By Melanie J. Knox, Opinion Editor
As I Wish
People who don’t have ACU connections don’t understand Sing Song at all. Actually, come to think of it, neither do I, but somehow get sucked into doing it every year.
I didn’t grow up coming to ACU’s Sing Song. My older cousins both went to Harding, and we went to their Spring Sing to see them. My youth minister was from Oklahoma and he took us to Oklahoma Christian’s Spring Sing. Both of these are high-energy and involve below-the-hip choreography, and I always had a great time. Ask my roommates. They’ll tell you that I still watch a video of Harding Spring Sing 2000 and can sing just about the whole thing.
The first time I came to Sing Song, I’m pretty sure I was bored out of my mind. We were way at the top of Section F, and the words were hard to catch and far away and little white hands just flashed around. The only act I actually remember enjoying was Sub-T 16. The next year, my parents took me to Sing Song again. I slept, and had my dad woke me up for Sub-T and Galaxy (Dad’s an old Moonie).
All that to say, I didn’t come to ACU with a great predisposition toward Sing Song. Had I chosen a college based on those types of productions, I would be at Harding.
Yet, somehow I have done it every year, even when I was in Oxford and had to make up lyrics and choreography and gather everyone together for our two practices. And I’ll do it next year.
For some reason, this bothers me, and I’ve been thinking about it lately. I don’t think Sing Song practice is that much fun. I mainly remember practice being hot and long. I was tired and kept wishing the lights weren’t so bright. We spend “timeless” hours learning music and choreography for a couple of minutes in the spotlight. And when you win, you don’t get a trophy and the university doesn’t throw a party. Why do we do it?
My earth-shattering conclusion is this: aside from the tradition that we automatically accept as our heritage the moment we enroll, we like to look back on it. Some memories and experiences you only get in Sing Song. For instance, the great group of girls in the alto section that I never would have gotten to know without Sing Song. I got to wear ridiculous make-up and baseball pants and that was considered normal. I saw the fun, bonding side of clubs, and experienced encouragement from the sophomore and senior classes every time we passed them on our way on or off stage.
Ridiculous as it is, that’s what makes Sing Song great. Not who wins, or even how much fun it is. Sing Song is something only we do, and even when I tell people I don’t like it, deep down, I think I’m addicted.