SHE DREAMED A DREAM

The year was 2009. The month was January. The date was the 21^st.

“I will never forget it,” Susan exclaims in her unmistakable Celtic brogue.

It was the day that the shy, devout 48-year-old stepped onto the stage of the Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre in Glasgow to audition on “Britain’s Got Talent.” It was the day that the world stood on its head for her. It was a day that neither the panel of three judges, nor she could have foreseen. It was the defining moment of her life.

During three-and-a-half minutes of television airtime, Susan Boyle was ushered into the international limelight. Miss Boyle described it this way.

“All I did was to apply for a talent show. I was lucky enough to be chosen. That’s it in a nutshell.”

However, something deeper was going on in the collective public consciousness. If the two watchwords of the 21st century have been “reality” and “celebrity,” Susan Boyle registered a new point on the graph where both these variables intersected. One of Britain’s most forgettable characters have rarely, if ever, become so memorable.

In her one audition for “Britain’s Got Talent,” in which she amazed the judges, the audience and anyone with access to YouTube by dazzling her way through a version of the song, “I Dreamed A Dream,” from the musical Les Miserables, a tornado of opinionated column inches, speculation, rumination and conjecture around Susan Boyle grew feverishly.

300 million YouTube hits and counting. She became the subject of op-ed newspaper columns, a front cover sensation in her own right. This unlikely candidate for the melting pot of the new star machine in 21st century Britain caused computer crashes, miles of newsprint and the sophisticated approval of Hollywood’s well-heeled and super-groomed A-list. Though the content differed wildly, everyone proffering their thoughts on the self-confessed “wee wifey” seemed agreed on one point. That in 2009, to be free of an opinion on Susan Boyle was to be free of opinion itself.

For one brief moment, vanity itself collapsed. As that ancient old maxim, “never judge a book by its cover,” clanked around the globe with speedy viral intensity, it was as if the world was about to offer its first unspoken apology for prizing beauty above all else. Perhaps Susan Boyle was just a fleeting icon by which a microscope was shone on our more fickle presumptions.

In some ways, Ms. Boyle’s story is just the same as any woman with a voice in any choir up and down the United Kingdom. In her home town of Blackburn, she had been schooled in singing in churches and choral societies. As a historically shy young woman with a learning difficulty, Susan admits having remained hidden in a collective singing arrangement offered her comfort.

So in one other, crucial way, her story is entirely her own. Ultimately, the most unlikely chorister in the sea of voices stepped out of line and peeked above the proverbial parapet and could not help but be noticed. For Susan Boyle, though she would never say so much herself, this was an act of personal heroism, the like of which she had never considered.

No one could have been more surprised than Susan.

“It started off with the Scottish newspaper, “Daily Record” visiting my door. It ended up with TV stations from all over the world camping out on my street waiting for interviews and stories. I’d peak behind the curtains in the house, saying ‘what in God’s name is going on here?’ Then the phone calls started. My number was still in the book at that particular time, so anybody could get it and the phone was ringing 24 hours a day. It was constant. People were ringing me who I couldn’t understand because of their accents. All sorts of nationalities. Lots of Americans. It was absolutely unbelievable.”

She is self-deprecating about why she should have caused such a furor.

 “A woman who went on with mad hair, bushy eyebrows, and the frock I was wearing had to be noticed. Come on!”

Ms. Boyle’s debut album was put together during the summer of this year. She first entered a recording studio in July in Edinburgh, to test how her vocals would respond to tape. The results shocked both her and veteran producer Steve Mac. Camping out in London, she fashioned the record over two months, picking songs that resonated with her, that pricked something within that she felt ready to unleash through music.

“It was important that I could feel everything I was singing,” she says, cutting straight to the core of why music can be such a useful release, an escape valve from the everyday life.

A disarming mix of the sacred, “My faith is my backbone,” she says, and the secular, there is not a moment on it that is not moving. It is pitched exactly within the framework of the year she has enjoyed and, at well-documented times, endured.

When she dreams, we dream too. Because of her uncanny knack of picking a song so perfect for her tale at that very first audition, Ms. Boyle has become synonymous with the word “dream.” Her flawless album rendition of “I Dreamed a Dream” may come as no surprise, but it still manages to pick every individual hair from the back of your neck and cause them to stand to attention.

For this is Susan Boyle’s tale. The fearlessness to dream about something other than the lot life has handed you. The chance to escape. The pivotal role of music as a conduit to go to another place, sometimes lodged at the outer recesses of your imagination, and to allow that new place to blossom. Yes, this is Susan Boyle’s tale. It is why it connected with so many unsuspecting people across the world. In a nutshell, if she can dare to dream, so can you.

Susan’s debut album, “I Dreamed a Dream” was the most pre-ordered album worldwide of all time at Amazon before its global release in November.

In her stage debut on “Britain’s Got Talent,” and immediately prior to wowing the world with her heretofore hidden talent, when interviewed by Simon Cowell, he asks,

“And who would you like to be as successful as?”

To which the overweight, frumpy spinster, who looks a decade older than her years, responds,

“Elaine Paige.”

Of course, the eyebrows of the judges rise in unison, and as the camera pans to the audience several young women wear a look of utter consternation, and whisper among themselves.

The first sentence of the song ‘cured’ them all.

Susan was a natural. She had a song to sing, and would not be denied. (And by the way, the unlikely little spinster went on to perform on stage with her idol, Elaine Paige)!

She dreamed a dream.

Paul Flynn and William McDonald, PhD