On Talents

Use what talents you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.

 (Henry van Dyke, 1852-1933, educator, clergyman, author of "The Hymn of Joy")

When I taught middle school English, I used to make my students memorize one poem each month. Recitation seems to have fallen out of style in the world of education, but I loved that part of my upbringing. Committing to memory the music of language and thought made me feel rich inside.

One of the poems I regularly taught was Walt Whitman's "I Hear America Singing." Whitman capitalizes on the variety of songs: those of the mechanics, the carpenter, the mason, the boatman, the shoemaker, the wood-cutter, the mother, the young wife, the girl sewing or washing, the party of young fellows--all common folk, the fabric of Whitman's America. Opera stars and Broadway celebrities did not rate mention. How different from today!

Even then, I daresay common people didn't sing because they were good at singing. Few listeners, if any, would likely have paid to hear a common person sing. If they're not very good at singing, why do common folk bother?

Singing springs from us when we're happy, when we love what we're doing, when we revel in the world around us. We sing about things heartfelt or funny or sassy or wistful. We sing together to feel connected and uplifted. We sing when we're healthy. Whitman seems to suggest the strong melodious songs make America itself strong.

Singing is akin to writing. What would happen if only the best writers exercised their skill? We'd miss the unique blend that individuals offer, the rich views of lives different from our own. Therein lies one justification for continuing to write. I may not be much good, but my voice joins the multitude of noise-makers and makes the woods (the world) more interesting, more melodious.