You know how you get a song in your head and can’t get rid of it? I’ve had a song in my head for days now, except this time I don’t want to get rid of it. In fact, I might set it to Continuous Play. I’d be willing to bet a great many entrepreneurs and wanna-be entrepreneurs are feeling the same way right now.
Susan Boyle took the world–and the world wide web–by storm when she sang “I Dreamed a Dream” for her audition on Britain’s Got Talent. I swear to God Simon Cowell soiled his pants the moment Susan opened her mouth. And you will too when you watch and listen to the video.
Susan Boyle Rocks the Stage on Britain’s Got Talent (YouTube Video)
Susan’s story is both inspiring and heart wrenching. And the world can’t seem to cry enough tears for the 47-year-old English woman who’s never been kissed. (I have a feeling that’s about to change.) Grown men have been said to weep upon watching the YouTube video and women are cheering loudly for the proof positive that beauty emerges from the least likely of packages.
But what of the long and apparently(?) lonely road Susan traveled to reach her moment of glory on a modern day version of Star Search? As moving as her story is, I find it deeply tragic. Tragic that she had to wait so long to tell her story. To sing her truth. To be heard. And more to the point, to profit from her art. (If Susan doesn’t get a recording contract after the dust settles–whether she wins the contest or not–the music industry is dead.)
I dearly hope we take away something more from Susan’s story than a wet hankie and a trite reflection on the hidden talents that lie within otherwise everyday, “normal” people. Then again, perhaps such reminders are necessary. The work at home mom is surely guiltier than most of the negative-self talk that eventually buries her dreams. Worse than that, once she buries her dreams the urgency to act dissolves completely. Or, if the dream remains alive and she goes so far to take steps toward making the dream real, she doesn’t believe in her dream–she doesn’t believe in herself–deeply enough to act with potency.
That’s nice, Karri, but what the hell do you mean?
I mean this: don’t you wonder how many less years Susan Boyle’s extraordinary story would have gone unnoticed had she believed in herself enough to hustle the dream? Susan said had she presented herself differently for the audition that it wouldn’t have been her. I disagree. The woman we see on stage is incongruous with the sultry, passionate persona that comes forth unbridled when she opens her mouth to sing.
Indeed, we love a story of the ugly duckling turned into a swan. But Susan was a swan all along. Had she presented what was inside her a little more on the outside, her story would have been more believable. The incongruity of her story got attention on the stage for sure. But the producers knew that would happen and wanted it to happen. Surprising audiences that way is good for ratings; it’s the foundation of reality television and it works.
Too bad she had to wait for that one moment on Britain’s Got Talent to tell her story. I would have loved to hear Susan’s story years ago. And if that meant she had to swipe on some red lipstick on don something slightly more appealing than a old maid’s house dress, would that be so bad? Would it not add potency, congruency and yes, truth to her story?
A cynic would say it all comes down to marketing. I would say it all comes down to finding your truth and then marketing it authentically. The authentic Susan Boyle is one sexy broad. Maybe now she believes it. If you don’t agree, listen to this:
Susan Boyle Sings “Cry Me a River,” Circa 1999





