Echo Mic Check
When I was five years old I had a teal and purple echo microphone that became practically glued to my hand. I carried it around our upstairs apartment, raising it to my lips any time a message struck me.
One of my favorite night-time activities was to put on a performance for my millions of non-existent viewers.
I would create songs on-the-spot, stringing words and sound effects together, long before I heard the beautiful sounds produced by artists like Doechii and Kendrick Lamar.
I recall watching a home video from that time. When the VHS tape starts to play, the camera is on our Doberman Pinscher, Clayton. He’s limping around our living room with an Ace bandage wrapped around his foot. I hear a lot of laughter and the sound of the television show M.A.S.H. in the background.
The camera turns and there I am.
Brown hair reaching to the middle of my back. Thick bangs cover my eyebrows so distractingly that you almost miss the beautiful hazel eyes below them. Holding the microphone too close to my lips, the harsh sound of static interference and inaudible words come out of the wire that’s poking out of the bottom. In a white cotton nightgown covered with sleeping bears that were floating on clouds and peacefully clinging to their pillows, I swayed back and forth to the rhythm I was creating. To the beat of my own drum, if you will.
“Hey Krys, what are you doing?” A deep voice can be heard now over my singing.
Without pausing my sway I respond, “putting on a show.” I go back to my song.
You can hear a chuckle from the deep voice and a softer, more feminine laugh. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight, time to get ready for bed.” The camera cuts off.
When did the spotlight dim for me?
When did I decide that I had nothing to say, no song to sing, no show to perform?
When did I start pretending that I no longer wanted the microphone?
By the age of 12, over half of girls in the U.S. lose confidence in sharing their opinions*– a statistic that hadn’t missed me.
As mentioned in my previous blog post, creating this space has been a way to reclaim my voice and I hope it gives other women the encouragement to do the same.
I am, in a sense, putting on a show. So of course I’ve considered who is my audience? We must relate to our audience, right?
No shade to you, but I’ve decided that I am my own audience.
I will curate stories the way I want to tell them, not the way I think others want to hear them.
In July, my best friend and her sister-in-law started a podcast, Untamed Blossoms.
Biweekly, they release a new episode, an interview with different incredible women, sharing their fascinating stories, life experiences, and unique perspectives.
Shortly after they got started, I shared a topic idea with Amanda and her response took me by surprise, “sounds like you’d be a great guest to interview for that topic.”
Huh… I hadn’t considered that
A week later I sat in front of a microphone, positioned between my two friends, turned podcast hosts. This time I wasn’t holding the glittery echo mic I had once roared into and the camera wasn’t just panning in my direction.
These gracious women held space for me as I opened up about growing up in poverty in “The Bottoms,” a historically disadvantaged neighborhood in Columbus, Ohio. It was through preparing for the interview that I became passionate about learning more about my family and this neighborhood that held so much of my family’s history and had been the site for so much of our generational trauma.
Because I love to yap, we got off track a few times. The episode ended up being longer than planned, covering so much: growing up in poverty, how the education system misses the mark by focusing too much on test scores, my decision to leave teaching, and how my childhood trauma shaped the way I showed up in the classroom.
Most importantly, this conversation highlights the need for emotional expression and validation for children. They need just one trusted adult to provide a safe space. That kind of mentorship can change a life trajectory.
I’ll be back on the mic again, in their new studio, for my two-year sober anniversary in March.
Want to hear more?
Check out the full convo here!
Check out the full convo here!
*The Confidence Code for Girls: Taking Risks, Messing Up, and Becoming Your Amazingly Imperfect, Totally Powerful Self by Katty Kay and Claire Shipman (2018, HarperCollins).
