyone who listened to me said the pitch was true. I figured I had nothing to lose by joining Chorus, and if it turned out I didn’t have anything to work with after all, I could switch to something else musical instead. I already played the piano, and thought that if my voice wasn’t enough, I could potentially learn another instrument.

So, after discussing it with my parents, both of whom encouraged me to join the chorus, I signed up to start in the fall of my 7th-grade year.

The Turnaround

This one decision changed my entire life within months of joining the chorus. As I’ve noted in my blog post Joining My Voice with Others, I discovered the strength of my voice, and began to thoroughly enjoy singing in choirs. Not only that, it is a creative outlet I have continued even into the present.

But WHY did it affect me this way, at 13?

Part of it lies in the psychological effect of being part of a big group doing something larger than any individual could do. I had a social place in my school, at last–I had a reason to go to school, a positive label to put on myself. I could point to the choir and say “I’m part of that;” I was no longer just “the ugly girl” or the “fat girl,” but “the girl who sings.” And my voice was no longer breathy and soft, but strong and powerful. I had a gift which was finally being recognized by the kids I went to school with. 7th grade was still stressful for me in places, but it was a watershed year; I could bloom, at last.

The other part of why choir saved my life was how it interacted with my personality. I like to be able to help other people, to do things that other people find valuable. (This blog is an example–I write six posts every week, hoping that someone else finds as much value in them as I do.) 7th-grade chorus allowed me, for the first time, to do something others considered valuable without them running away from me in horror. (When I’d tried to be nice to my classmates before, that was their typical reaction…I still have no idea why.) Now, the kindnesses I could do for others were appreciated and returned to me, not discarded, and I felt a lot more positive about my life as a result.

Death suddenly had very little attraction for me; I had something to go to school for, something to live for. Other people began to talk to me in more positive tones, about my music and my voice, and I could finally hear them, after years of having to shut them out because they were making fun of me. Chorus changed the social topography of my life, utterly, and most definitely for the better.

How Does This Link to Creativity?

This is a story not just of coming back from depression and suicidal thoughts, but of creativity, too. Not only did I feel more comfortable living my life, but I felt more comfortable doing creative things in my life, as well. My works were beginning to be valued, and at 13, it was exactly the kind of boost I needed for my self-esteem. Working with other singers, all striving for a great performance, gave me purpose, and gave me fuel for my own works–my writing and my music.

This is why I’m such a proponent of music education, and indeed all fine arts education, in schools. If fine arts had been taken out of my school before I had a chance to be in it, there is a very good chance I would not have seen my 14th birthday; my life would have had no hope in it, and I would have likely turned my thoughts of death into a reality. If fine arts and creativity can soothe the savage beast of depression and anxiety, which our modern schoolchildren are indeed suffering from in droves, then more of it, not less of it, should be incorporated.

I know, I know, we should be training our future workforce in “useful skills,” which is why fine arts education has been cut or eliminated in many schools. Many people who have never experienced the power of art on their lives may wonder, “Why waste money on teaching them skills that won’t help them in the real world?” But here is the flip side: we do want our future workforce to actually reach adulthood, don’t we?

As I well know from my teaching days, a life without creativity, without beauty and devoid of passion, is a life nearly not worth living. A life with creativity, on the other hand, with the capacity for beauty and passion, is a life that sings with our souls.