You Won’t Find Many 14-Year-Olds Who Can Do THAT.
Dylan – my ADHD-afflicted parenting challenge – is a singer.
When I say that Dylan sings, I mean he always sings. In second grade, one particularly permissive teacher said, “The only time I ever have a problem with him is when his singing gets too loud.”
“He sings during class?” I asked, knowing he sings at home constantly.
“Sure, all the time,” she said. “But I don’t mind unless it distracts the other students.”
So we’ve always known Dylan was musical. He got a starring role in the second grade musical. He started taking voice lessons in third grade. He performed solo at church and school talent shows and county fairs. He auditioned for the prestigious Children’s Chorus of Washington and went directly into the top tier – meaning he sang in some world famous venues, including six in China. He also performed O Mio Babbino Caro to a standing ovation at school.
One night, during a particularly high note of Panis Angelicus at church on Christmas Eve, Dylan’s voice cracked. Once.
It was starting to change. And that’s when Dylan determined that his singing career was over. He hopped on YouTube and learned to play piano. He took guitar class at school. He created digital music for awhile.
After two years of hiatus, Dylan took his guitar to audition for the high school choral director – who also teaches guitar class. Dylan said if he couldn’t sing, he would at least audition for Guitar 2.
But he could still sing.
The choral director was quite excited, hearing Dylan sing, and selected him for the traditionally upperclassmen’s Chamber Choir. Then he suggested that Dylan take a few lessons over the summer, to get reacquainted with his new, lower voice.
So we scoured the earth and found a voice coach we liked. Later, we learned that this voice coach – whose own singing voice has the power of a locomotive – is a Peabody graduate with 40 years of musical experience. This man is one of the most impressive musical talents I’ve ever met.
After Dylan’s first lesson, the new voice coach said that Dylan had “perfect pitch” – a term I’ve yet to understand. Apparently it is unusual. Then the coach said that most people with perfect pitch don’t have Dylan’s talent for singing.
“I’m really looking forward to working with you,” he said on our way out. “And I don’t say that about everybody.”
After his third lesson, the voice coach asked Dylan to sing a few operatic-style lines for me.
It was astounding. Dylan’s new, lower voice had a strength and power that I’d never heard come from Dylan before. My little boy sounded like a full-grown man, with an absolutely incredible range – nearly two full octaves of awesome perfect-pitch power.
When the voice coach looked at me, I had tears in my eyes.
He said, “Yeah. All the way to a B flat. You won’t find many 14-year-olds who can do that. In my 40 years of teaching music, I can tell you that it is very, very rare.”
I see Dylan every day, struggling with school work, homework, remembering simple things like shoes and a lunchbox. I know that everyone is given their unique set of challenges and gifts.
And sometimes, it is nice to just sit back and be awestruck by the gifts.