November 3, 2020

all together now

My singing career was short-lived, but the four years of high school chorus were replete
with captive audiences. To prepare, each week we gathered in a drafty upstairs room 
in the old arts building. Clustered in groups—tenors to the right of altos, basses to the left
of sopranos—we took turns learning our parts while the choir director stood at the piano
and played notes to keep us on key. It took weeks of fine-tuning, our voices detached
from the whole, before Mrs. Snitko would lift her arms as if guiding a balloon. “All 
together now,” she’d say, and despite all that practice, we stumbled through our roles, 
embarrassed at our disharmony, wondering if we would be prepared enough
before that season’s concert. Perhaps Mrs. Snitko wondered, too, but she’d been at it
so long, she was certain we’d come around. And wouldn’t you know it, we did.