Interviewer’s Note:

Speaking to Joan was an absolute pleasure. She’s just so funny in the way she’s completely honest about everything she says. You can tell she’s a woman with nothing to prove and nothing to hide. Her singing is a great example of the fact that if something is really important to you, you can always still do it. Even if the situation isn’t perfect. Even if your job doesn’t match. We don’t have to let the world stop us from doing what we love.

New York Roots

I’m grateful to be born and raised in New York City, which shaped me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. New York offered so many options, so many things to learn about. It was different from the rest of the country, had endless possibilities. What American-born child would want to be an opera singer? I did, from about age 12. I loved the music and thought I had an operatic voice, which I did eventually develop.

Growing up in New York at that time was the place to be if you wanted to be a linguist. You could learn just about any language that existed. We lived above a family of European refugees, and most people in our building were of European descent. My parents both spoke Slovak and English, which gave me an early appreciation for languages. I was a sponge. I could go to a foreign movie and come out with the accent. I picked up bits of French, German, and Italian too.

Finding My Voice

When I was 12, I was nominated to attend a school for exceptional children. I didn’t do anything special to get in. I guess you needed a certain grade point average. That school changed my entire life, particularly my internal life. It made me more confident. I was a very shy, very, very shy child. I’m still shy, but nothing like I was as a young person.

This school introduced me to people who had more advantages than I did and let me see what they were doing with their lives, which I wouldn’t have experienced in a neighborhood high school. Everyone liked me because I sang.

I practiced singing virtually every day of my life from the time I was 10 or 12 until I was in my 50s, taking time off only for illnesses and major upheavals. I loved it. Opera is so dramatic and powerful. It’ll knock you out of your seat if you let yourself partake in it emotionally. When I sang, I felt most alive. It was coming from deep in my being.

Eventually, I saw what happened to people who pursued the arts in America without connections or money, how they struggled. I gradually gave up on becoming a professional opera singer, but I never stopped singing. Later in life, I found my niche singing not opera but more popular music like show tunes. I loved singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” from the Wizard of Oz. I didn’t make any money, but it brought me joy.

Sometimes life happens. But just because you can’t do something you love as a job doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do that thing. If something brings you joy do it. You owe it to yourself.

Family Dynamics

I grew up with two parents who were mismatched as a couple. Both grew up in New York, with forbearers from Slovakia. They met in New York City, and that’s what they had in common. But that just wasn’t enough. My mother thought that because my father was an engineer and had a good job, that was fine. But it’s one small piece of the pie. It doesn’t make for the whole pie. People these days are much more serious about relationships.

My father was wonderful, but my mother was enough to scare anybody. I was the oldest and the most timid of my siblings, and the environment made me more timid than any person should ever be. I was a real little mouse.

Despite this, my father gave me invaluable support. He told me, “Joan, I don’t care who you marry, what color he is, what religion he is, what his political philosophy is, just as long as he treats you well. That’s all I’ll care about in the end.” And he was right. That’s all that really matters.

Learning Through Love

When I graduated from college, being young and foolish, I married someone charming, handsome, sexy, bright, and funny, but who had no idea what marriage was about. I found out I was an idiot about a month after marrying him. We stayed together for about two years, and while the marriage was a joke, I met many interesting, lovely people through him.

Later, I fell in love with my whole heart with J., whom I was married to for 30 years. We met at an opera workshop. We were two oddballs and it took. He was from Missouri of all places and came to New York because if you wanted to be an opera singer, there wasn’t any other place to be in the United States.

J. was 14 years older than me and had a wonderful sense of humor. He was an oddball, so out of it with everything. Once he went to the hardware store and came back limping. He said “Joan, I can’t walk right today.” When I asked him to look at his shoes, he was wearing two completely different ones, a heavy brogue and a dress shoe. I said “Why don’t you try wearing two shoes of the same pair?” He said “Oh, alright. Ok.” But that was J. He was oblivious to the world and what it expected of him.

But we were well-matched and adored each other. That’s what you need in a marriage, to adore the other person so you forgive them for everything. You just say, “Well, that’s the way he is. That’s fine.” J. was also a singer with a beautiful bass-baritone voice.

Government Service and Purpose

After college, I wanted to leave the world better than I found it. I worked for the Social Security Administration because I could relate to helping people survive their later years in America, which doesn’t do enough for older people.

Initially, I interviewed people who wanted to file for Social Security benefits, helping them navigate government bureaucracy. Many didn’t speak English well. I enjoyed helping people who had no idea what they were up against.

Throughout my government career, I held various positions. My favorite was my last one, managing a group that wrote training instructions for technical employees. I loved it because I got to be a writer, shaping the writings of the technicians who worked for me.

When I retired, I worked as a volunteer at the Walters Art Museum. I took groups of children around and explained ancient art to them. They absolutely loved it. Dealing with the art of the world is experiencing the soul of the people who created it. It was my favorite job.

Lessons and Reflections

In my life, I’ve found that one of my most important roles has been teaching others. I believe I’ve had an influence on my brother and sister, as well as others I’ve encountered along the way.

Living in Europe for 3 years with J. (who was trying to break into opera in Germany) expanded my perspective. France was my favorite place in Europe. The French are just sane. And they love everything. I think they’re much happier than Americans.

I am proud of my Slavic heritage because they’re very admirable people. Small countries downtrodden by everybody, first by the Germans and then by the Russians. The older generation of Slavs were particularly admirable because they survived all of the constant upheaval in Europe.

My hopes for my sister and brother, who both have terrible illnesses, are that they don’t suffer too much in their old age. And I’m working on writing a memoir to share more of my story.

Words of Wisdom

If I could offer any advice from my life, it would be:

Trust yourself. Trust your instincts. Don’t be “other-directed” the way most young people are. Other people aren’t you.

Do what makes you happy, but give everybody the benefit of the doubt. Everyone you meet will have different ideas about everything and you can learn from each other. As long as they’re not hurting you or anybody else, leave them alone.

Don’t take anything at face value. Many things are not what they seem.

If you’re considering marriage, don’t do it when you’re too young. A teenager doesn’t know much. Best advice I have to my former self is don’t marry when you’re 20. You’re too stupid. Hehe.

Respect your parents’ beliefs and realize they came from a different time and place. They had different fights to fight and battles to win.

I’ve never been one to take the beaten path. I’m a nonconformist at heart, something I think I inherited from my father’s independent mind. But that’s what made my life interesting, following my own way, being true to myself, and finding joy in the things that moved me deeply, like music and art.

In the end, I believe we’re each responsible for creating our own happiness. The world offers so much beauty if you’re open to experiencing it, whether through opera, languages, relationships. You just have to be true to your own nature. Even if you’re an oddball.

 

With love,

Joan