The Biology Exam that Changed my Life
How we approach our own learning style and rate of progress as singers is perhaps one of the most influential factors in our capacity to truly reach our potential. So, if you ever struggle with feeling like you’re taking too long to learn a skill or to understand an idea, read on.
Am I going to take you back to my Grade 11 year in 2001 to get us started on this topic? Yes. Do I promise there’s a good reason for it? Indeed.
I remember arming myself with stacks of cue cards; pink, blue, orange, and yellow highlighters at the ready. I wrote out all the biology terms I needed to know for the upcoming Grade 11 Biology exam and settled in to read and re-read them until I had every term drilled into my brain.
I was determined to do well on this exam. I studied for hours. I probably even purchased a new purple highlighter and some coloured cue cards just to show how serious I was (any of you fellow stationery lovers will understand the thrill and meaning of this).
After faithfully studying in the lead-up to the exam, I entered the class feeling that I would surely do well. I had studied the only way I knew how—it had to work. I could read the term on the front side of the cue card, recite what it meant, and voilà, the back of the card confirmed it—I knew the thing! I strolled over to my desk, put my weighty, textbook-laden backpack on the floor, and scooted up onto the rickety metal stool to start the exam.
I did horribly. I stared blankly at the page as the part of my brain holding all my Biology 11 knowledge apparently picked up the heavy, knowledge-laden backpack of everything I’d studied and strolled swiftly out of my ear and out the door.
I was so discouraged. In fact, I was sure that I was dumb. I had really never done well at school- it didn’t seem to matter how hard I tried. My friends seemed to study way less than I did and aced their tests. No matter how hard I studied, I rarely did well.
The day I got my exam back with a big red C at the top instead of the A+ I’d envisioned, I felt hot with embarrassment and frustrated too. My biology teacher took to the front of the room and, I swear, looked straight at me. I was anticipating a look of disdain—surely, with my results, he would think I hadn’t studied at all. But instead, I saw in his eyes a look of kindness and understanding. I could tell he knew I’d tried really hard.
I can’t remember his exact words, but he said something along the lines of: “I’d like to talk about what it means to study. We all learn differently, and I want all of you to start exploring different ways of developing a true understanding of what you’re studying.” He then went on to write on the chalkboard that if we wanted to truly learn something, we should explore different ways of engaging with the material. He suggested we: read it, write it, sing it, draw it, dance it, teach it.
He went on from there with all sorts of fun studying tips and tricks. I had never considered all the possibilities he shared, but I felt a surge of something like hope as he did. The idea dawned on me that I might not be dumb—I might just need to figure out how I digested information. I knew I could memorize the lyrics to most songs after a couple of listens, so of course it would make sense that I should sing my biology terms, not just write them on a cue card. I spent hours doodling and drawing animals. I loved making up crazy dances in my living room and was already exploring teaching through leading horsemanship classes in the summers—so of course drawing, dancing, and teaching would be creatively satisfying and meaningful ways for me to absorb information! I dove all in with this approach, noting that singing, drawing, and especially teaching any new concept or skill I was working on transformed my understanding of it. It would not be an exaggeration to say that this teacher’s advice changed my life. My GPA soared, and more importantly, my sense of empowerment and belief in my capabilities grew. I went on to do extremely well in my last two years of high school, without which I likely would never have been accepted into UBC in the first place—the university where I would go on to study music.
What on earth does this have to do with singing?
How we relate to how we learn is a huge part of discovering what’s possible for us as singers. I was someone who really judged myself for how long it took me to absorb certain types of information or to develop a skill. If I wasn’t fast at it, it meant I wasn’t smart. If a skill wasn’t pretty much automatic, it meant I wasn’t capable of developing it in any significant way. If I didn’t learn the “right” way, then I was somehow less intelligent.
Whether it’s singing in harmony, reading sheet music, finding power in your upper register, learning scales, memorizing music, improvising or singing in different languages, how you learn is simply that—it’s how you learn. In my humble view, there is not right way - there’s just the way you learn.There is no hierarchy. There is no ideal amount of time. Embracing this fact and leaning into supporting your unique learning style in every way you can will unlock a boundless amount of potential while judging how you learn will leave you feeling stagnant and hopeless.
When I auditioned (on a fearful yet determined whim) for music school, I had to do a pre-entry certificate program because I had no formal musical training or vocal experience to speak of. I was a true beginner. I did sing in choir in Grade 11 because I had to for an arts credit—but I mostly mouthed the words. I was terrified of singing in front of others, struggled with holding my harmony, and was less than keen on the choir director, who had some cruel tendencies toward timid singers.
So when I was thrown into a small vocal jazz ensemble in my second year of music school, with four-part harmony and the responsibility to learn and confidently sing the often whacky, musically and rhythmically complex Alto 2 part, I was in trouble. I would practice for hours a day—truly, hours!—and then when I showed up to rehearsal, I would inevitably lose my hold on my part as the sopranos’ soaring high voices totally distracted me from my line. The director never, ever got mad at me. She knew me, and she knew how hard I was working. Whenever I struggled, she would meet my eye with that same kind knowing my biology teacher had, and the lesson I’d learned in Grade 11 came back to me.
I kept practicing and getting creative about how I practiced. I let go of judging myself for struggling and just kept at it. I also let go of the pressure to get it perfect quickly. I gave myself the grace to learn at my pace.
I practiced playing my part on the piano, then sang along with the piano, then recorded myself singing and listened back to it over and over. Then I practiced singing my strange Alto 2 harmonies as if they were the most beautiful melody in the world. I sang full fortissimo, with over-the-top emotional expression. I sang while moving, dancing, doing the dishes. And eventually, through engaging with my part in this multitude of ways, I began to hold my own with strength and confidence. Soon, I developed the ability to learn harmonies quickly and securely. I started to relish the challenges. As I went on to do my Masters in Opera, I found myself drawn to very challenging, contemporary art song and opera - music I would have never thought I would be adept at learning in my early days of studying music.
And yet, because I had simply embraced how I needed to learn, I discovered what I was capable of! So, here’s my recommendation if you are feeling doubtful or full of self-judgement around your progress in singing or any other area of learning in your life”
Let go of your timeline—give yourself permission to learn at the pace you learn.
Let go of judging yourself—we all learn differently. Get curious about what you need in order to truly absorb the material or develop the skill you’re working on.
Lean into possibility—I believe anyone can grow as a singer. We all have the capacity to develop what we can do with our voice. Release the barriers in your mind around what you think you can and can’t do, and fall in love with the process!
Stretching ourselves by learning new things is a way to challenge the expectations we have around what we think we can and can’t do. It is such an exciting and meaningful part of being human. So - what would you love to learn to do with your voice that you haven’t pursued because of some long held belief around it not being possible for you? Release that barrier, start small and start now!
