The Lesson of Susan Boyle

I had seen the headline a time or two yesterday about a contestant on Simon Cowell's British version of "America's Got Talent", predictably called "Britain's Got Talent". Since it was a pop-culture story about reality television, my mind automatically pushed it away, ignored it. Feeling a bit more energetic (or perhaps inspired) this morning, I saw the headline again, and clicked.

The next seven minutes for me were transformative. I think all of us have been taught at one time or another the cliched lesson of never judging a book by it's cover. I've never learned that lesson more effectively than I did today.

Susan Boyle stepped onto the stage. By most people's standards, she's homely. Her hair would probably not be considered stylish. A bit frumpy, Susan is 47, not employed, and is not romantically involved. In fact, she admitted, she's never been kissed. She lives alone with her cat.

Her dialogue with the three British judges seemed awkward, and she was visibly nervous. As she admitted her desire to be like Elaine Paige, the "First Lady of British Musical Theatre", the audience collectively rolled their eyes. They groaned. Nobody in the live or television audience expected what came next.

The music started. Moments later she began to sing "I Dreamed a Dream" from "Les Miserables". Normally standing ovations -- when given -- are saved for the end of a performance. The stunned audience stood seconds after she started, and remained standing through her entire performance. If you haven't seen it, watch it now. It may be the most enlightening seven minutes you've had in a long time.

We never know what people have to offer. We've established superficial standards to determine others' worth. If you were moved by the performance, caught off guard like most, then you also learned that we're not always -- in fact rarely -- in touch with our true selves, nor each other.

Everyone has something to give, even those from whom we'd expect the least.

Most of us probably try for some kind of Susan Boyle in reverse -- to flaunt our strengths and hide our weaknesses. In her case, (what most would consider) her weaknesses were so evident we didn't take time to consider the gifts she had to give.

For me the lesson wasn't about Susan Boyle. It was about the rest of us. It was about what we're missing in our relationships and dealings with others because we judge too quickly, not considering the real value they hold. Are we missing some exciting unexpolored avenue in our spouses? What about our children, or co-workers, or the beaten-down fellow walking down the street? Like Susan Boyle's singing voice, everyone has a previously-hidden gift.

Today, at least, I'm committed to watching others a little more closely, judging them a little less, and waiting through the awkward dialogue to see what treasures lie hidden...