I think that superstar doctor and radiologist that you are is far better than a popstar anyway.

Precisely! It would not have done their self-esteem/self-worth/self-acceptance/self-confidence any harm to be let know that they were not talented singers. Not everybody can be. There is probably something that they are good at…but no amount of blind belief or lack of insight is going to make them successful recording artists. And they could be missing out on success in some other field by pursuing a completely dead end. As Angela said, opinions do differ on what constitutes a good idea or talent and some people have become successful only after ignoring early criticisms…however the relentless praise that a lot of the auditionees seem to have experienced really doesn’t seem to have helped them and instead gives us the great hysterical sobbing scenes when their whole world appears to fall apart.

I would love to be an international pop star. I really would. I have come to accept that it is not realistic though and that my talents lie elsewhere. And I accept myself and value myself as a person despite my lack of singing talent. Except when I’m drunkenly singing karaoke. Then I’m BRILLIANT. 😉

Everyone is, of course, entitled to their own opinion but that doesn’t necessarily make it right and if we all took notice of external influences then we may all give up at the first hurdle.

I think that people who are strongly internally referenced tend to be the successful ones whereas those who believe other people’s opinions tend to be the ones who crawl away under their stone and under-achieve. Maybe realism is, in some instances, over-rated!!

I am not attempting to thwart people making valiant attempts to do well for themselves and I would never deny anyone wanting to express themselves in any way they wish… Heck, I am a therapist essentially.

I do reckon though, that there is a level of self-deception that seems unhelpful… I watched and listened to a young lady catterwalling in one show, creating a sound that is never going to be vogue, in my opinion… Yet when she was given a unanymous set of ‘no’ responses from the judges, she argued in disbelief and suggested that they would be sorry for passing her up…

The show is essentially a competition. They are there to compete… Not just participate to share some joyous experience… They can do that at their own amateur dramatics societies or local choirs et al.

Perhaps though, that energy could have been spent more wisely developing a realism and depth of self-awareness that could have led her (my previously mentioned catterwaller) into a more fruitful direction…

I am not making a universal claim that it is undeniably a case of unnecessary over-confidence with 100% of these individuals, by the way.

Marty, Gráinne… Love the contributions, thank you 🙂

Regarding the confidence, thought this was interesting:
http://www.centreforconfidence.co.uk/pp/overview.php?p=c2lkPTYmdGlkPTAmaWQ9MTcw
It would be lovely to strike a happy medium between being overly careful with how children are approached (my sister is a speech and language therapist and isn’t allowed say “good boy” or “good girl” when a child does a task well in case they believe that being good is dependent on speaking well. She has to say “good talking!!!!” which it’s impossible to say without a twang.) and potentially instilling feelings of worthlessness by pushing too hard for performance (I still remember getting 9/10 once in a spelling test when I was 7.) I’d have to do a lot more reading and thinking before trying to add a properly useful comment here.

I think most people must love the auditions the most for those shows. It’s the complete lack of insight. I love it! The incredulity on their faces is priceless! But it’s also quite sad in a way…these people have been told they’re fabulous all the time and it takes looking idiotic in front of millions of people for them to realise the truth…if they ever do. If somebody could just have told them that singing wasn’t one of their talents, they could be saved the humiliation. But we’d have nothing to watch 🙂

I’m a writer and, way back in the temporal distance, I was an actor of sorts. A theatre studies degree student to be precise. I needed confidence to be able to stand in front of an audience and act. In the second year, we had to do an outside theatre project. We had to perform what many would call “the maddest script ever” at Bangor train station. Basically, we were all playing “odd” characters and we had to interact with the audience as if we weren’t performing and as if they weren’t watching a play. I vividly remember the moment that I had to interact with the audience in character. The only people on the station platform were two gorgeous women. And what did I have to say to them to make sure I didn’t fail this exam performance? “I remember you from Vietnam. You were fatter and had ginger hair!”

Things went from “interesting” to “dodgy” during that performance, especially when the local police turned up to investigate. Soon, many of us were facing a choice between passing our degrees but getting arrested in the process or failing and running for the hills. I’ve done a lot of acting over the years and had a solo in an amateur production of a musical (I can sing but I’m not going anywhere near The X Factor) but my proudest moment was performing on the professional stage in Wales. I had forty-five minutes worth of a play to learn and a two-page monologue to memorise and perform. The performances went down a storm and I was even approached on the street to be told how good I’d been in the play.

All of this success could easily have gone to my head and I’d be lying if I didn’t feel good about myself because of what was happening. But I kept asking myself the question: who really made that play great? I was part of a living, breathing machine. Without my fellow actors, behind the scenes people and the directors, I would have been nothing. The team made it a success and I was proud to stand with them in that moment. If I was excellent in my performance, they were all equally so.

I’m one of the founders of Bangor English Dramatics Society and the society is still going strong today. I was co-founding President for a year but I didn’t make it a success on my own. The people who stayed late at night to design and photocopy the posters and programs made it a success. The people who added their ideas to the mix made it work. The people who spent their weekends building the set made it all gel together. One man can have his moment in the sun but a team can build something so much more.

In a way, that is the most powerful form of confidence: the confidence to join in with others. Sometimes, we can be afraid that we will lose our individuality or be overshadowed if we surrender the moment and ourselves to co-operation. But that is the best way to get the best from a challenge or a situation. What’s the point of succeeding but celebrating on your own?