100 Women, 100 Stories in the Wonthaggi Union Theatre celebrated International Women's Day. Photos: Nicola Glassey
By Leslie Adams
MY MUM was a ‘young’ mum. She loved singing the pop songs of her era, she loved to dance and she loved to do those things with her children. I am the oldest, and I have two sisters and a brother, all of whom have lovely singing voices.
I vividly remember us dancing and singing with our mum on, I think, Sunday afternoons while watching Australian Bandstand. We loved it and we developed a fine repertoire of 60s pop songs, most of which I can still roll out today.
MY MUM was a ‘young’ mum. She loved singing the pop songs of her era, she loved to dance and she loved to do those things with her children. I am the oldest, and I have two sisters and a brother, all of whom have lovely singing voices.
I vividly remember us dancing and singing with our mum on, I think, Sunday afternoons while watching Australian Bandstand. We loved it and we developed a fine repertoire of 60s pop songs, most of which I can still roll out today.
Fast forward to my early high school days where my love of singing and dancing continued to grow and joining the school choir seemed a natural thing to do. Until, at one of the rehearsals, the teacher conducting us signaled for silence. Into that silence, from my position in the second last row I heard my name booming across the stage: “LESLIE ADAMS! If you must sing, at least sing quietly!” I don’t think I need to explain what happened in my young brain at that point. What I can say is that whilst she did not diminish my love of singing, I never again got up to sing in public. I heard her message loud and clear – my voice was not good.
I read about the Bass Coast Shire’s 2025 International Women’s Day event 100 Women, 100 Stories on a poster at Mitchell House. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I googled it. The House that Dan Built – not Dan Andrews, but Danielle O’Keefe – conductor, composer and arts facilitator. The more I read, the bigger grew the bubble of excitement inside me – I really, really wanted to do it. And I really, really wanted my sister to do it with me. No matter how much I read, I never, ever saw the dreaded word – AUDITION. No one had to know that I can’t sing. I would be surrounded by 99 others who would carry me with them; what a perfect way to celebrate IWD. I signed us up and we got in!
I went to the info session a couple of weeks later and discovered that it didn’t matter what our level of expertise or (in)experience we would be safe. Danielle promised that by the Sunday afternoon concert, as we started our first song, all would be well. After a variety of emails from community liaison person extraordinaire Jenny C, conversations with my hesitant then excited sister, Friday 14th March arrived. At 5pm, I was one of around a 100 women who converged on the Wonthaggi Union Theatre. Chit chat? Introductions? Logistics? Sure, but we were working from that very first meeting, and I loved it.
The rest of that weekend is a bit of a blur. I don’t read music, so, ummm? OK - soprano mezzo or alto? What does that even mean? Well for me, an alto 2 – it means that my voice has a name, and my songbird sister’s a mezzo. We soon learnt that we were in the hands of passionate, gifted artists. I felt held. And though I didn’t learn to read music, I did learn when to turn the page of the score. Every time I did it at the same time of others, I felt a little surge of triumph.
So (quite) a few decades on from my last attempt at choraling, there I was, up on the stage at the Wonthaggi Union Theatre, about to launch into this pop-up choir’s first number. As we called each other across the stage in a song called Finding You … that’s exactly what happened.
I read about the Bass Coast Shire’s 2025 International Women’s Day event 100 Women, 100 Stories on a poster at Mitchell House. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I googled it. The House that Dan Built – not Dan Andrews, but Danielle O’Keefe – conductor, composer and arts facilitator. The more I read, the bigger grew the bubble of excitement inside me – I really, really wanted to do it. And I really, really wanted my sister to do it with me. No matter how much I read, I never, ever saw the dreaded word – AUDITION. No one had to know that I can’t sing. I would be surrounded by 99 others who would carry me with them; what a perfect way to celebrate IWD. I signed us up and we got in!
I went to the info session a couple of weeks later and discovered that it didn’t matter what our level of expertise or (in)experience we would be safe. Danielle promised that by the Sunday afternoon concert, as we started our first song, all would be well. After a variety of emails from community liaison person extraordinaire Jenny C, conversations with my hesitant then excited sister, Friday 14th March arrived. At 5pm, I was one of around a 100 women who converged on the Wonthaggi Union Theatre. Chit chat? Introductions? Logistics? Sure, but we were working from that very first meeting, and I loved it.
The rest of that weekend is a bit of a blur. I don’t read music, so, ummm? OK - soprano mezzo or alto? What does that even mean? Well for me, an alto 2 – it means that my voice has a name, and my songbird sister’s a mezzo. We soon learnt that we were in the hands of passionate, gifted artists. I felt held. And though I didn’t learn to read music, I did learn when to turn the page of the score. Every time I did it at the same time of others, I felt a little surge of triumph.
So (quite) a few decades on from my last attempt at choraling, there I was, up on the stage at the Wonthaggi Union Theatre, about to launch into this pop-up choir’s first number. As we called each other across the stage in a song called Finding You … that’s exactly what happened.
