Right to Sing: Stories, Research & Reflection

  For most of my professional life, I’ve been in and around singing—on stage, in the studio, in rehearsal rooms, and now, in the messy and meaningful work of research. Over the last few years, one theme has risen again and again in my teaching, my studies, and my own story: shame . Quiet shame. Loud shame. Tiny micro-shames that accumulate over time. The shame of not sounding good enough. Of losing your voice. Of caring too much. Of being replaced. This blog is part of my ongoing work—both personal and academic—into understanding shame and objectification in the lives of singers. As a PhD researcher, I’m diving deep into the emotional worlds of professional vocalists. But this space isn’t just about research—it’s a conversation. A place to reflect, wonder, challenge, and reimagine what it means to teach and be taught in this field. What to Expect You’ll find a mix of things here: 💭 Noisy thoughts and vulnerable reflections from my own experiences 📚 Syntheses of academic rese...

“The show must go on.” It sounds noble—heroic, even. But beneath its surface lies a troubling truth: for many singers and performers, this mantra becomes a quiet instruction to ignore the body’s pleas, override vulnerability, and press forward at any cost. Most of us have done it. We’ve sung through illness, performed while barely able to speak. It’s so common that it hardly feels like a decision. The culture rewards it, our peers expect it, and our inner voice—the one shaped by training and survival—often demands it. But what happens when we stop listening to the body? What is the cost—not only physically, but existentially—of performing through pain, injury, or sickness? Disembodied Expectations Western performance culture is deeply shaped by mind-body dualism—the idea, inherited from Descartes, that the mind is superior to the body, that reason must override sensation, and that control equals strength. This framework doesn't just inform philosophy—it permeates our rehears...