As I walked down the long, brightly lit hallway I heard laughter. I looked around to see what was so funny and I noticed that all these new faces and possible friends were laughing at me. I turned around and saw more kids staring. I didn’t know what to do. My eyes were starting to blur as they filled with tears. Why did it have to be like this? I wanted to be noticed, but not this way.
    I started running. I needed to get away from this humiliation, but I didn’t. Instead, I found myself falling face first on to the cold tile floor. I started crying, but the fall hadn’t hurt me. I decided I’d better get up before more kids gathered around. That’s when I saw the toilet paper that had been stuck to my shoe. I was trying so hard to fit in at my new school and something like this had to happen. I wished I could have gone back to being the scrawny little girl that no one noticed. Even that was better than this embarrassment.
    I had just moved to the big city of Cleveland, Ohio from a friendly town in Michigan. I figured that people in a big city like this had seen all sorts of different people so a five foot, ninety pound, thirteen year old girl wouldn’t be a big deal like it was back home. No one ever wanted anything to do with plain old Tiffany Williams and when someone would actually talk to me, they treated me like I was five. They probably treated me like that because that’s how I looked. Besides my size, I wasn’t allowed to wear make-up or style my hair like most girls did. My parents felt that I shouldn’t be permitted to make myself look older; there was plenty of time for that.
    I tried more than anything to forget my episode earlier that morning, but I couldn’t help but inspect my feet every time I heard a hint of laughter. When the end of the day finally arrived, I stayed in my class for a couple of minutes longer than necessary to try to avoid being in a big group of people. When I left I noticed some girls wearing shorts and T-shirts and one carrying a basketball. Then I saw another group carrying a large painting that looked like the inside of an early twentieth century house, obviously for the school play. Then, just before I walked out of the door, I heard beautiful music coming from the choir room. I had always wished I could sing like that, but I was sure I would never be able to do anything that wonderful.
    My mom had told me that everyone could do something better than anyone else in the world and, of course, I believed her because she was my mom. Now, though, I was starting to doubt her. I had tried so many different things, but I just wasn’t good at anything. I never stood out; it seemed like I just mixed in with the scenery and I was tired of it. At one point I thought that maybe I was supposed to be an honor student, but no matter how hard I tried I could not make the honor roll. Then I thought I could be an athlete. After all, size doesn’t always matter. That didn’t work either. Once I had even worked up enough courage to try out for a school play. I soon found out that I was not an actress.
    This new school was a fresh start. I could have been anyone that I wanted, but the longer I lived here the more withdrawn I became. Everyone needs to be accepted by someone, but no one had accepted me. When I realized this, I knew I couldn’t just sit there and wait for someone to try to be my friend. So the next day, when we had free time in my math class, I started talking to a girl. She had long beautiful blond hair and was only about four inches taller than me.
    "Hi Liz." I said, hoping she would start a conversation so I wouldn’t have to.
    "Hey," she said and she turned her head.
    Now I had to think of something. "It’s pretty nice out today. I think I’m going to take a walk after school."
    "Yeah, whatever," she said just before the bell rang. I had failed again.
    That night I couldn’t sleep. I sat in bed looking into the darkness and listening to the rain quietly hitting the roof. I wanted desperately to be happy but I did not know how to obtain this happiness. I thought back and remembered the beautiful music I had heard after my first day of school. That’s when I decided I was going to sing. I swore to myself that I would go see Mr. Timmons, the choir instructor, before school the next morning. Then, finally, I slept.
    I woke up bright and early the next morning and went to Mr. Timmons. He was a tall, balding man who combed his hair over his bald spot. It seemed as if he thought it made him look younger.
    "Mr. Timmons..." I said shyly. I was so nervous that I was shaking. I regretted coming here. I would never be able to do this.
    "Yes," he said.
    "Um...my name is Tiffany Williams. I know I’m not," I cleared my throat, "I’m not in your class, but I was wondering...well, I want to sing. I’m not good! I just thought maybe I could try. Um...maybe you could help me, you know, if you don’t mind, of course, sir." I stared up at him still shaking. I just knew he wouldn’t want to help me. Why would anyone want to help me?
    "Well, if you’re really interested in this, I can set up some lessons for you. Have your parents call me tomorrow during school if possible and we’ll discuss a schedule." He said this like it could be something that I could actually do.
    "Oh yes, sir! Thank you, sir! Thank you so much!" I was so excited that I practically skipped out of the room. The rest of the day I was happy. I didn’t let any of my classmates get to me. I was going to sing. So what if I wasn’t good? Maybe someday I would be. I was just happy I had a chance.
    I couldn’t wait to tell my mom, so as soon as I stepped in my door I screamed to her.
    "Mom! Mom! Come here!"
    "I’m coming honey," she called back. "What’s wrong? Is everything all right?"
    "Is everything all right? Of course everything is all right! Everything is great!"
    "That’s good, dear."
    "Mom, I went to Mr. Timmons, the choir instructor, today and I asked him to help me sing. I’m going to sing! Isn’t that great?"
    "Yes, that’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you." As she said those wonderful words she hugged me. My mom was proud of me. That made my day even better.
    "You have to call him tomorrow during school, okay?"
    "Of course I’ll call."
    This had to be the best day of my entire life.
    My lessons were going to start next week and I was very excited. I thought that I could do this and even if I couldn’t, no one would be there to laugh at me.
    The week before my lessons started felt like an eternity, but the day finally came. I walked into the cold, almost empty room extremely nervous. My palms were sweating and I couldn’t stop twirling my hair.
    "Oh, hello Tiffany. How have you been?"
    "Very good, sir, and yourself?"
    "Just fine. There’s no need to be so formal; call me Al. Are you ready to begin?"
    "Well, sure, um...if you want to start now," I said.
    "Okay, try this note. Try to match it," he said as he hit a piano key.
    I didn’t hit the note that day, in fact, it took me over two weeks to finally master that skill. Al was very patient with me, though, and
    seemed to understand that it would take time for me to relax. After I could find individual notes, we started on scales.
    The first scale I tried I probably missed half of the notes. I had been so confident from matching the piano that this really brought me down. I wanted to give up so much, but I knew I needed to follow through. My parents were so proud and every time I did something right for the first time I gained confidence. So, for weeks I worked on scales, trained my voice, and practiced longer than I had ever practiced anything before.
    Every lesson was better than the one before and, slowly, I was becoming a real singer. I was very happy with my progress and obviously Al was too.
    "Tiffany, I think you’re ready to sing in public. Your voice has improved significantly in the past month or so and you should really show it off. You have turned into one of the most talented musicians I have heard and I think you have the potential to really go places. What do you think?"
    "Well," I said thoughtfully, "I think...yeah, I’ll do it. I’m ready."
    "That-a-girl. We’ll pick out a song at your next lesson and get started right away. I’ll arrange for you to sing at the choir concert. That’ll be...let’s see," he said looking at his calendar, "three weeks from Thursday."
    Singing in public really made me nervous. I didn’t know if I would be able to do it. What if my voice wasn’t as good as Al said?
    What if I messed up and everyone laughed at me? All I could do was practice and hope for the best.
    At my next lesson we picked out "Wind Beneath my Wings" by Bette Midler. I was going to sing it after the choir was done with their show. I had three weeks to prepare and I used that time very efficiently. I practiced everyday after school and when the day came I was ready. I was still very nervous even though I knew the song better than the back of my own hand.
    I had two hours before the concert started. My stomach was turning and I could not eat. I was so scared that I would mess up and embarrass myself, but there was no way out of this.
    I showered and put on a black skirt and a light pink blouse that my mom and I had gone shopping for the week before. My mom put my hair in a tight French braid and I was ready to go.
    In the car on the way to school I sang my song at least three times just to make sure every part was right. Even though I sang it without a flaw every time, I was very anxious. As we pulled into our parking space and I saw all of the cars, my anxiety grew. I hadn’t realized that so many people would be at the concert.
    I stepped out of the car and I was shaking. We walked into the school and my mom gave me a hug.
    "Good luck, honey."
    "Thanks, mom. I’m really nervous."
    "You’ll do fine," she reassured me, "You have a great voice."
    "Okay, I’ll see you after the show."
    I walked away from her and past the crowd of people in the auditorium. Not one of them noticed me walk by even though I walked right across the stage. I went to the choir room and passed the choir students. Again, no one noticed me. They all just kept talking to their friends.
    "Hi Al," I said.
    "Hey Tiffany. Are you ready?"
    "Well, I think so. I hope so. I’m really nervous. I just know I’ll mess up."
    "You’ll do great! You’ve done so much to get here and you will succeed."
    It felt good to have someone really believe in me like Mr. Al Timmons did. He had complete faith in me since the first day we met. Without him, I would have never realized the talent I had.
    "Okay everyone! Listen up!" Al screamed over the crowd of teenagers. "Listen here! Get in order! It’s time to go on stage!"
    In about twenty minutes I would be singing, alone, to all of these people. All they would hear would be the sound of my voice. That thought gave me a chill. I walked back and forth through the room until I heard the choir start their last song. It was almost time.
    I started toward the stage and looked out at the audience. I saw my mom sitting near the front with a huge grin on her face. She must have been really proud of me. I hoped that I could give her a good show, but I was so shaky and my mouth was so dry that I didn’t know if I could even talk, let alone sing. I went to get a quick drink of water just as their song ended. The water made me feel a little better. I slowly walked back to the stage and heard Al’s announcement.
    "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Now, for a special treat, Tiffany Williams is going to sing ‘Wind Beneath my Wings’ originally done by Bette Midler. Tiffany came to me about three months ago, knowing nothing about music, asking me to give her lessons. She has come a long way since that day and here she is."
    I walked out onto the stage looking straight out at the audience. I was very tense and not paying attention to anything other than them. That’s why I didn’t notice the big black cord that I tripped over. I heard some laughter, but most of the people were adults and were more mature than that. I got up to the microphone and heard the music start. I started singing. I looked out and saw people whispering and then I looked to Al and saw that he had both hands pressed on his stomach. I knew that meant to project and sing as loud as I could without screaming. So, I closed my eyes and started singing louder. I remembered what I learned at my lessons and sang like I did there. Before I knew it, my song was over and everyone was cheering. I looked at my mom and then to Al. They were both standing and they both looked very happy with my performance. I smiled, took a bow, and walked backstage.
    "Great job, Tiffany," one girl yelled to me.
    "You have such a great voice," another boy said.
    "Wow, I didn’t know you could do that! You’re really good," said Liz from my math class.
    I was finally getting noticed for something that I wanted to be noticed for. It was the greatest feeling in the world.
    I looked to the door as my mom walked in and she had tears in her eyes.
    "You were better than I ever expected. I’m so proud of you!"
    And, for the first time ever, I was proud of myself.