Star Spangled Laughter

Last week, the glorious week of Thanksgiving, my students spent the first five minutes of each class (and not just mine) preparing for a singing competition that was to be held on the Friday after Thanksgiving. All day everyday the students were walking around singing their class's songs. As there are 16 different classes, there were also 16 different songs. Each song had a very patriotic appeal to it, that is to say that each sounded especially communist in nature. Upon asking several of the classes the origin of the songs I learned that many of the songs were in fact from the 1940's and 1950's and talked about the strength, might and power of the new Chinese regime. Some of the songs were even soldier marching songs (I immediately imagined a bunch of Chinese soldiers marching to a Chinese version of the MICKEY MOUSE marine march at the end of Full Metal Jacket). As the week continued my fascination and appreciation of the students ability to sing so well increased and I grew excited about watching the singing competition when the time came.

On Friday, after my last class, I moseyed my way towards the front entrance of the school. This just happened to be the location of the singing competition because it is first very beautiful and, second, the only place large enough to seat 1000 students. As the competition was in the front it meant that to get there I had to walk through the front doors of the school, which also happened to be center stage. The MC for the event, one of the teachers, began rattling off in Chinese, but in the midst of his talking I could distinctly make out one word very clearly, Wilson. Upon saying this word, my last name, the students roared. I felt special for a brief moment and then wondered what they wanted. It turned out that my intrusion gave the MC a chance to fill a judging seat that had apparently been open. Keeping my relations with my teachers and classes at a high point, I met this request with a welcoming smile and was quite a good judge.

My criteria for judging was three fold. First was the content of the songs being sung (1-10 scale). As I don't speak a lick of decent Chinese, my basis for judgment relied on whether or not Chairman Mao's name could be clearly heard in the song. Since most of the songs were old soldier marching songs, most of the classes got a 10. Second was a the appearance of the students (1-10 scale). On this I was more harsh. Some of the classes went out of their way to have matching dress that was separate from the normal school uniform, they got a perfect 10. Others got points for their formation and some lost points for students out of school uniform. Third was the sound and collaboration of the song (1-30 scale). Since I am not a good singer myself, I was quite generous on this matter, but to be honest there is nothing better sounding than a group of patriotic students proudly singing the songs of their country.

After 16 very long and incomprehensible songs the judging cards were picked up and the scores were tallied. While the marks were being counted the teachers got together and sang a song to fill the time - equally patriotic in nature. However, the time was not completely filled and the MC got back up and began speaking again. And again, in the middle of his chatter, I heard the word Wilson. I just assumed that he was thanking me for being a judge and spending my afternoon there with the students - I was wrong. No, in perfect Chenglish, he quickly informed me that it was my turn to sing a song. Flushed with overpowering embarrassment I ducked my head and shook my hands to declare my discomfort, but the MC was overly insistent; so much so that he started, and I couldn't believe this, the 'Wilson' chant. All of the students began chanting "Wilson, Wilson, Wilson, Wilson;" it was the sound of fate echoing in my ears.

I stood up, not being able to disappoint my students who clearly wanted me to lose all the face I ever gained at their school, and took the microphone. As I turned around I could see before me a painful sight. Not only were my 1000 students sitting there grinning with anticipations, and not only were all 50 (or so) of my fellow teachers also waiting for me to fall on my face, but by some miracle of Satan the street on the other side of the gate had been filled with random Chinese citizens and construction workers from who knows where. There were easily over 2000 people in front of me and I have never sung to an audience, ever, and that is for a reason; I sing terribly. Standing there, I shuffled through my music library thinking of any song that would sit me down fast. Hindsight tells me that "You are my sunshine" or "Three Little Birds" would have been a good choice... but hindsight failed me that day. No, in the midst of the patriotic appeal the students had ushered onto me I also had a song in mind, the only song I could think of, and the only song which I know all of the words to by heart - The Star Spangled Banner.

It didn't take long to figure out why people clap for the singers of this song as sports games, it is a ridiculously hard song to sing. I knew that ahead of time, but my clouded mind didn't let me understand this fact. As I stood there hitting all of the low notes and dreading the high ones, I could hear my heart beating so loudly that the thud was coming through the microphone and out of the speaker... my own personal metronome. I could see in my mind an image of Francis Scott Key rolling in his grave and shivering with hatred of my voice. But, God bless those students, they clapped for me and made me feel like I did something amazing. I knew the truth, of course, but they were just happy that I did something. Throughout the week several students have greeted me by mimicking my face as I hit the high notes with high notes of their own, and one student walked up to me and said, "Wilson, I think, maybe, your sing is no good," - that student will fail this semester.