Caroline RothsteinVerified account

#amwriting & pitching, a thread: When I applied to college, I recorded myself singing some songs with my voice teacher at boarding school. I mailed these Maxell cassette tapes to choral directors and admissions offices at the eight colleges to which I applied.

When I visited @BrownUniversity & met with the choral director in person, my fantasy was that he would decide my voice was indispensable and tell admissions I was needed—desperately—at Brown, for I was destined—as the dreams of my soul so succinctly sought—to be a Broadway star.

I remember sitting in his office and making the connection for him that I had sent in a cassette tape of my voice. Oh yes, he acknowledged, “Killer alto.” I didn’t get into Brown.

That fall, now a freshman at @Penn, I auditioned for two acapella groups. I got called back to both. Then, I was told over the phone by the older students in charge of auditions, that I had a strong alto belt, it was too musical theater. Not the right fit.

This morning, I received my third rejection for an Op-Ed article I can feel in my bones. Killer alto. Too musical theater. Not the right fit.

I have spent a lot of my life using my voice to take up space. I have also spent a lot of my life silencing my voice in the corner of my body. The room. The world. Feeling silenced by people or things who told me I wasn’t enough.