If you don’t raise your hand…You won’t get picked.

It was a relatively small moment. The kind of moment that passes by without too much fuss. But this particular occasion hit me like a ton of bricks. It changed how I looked at things and forever altered the way I would respond to situations for the rest of my life.

I was sitting in the music room at Barnhart Elementary school for chorus practice. I’m not sure if it was 3rd or 4th grade, but it was somewhere around there. The boys were separated into tenors and bases. The girls were split up into altos, sopranos and 1st sopranos.

I was an alto. And I didn’t like it.

I’m not exactly sure why.  But I do remember that in my adolescent mind, being an alto seemed so dull. So boring. I wanted to be a lilting, trilling, delicate soprano. Not a clunky, booming, thudding alto.

But nevertheless, I was an alto. And I was too much of a goody-goody to risk irritating Mrs. Reuter with my dissatisfaction. So I quietly bemoaned my fate, as I learned my low, droning harmonies, and listened to the sopranos sing full out, feeling the joy of the melody.

Until one day.

There must have been some number-shifting-teacher reason that I am still unprivy to, but Mrs. Reuter asked if any of the alto’s would like to be moved up to the Sopranos. She just needed one person.

Oh my GOSH! I was so excited!

I never dreamed this would ever happen, yet here it was! I didn’t want to seem overly eager. I had to play this right. I was going to be the perfect student so that she would see how much I wanted it, and would pick me!

I sat upright, with my hands in my lap, the ideal pupil, looking intently at Mrs. Reuter. The other kids arms shot up around me, but I held still. Mrs. Reuter paused for a moment, considering her choice, and picked…one of the kids with their hands up.

I couldn’t believe it! Didn’t she see that I wanted it more than any of these other kids? Didn’t she see the excitement I was containing as I held myself perfectly still? Didn’t she see that this was what I had been waiting for?

At that moment I suddenly saw things from another angle.

Mrs. Reuter didn’t see my inner hopes. She didn’t see my deepest wishes and desires. What she saw was a number of kids who did want to to fill that soprano spot, and some others that didn’t. And she thought I was one of the kids that didn’t…because I didn’t raise my hand.

It was a true epiphany: If you don’t tell someone what you want…how are they supposed to know?

It seems so obvious when you say it, but its a lesson that has repeated itself throughout my life. In my personal relationships… In my professional endeavors… In my passion projects.

You know that silly dance where you don’t really say what you mean, and then the other person gets the wrong idea, and then you are mad, and they are mad, but no one is saying what the real issue is?

No thank you. I would much rather just deal with what is. You tell it to me straight and lets work it out.

Throughout my professional career, the instinct has served me well too… most of the time. There was this one time I went in to my bosses office to declare that I was interested in taking over the position of someone who was leaving, only to find out that they hadn’t given their notice to the boss yet. Oops. But I’m sure the boss  had a laugh and saw a young girl with tenacity, albeit a little ‘green’.

There have been countless other moments where I was faced with the decision to jump or stay sitting down. Most of the time I have taken the leap. Because I already know what its like to want something so badly and lose out on it just because you didn’t think you should ‘rock the boat’.

When it comes to the things that mean the most to my heart, there seems no reason to hold back. The worst that can happen is that it doesn’t work out, the answer is no, or I learn a lesson through a ‘failure’. But there is always the chance that something amazing will happen.

And as I get older, its seems even sillier not to go for things I want. Because the one thing I know for sure is that if I don’t ask for it, I can be sure, I’m not going to get it.