Why haven’t I written about that day yet?
It doesn’t feel like it happened.
It feels like a dream, I still wake up pinching myself.
Plus it’s easy to write about one emotion, one snippet of time, the smell of coffee, the hole in my sweater.
It’s harder to write about it when your whole life peaks at this one moment and you feel like, YES, yes, this is IT! This is what I want my life to be from here on out! Don’t let me out of here.
Sheer happiness. How do you put words to that? It’s disbelief, for me.
January 18, 2010
I cannot believe I am here at this moment. Here, at the celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr., about to direct a gospel choir full of people. A gospel choir that is mine. Like, I’m the director. Officially.
Heaven has opened its arms and enveloped me in this incredible, amazing gift. Here, Brooke, here is your dream. Hold it and hug it and love it for a few seconds and then you can give it away to this audience. And there will be leftovers, you know.
I look up at the lights to try to pierce through to the sky for just a second to say, Thank You.
It really is a dream.
Martin Luther King had a dream, too. He dreamt of the fulfillment of the pledge of allegiance. Liberty and justice for all.
I want to make people free, too. What do you want the audience to get from our performance? I asked them to write it. A moment of escape, I wrote. Freedom.
It was freedom, being up there. No nerves. We all just felt it. The audience shouted out their love to us. And now we’re a big deal and they want us all over the place. February 20th, UVU. Black History Month, the Terrace. Motown Dance. Genesis fireside.
Rehearsals, 7-8pm, every Thursday, room 3250 WSC.
I’m going to be there, you know, because, well, I’m the director.