I love attending school band concerts. I love watching the progression from squeaky and somewhat cringy at times to a band that sounds like they know what they’re doing. And when they know how to make mistakes, I love seeing how they rebound; just playing through it or waiting until they can jump in again, knowing the band has their back.
So I’m always excited for my nephew’s band concerts and last week he had a jazz concert. They played some great music and had an amazing guest performer and conductor who’s been working with the bands. They even had a second guest performer: a student they brought in to play the piano and sing for one of the songs.
There was a grand introduction: we learned the history of the song, including some of the people who have covered it, and when he was introduced he was likened to a young Frank Sinatra. He sat down at the piano, made sure he had room to play, adjusted his microphone, and gave the nod that the band could start. So they did.
And that’s when the microphone backed away. He brought it forward and tried to readjust it, but it wouldn’t stay in place. When it was time for him to start, he had to hold the microphone with one hand and play the piano with the other. It was so not what you want when you have a performance!
One of the percussionists was playing the tambourine and he saw what happened. It took him a minute to get to the pianist, but once he was there he held the microphone. The pianist was able to play the song. Obviously flustered, I don’t think we ever heard his voice at his best, but he did an amazing job.
I’m sure you’ve all heard the saying: “Be the woman who fixes another woman’s crown without telling the world it was crooked.” And while I love the sentiment behind it, I’ve always thought, “Sometimes we don’t need to be fixed.”
(Well, that and “What if she wanted it to be crooked?” But that might be another post for another day.)
Sometimes we don’t need a fix, but I think more often than we know or admit or ask for it (or even respond if we see someone who needs help), we need someone to hold our mic to help us through the song… or the month… or maybe even the year. So…
Be the woman who holds another woman’s mic when it’s running away from her.
Be the woman who sees a woman who needs help… or even just needs a friend… and be there for her.
This doesn’t mean that you have to overextend yourself. That you can’t offer other resources should she need them.
But I also know from experience that a simple text saying, “Hi, how are you?” means the world sometime. That an unexpected cup of coffee can brighten my day. That an offer of Smarties from someone in the office gives me an extra boost of energy during a long day.
And I want to do the same for others.
I want to be the woman who holds another woman’s mic when it’s running away from her.
I would encourage you to think about how you can hold someone’s mic for them this week. I’m going to do the same.