A Year of Saying Yes

A year ago, I was, quite honestly, a nervous wreck. Just a couple of weeks earlier, I’d been told that our choir was going to close — unless I took it on. I’d only joined as a singer about 18 months before, but in that short time it had become a lifeline. The idea of losing it felt like losing the one place where I truly belonged.

Finding a Community I Didn’t Know I Needed

When I moved to Gateshead in 2010, I struggled to find “my people”. I had a few local friends, but working from home meant I could go days without seeing anyone in person except my husband and son. I didn’t realise how lonely I’d become until I walked into that first rehearsal.

From the moment I arrived, people came over to introduce themselves, ask my name, make me feel welcome. It was warm, chaotic, friendly — and I felt at home in a way I hadn’t felt in years. That sense of belonging was immediate and unexpected, and it mattered more than I knew at the time.

The Ultimatum

So when the choir leader told me it was closing unless someone stepped up, it didn’t feel like a choice. It felt like a crossroads. Either I let this community disappear, or I tried — however unqualified I felt — to keep it alive.

I had no formal musical training. Not even a GCSE in music. What I did have was a decent grasp of guitar and piano, and a natural instinct for harmony — something my dad had drilled into me from childhood by getting me to harmonise with him. That was my entire “CV” for running a choir.

It didn’t feel like enough. But losing the choir felt worse.

So I said yes, on a 10-week trial.

A Crash Course in Absolutely Everything

I thought running a choir meant standing at the front and waving my arms around. That turned out to be about 5% of the job.

The rest? A wild, relentless learning curve.

In those first few months, I had to become:

• Choir Leader

• Conductor

• Arranger

• Rehearsal Planner

• Community Builder

• Administrator

• Social Media Manager

• Communications Lead

• Event Organiser

• Sound & Tech Wrangler

• Video & Content Creator

• Graphic/Poster Designer

• Problem Solver-in-Chief

• Chief Encourager

I look back now and genuinely don’t know how I got through those early weeks. I was terrified and exhausted most of the time, but I kept going because people kept turning up — trusting me, supporting me, believing in what we were building together. And things were taking off so quickly that I didn’t have time to stop and consider anything but carrying on.

What We’ve Actually Achieved in 12 Months

When I look back over the last year, it’s not the fear or the chaos I remember most — it’s what we’ve built. Not in theory, but in actual, measurable, pinch‑me achievements.

In 12 months, we have:

• Performed live 26 times — from tiny community moments to huge stages.

• Learned and performed 50 songs, many arranged from scratch to suit our voices.

• Appeared on the BBC five times, twice with Anna Foster, once on BBC Introducing, once with Matt Bailey – all on BBC Radio Newcastle – and once on BBC Look North.

• Released our first Christmas single, something I never imagined doing when I took this on.

• Reached over 780,000 views on Facebook, with videos shared far beyond our local community.

• Grown our Facebook following to 913 people, many of whom have never even been to a rehearsal but cheer us on anyway.

• Had a TikTok video go viral, proving that community choirs absolutely belong in modern spaces.

• Been invited to sing at the Sunderland Empire with The Choir of Man - an opportunity none of us expected.

• Grown the choir from 35 to 75 members, welcoming people who were looking for connection, confidence, and joy.

• Aged 10 years – measured in wrinkles, grey hairs, pounds gained and sleepless nights.

These aren’t abstract “lessons”. They’re the result of hundreds of hours of work, thousands of tiny decisions, and a room full of people who show up every week ready to give their best.

And they’re proof that saying yes — even when you’re terrified — can change everything.