When I was younger I always got made fun of for the way I
spoke. I sounded squeaky. The words I used were too big. The my tone was too
high. It was just another stone mean kids threw. Nevermind I struggled with my
weight. My mother also dressed me. I had cystic acne. Things were not going
well. What I had going for me were my dreams, my love of writing, my love of
creativity, and my skill to nose dive no matter how much of a fool it made me
look.
When college came around, I was in New York. I asked someone
for a gumband. In Pittsburgh, we say gumbands and mean rubber bands. So I asked
for a gumband. These kids who were weaned on Prozac with doctor parents and
went to private schools laughed at me. They didn’t know what the hell I was
talking about. I already hated the way I talked and felt like a redneck who had
hopelessly wandered into a Metropolis. Then there was the incident in the
speech class where my sounds were hopelessly being corrected. That is when one
of my teachers who was from Pittsburgh said, “It’s your accent coming out.”
The kids in my class said, “April isnt just weird.”
“No,” My teacher explained. “There is a whole city of people
who talk just like this.” Awestruck and fascinated, my classmates went to a
website where regional dialects were listed. That semester, our section at The
Lee Strasberg Institute became obsessed with my accent and my slanguage. For
the first time ever, I was alright with the way I talked.
The serenity would be short lived. During my junior year, I
managed to get into a relationship with someone that was abusive. I have
written about him. He made me give up my puppets and that was just the tip of
the iceberg. When things were heating up between us, I was set to hang out with
his friends. We were sipping coffee at Starbucks and my ex said, “When you hang
out with my friends, just…..play it cool.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked confused.
“Look, my friends don’t like the way you talk.”
“What?”
“Yeah, they say you sound like a chipmunk.” My confidence
was shot. It was an arrow. My ex wasn’t defending me against his friends and
now I had to compromise. I sent the session with him and his boys silent as a
mime. I soon tried to change the way I talked which just made me feel like a
fraud. I swore a lot which made me feel fake. I tried to drop my voice which
made me feel like a man. It didn’t work. I became a phony mute about a lot of
things, like the extent of the abuse I was facing. I don’t know what was worse
about that part of my life, the fact I had to endure it or the fact I chose to
put up with it.
When the relationship ended, I was left a self-loathing
mess. I remember doing a set where someone told me the way I spoke was
distinct. I thought it was their way of saying annoying. When my ex and his
friends began their relentless campaign of harassment, one thing they aimed at
was the way I spoke. I remember thinking that I was smarter and better than
they were, and one day I had the guts to realize it and that’s how I was able
to escape. That is when I realized I had let him take away my sense of
self-worth. The way I spoke was okay. It was alright. And anyone who didn’t like
it could go to hell.
Slowly I began to embrace the way I spoke. It not only
became a part of the new, confident me. As I became more confident in my
speaking voice, my singing voice began to take a better shape. Granted, it was always
it’s own animal, but I better understood how to make it more pleasing to the
ear. I wasn’t afraid of what people would say about me. If they didn’t like the
way I spoke we didn’t have to be friends, plain and simple.
This past winter/spring Metrophonic and Mercy Sound became a
second home to me. My old college classmate and sound engineer Archie Ekong
explained my fans would want to hear me reading my book. Archie told me it
would have a unique flavor with me narrating. Then he said, “April, you are the
only one with your voice. It’s pretty distinct.”
“Yeah, that’s what people tell me. I don’t think I will get
away with prank calling anyone soon.” I said.
Archie looked at me dead in the eye and said, “No.” And we both
burst out laughing. At that moment I realized that it was pretty cool that I
was the only one who spoke like I did.
These past few years have also seen success not only in the
realms of writing but also comedy getting me television time. Sometimes fans
recognize me when armed with my puppets. Other times, I will get recognized by
the way I speak. The other day, I was at a meeting for a pilot I am shooting.
We were deeply emerged in a discussion when the waitress came over. She asked
me, “Excuse me, I have a question for you.”
“Yes.” I asked.
“Are you a comedian?”
“Yes.”
“The guy who works with you in the back thinks he saw you on
TV.” My jaw dropped open. He was in the back. There was no way in hell he could
have seen me.
“How did he know it was me?” I asked.
“Oh, he recognized your voice and says you are very funny.”
She replied. My jaw dropped open. This was awesome!!!! I made a new fan and
friend. Something like this is double awesome when it happens at a pilot pitch
meeting. My co-host and co-producer thought it was pretty cool as well.
Later that evening, I was running errands and heard two kids
talking. They were taking fun of this young woman in their class at school and
the way she spoke. These two mean girls mimicked her. It made me think of some
of the people who gave me the same “star treatment” back in the day that now
have the audacity to write me a facebook letter to congratulate me when things
go well with the career. Actually, it was disgusting as it brought back a flood
of hellacious memories.
Then I passed the theatre where Kinky Boots played. I
remember when Cyndi Lauper did an interview where she spoke about being bullied
for the way she spoke and dressed. She remarked in her Betty Boop-eque twang, “They
used to throw rocks at me for my clothes, now they want to know where I get
them.”
For the longest time my voice was like Rudolph’s nose.
People made fun of me for having it, now it part of the package that is
beginning to make me successful. Cyndi Lauper’s, it is part of the package that
has made her a legend. Hopefully the young lady they were making fun of will
just realize that those two are idiots who need to be ignored and won’t feed
in.
Hopefully she won’t care and will always use her voice.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
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