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Excerpt from Mandisa

American Idol Top 10, Season 5

It was the evening of January 17, 2006, and I was on cloud nine. The premier of American Idol’s fifth season was about to air, featuring Chicago, my audition city. My friends, Chance and Jennifer, were hosting an American Idol premier party for me. They had made a fabulous feast and lit candles throughout the house, and more than twenty of my closest friends had gathered to celebrate and watch my debut. As I chattered excitedly with my friends, I felt like royalty. Chance had “crowned” me with a plastic tiara, while other friends had printed almost a hundred brown T-shirts that said, “Mandisa is my American Idol &ndash All Hail the Diva,” beneath a shining star.

The amazing thing was that none of them had even known whether I was still in the running. I already knew I’d been selected for the Top 44, but I hadn’t been able to break my silence and share the news with my friends until tonight. When I did, the room erupted in cheers. I told them I wasn’t sure if tonight’s show would include my performance, but I had a strong positive feeling about it because I had seen commercials featuring my triumphant exit from the audition room.

After dinner we moved into the family room, crowding onto the couch and filling every chair. When the American Idol theme song began, I almost pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Little Mandisa had finally found the courage to stand up, leave the house, and take a chance.

The minutes ticked by, and I kept wondering when my audition would come on. I barely noticed when the phone rang, but Chance pulled himself off the couch to answer it. A moment later I saw him signaling for my attention and felt a fleeting second of irritation. Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait? Then I realized that something was up.

“That was Kevin on the phone,” he said. “They’re watching the show in real time. You just sang.”

“So?”

“So, after you left the room, Simon said something rude about your weight.”

I felt like I’d been slapped. Tears stung my eyes, and a sob stuck in my throat. My emotions, at a high pitch all day, now plummeted into despair. I thought about walking out the door and not coming back. Instead, I took a deep breath, thanked Chance for the warning, and rejoined the group. My friends barely noticed my return; they were so focused on the show. And then, there was my face filling the screen.

After just a few lines of my song, the judges stopped me. Paula, Randy, and Simon all said nice things and then announced they were sending me through to Hollywood. The camera zoomed in on my beaming face, and then showed me leaving the room in a joyous fit.

My friends exploded into cheers and applause as I tried to keep my chin from quivering. That day had been so good. Why had Simon gone and ruined it?

Only a few were still watching the screen when the camera zoomed back in on Simon, but those who saw my face quickly turned their attention back to the television. Before a national television audience, Simon looked at Paula and asked, “Are we going to get a bigger stage this year?”

Paula slapped him good-naturedly and said I reminded her of Frenchie Davis, a contestant from a previous season. Simon grinned and retorted, “She’s more like France.”

I tried to smile when the friends who’d heard Simon turned to look at me. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’m okay.”

Dead silence overtook the room. I looked down, not knowing how to react. I’d gone from my life’s highest moment to one of its lowest.

One friend broke the silence. “Simon’s a jerk,” he said, and immediately others came to embrace me. I accepted the sympathy, but I really just wanted to disappear. We watched the rest of the show, but the gathering now felt more like a funeral wake than a party. Those “All Hail the Diva”” T-shirts, scattered throughout the room, seemed to mock me.

But little did I know that Simon’s words would turn out to be a blessing in disguise. I now believe that if Simon had been uncharacteristically kind and never mentioned my obvious weight problem, I would never have been able to touch so many lives.

Make no mistake: Simon’s words hurt me deeply. I cried myself to sleep that night. But as I wept, I realized what I had to do. The people on the receiving end of Simon’s comments don’t usually make it to Hollywood, so he never has to face them again. In my case, I made it to Hollywood, and once there, I knew that at the risk of not being put through to the Final 24, I had to be the voice of so many people who had been hurt by Simon and weren’t able to tell him what his words had done to them. And I knew that I also had to be the voice for so many women who have been held back and told they weren’t beautiful because of their weight.

I made it through every round during Hollywood Week, and when the day arrived that the Final 24 would be chosen, my childhood dream of becoming a world-class singer was within my grasp. But this was also my chance to share my truth with Simon. I knew the outcome could go either way, but I also knew that being true to myself was even more important to me than the possibility of becoming the next American Idol.

I heard my name called and, like a warrior marching to battle, I entered the elevator. And as the elevator doors opened, I started walking down the long stretch we called “The Green Mile” to the lone chair opposite the three judges. I sat down, looked Simon squarely in the eye, and began.

“Simon,” I said, “a lot of people want me to say a lot of things to you right now, but this is what I want to say. I want you to know that you hurt me. I cried, and it was very emotional for me. But the good thing about forgiveness is that you don’t need someone to apologize in order to forgive them. So, Simon, I want you to know that I have forgiven you, because if Jesus could forgive me for all the things I’ve done wrong, I can certainly extend that same grace to you.”

As I delivered my message, Simon’s grin disappeared. Although I didn’t take my gaze off Simon, from the corner of my eye I could see Randy raise his brows and Paula break into a smile as bright as the lights overhead.

In the silence that followed, Simon uncrossed his arms and hung his head. “Well, I feel about this big,” he said, holding two fingers about an inch apart. “Mandisa, I’m humbled. Come here and give me a kiss.”

I can’t tell you how many women have shared what it meant to them that I refused to swallow his comments and just go on as if his words had never been spoken &ndash and then forgave him as well. I just felt that if I didn’t speak my truth, then his truth would have been the final word &ndash and once again another woman who struggles with her weight would retreat with her head hanging and her heart broken. But I’ve always been a fighter, and my purpose in life is to shine through my integrity as well as my voice. I knew that I had to stand up for all women who struggle with their image, period.

I needed to say those words to Simon for me, but by doing so, I also hoped to help change the image of true beauty for all the young girls in our society. The possibility of realizing that goal made it worth the risk. And it continues to be worth it over and over again.

Last December, I was invited to tobyMac’s Winter Wonder Slam Concert in Nashville. I was sitting in the audience when a mom and her two little girls came up to me. The precious girls, who I guess were about ten, stared at me with big brown eyes and nearly blinding smiles. Moved by their awe, I gave them each big hugs and signed the tickets they held in trembling, outstretched hands. Then one of the girls got up the courage to speak. She looked at me and proclaimed in a high-pitched voice, “You are sooooo beautiful!”

As I looked deeply into that young girl’s eyes, I knew that I had changed her perception of beauty, and I hoped I had made the rest of her life a little easier for it.

As they turned to go, the mom stopped and whispered in my ear, “You have no idea what it means to me to have a role model like you &ndash a woman who is not only beautiful, confident, and honest, but who also loves the Lord. Thank you for giving my girls someone in this crazy world that they can really look up to.”

As they walked back to their seats, a huge smile took over my face, and I thought to myself, That, and the Top 10, too.

(Reprinted with permission from Chicken Soup for the American Idol Soul: Stories from the Idols and their Fans that Open Your Heart and Make Your Soul Sing).

(Note to iSnare Editor: Our client Debra Poneman is author of the book Chicken Soup for the American Idol Soul. The book contains first person accounts of the hit TV show from contestants, fans and behind the scenes crew members. The piece above is from one of the contestants, Mandisa. We have Debra’s permission to offer these excerpts from her book to iSnare. If you have any questions, please contact me at penny at amarketingexpert dot com.)

Excerpt from Mandisa

American God Top 10, Season 5

It was the evening of Jan 17, 2006, and I was on cloud nine. The premier of American God’s fifth season was approximately to air, featuring Chicago, my audition megalopolis. My friends, Chance and Jennifer, were hosting an American God premier affair for me. They had fabricated a fabulous feast and lit candles throughout the home, and added than twenty of my next friends had gathered to celebrate and analog watch my debut. As I chattered excitedly with my friends, I felt love royalty. Chance had “crowned” me with a plastic tiara, while other friends had printed nearly a hundred brown T-shirts that said, “Mandisa is my American God &ndash All Hail the Diva,” below a shining star.

The astonishing object was that none of them had much accepted if I was even in the running. I already knew I’d been selected for the Top 44, however I hadn’t been able to breach my silence and hand the account with my friends until tonight. When I did, the space erupted in cheers. I told them I wasn’t certain provided tonight’s exhibit would comprehend my performance, however I had a able absolute activity approximately it as I had seen commercials featuring my triumphant exit from the audition space.

After dinner we moved into the family space, crowding onto the sofa and filling every chair. When the American God topic song began, I nearly pinched myself to accomplish certain I wasn’t dreaming. Small Mandisa had finally begin the courage to stand up, allowance the home, and booty a chance.

The minutes ticked by, and I kept wondering when my audition would come on. I barely noticed when the telephone rang, however Chance pulled himself off the sofa to reply it. A second subsequent I saying him signaling for my care and felt a fleeting moment of irritation. Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait? Then I realized that something was up.

“That was Kevin on the telephone,” he said. “They’re watching the exhibit in absolute age. You aloof sang.”

“So?”

“So, after you left the space, Simon said something impolite approximately your weight.”

I felt love I’d been slapped. Tears stung my eyes, and a sob stuck in my throat. My emotions, at a aerial pitch all time, immediately plummeted into hopelessness. I idea approximately walking outside the door and not future back. Instead, I took a abysmal breath, thanked Chance for the warning, and rejoined the accumulation. My friends barely noticed my give back; they were so focused on the exhibit. And then, there was my face filling the screen.

After aloof a hardly any lines of my song, the judges stopped me. Paula, Randy, and Simon all said pretty matters and then announced they were sending me buttoned up to Hollywood. The camera zoomed in on my beaming face, and then showed me leaving the space in a joyous fit.

My friends exploded into cheers and applause as I tried to accumulate my chin from quivering. That time had been so acceptable. Why had Simon out and ruined it?

Alone a hardly any were even watching the screen when the camera zoomed back in on Simon, however those who saying my face quickly turned their care back to the television. Before a state television audience, Simon looked at Paula and asked, “Are we going to receive a better page this year?”

Paula slapped him good-naturedly and said I reminded her of Frenchie Davis, a contestant from a preceding season. Simon grinned and retorted, “She’s added love France.”

I tried to smile when the friends who’d heard Simon turned to attending at me. “It’s okay,” I said, my articulation shaking. “I’m okay.”

Dead silence overtook the space. I looked down, not alive how to respond. I’d out from my activity’s highest second to one of its lowest.

One acquaintance broke the silence. “Simon’s a ass,” he said, and now others came to hold me. I general the sympathy, however I actually aloof wanted to vanish. We watched remainder of the exhibit, however the company immediately felt added love a funeral wake than a affair. Those “All Hail the Diva”” T-shirts, scattered throughout the space, seemed to mock me.

However small did I understand that Simon’s text would turn outside to be a blessing in disguise. I immediately accept that provided Simon had been uncharacteristically affectionate and never mentioned my transparent weight botheration, I would never accept been able to touch so abounding lives.

Accomplish no error: Simon’s text aching me deeply. I cried myself to sleep that after dark. However as I wept, I realized what I had to accomplish. The bodies on the receiving point of Simon’s comments don’t normally accomplish it to Hollywood, so he never has to face them again. In my position, I fabricated it to Hollywood, and once there, I knew that at the risk of not life lay buttoned up to the Final 24, I had to be the articulation of so abounding bodies who had been aching by Simon and weren’t able to impart him what his text had done to them. And I knew that I again had to be the articulation for so abounding women who accept been held back and told they weren’t pretty as of their weight.

I fabricated it buttoned up every round during Hollywood Week, and when the time arrived that the Final 24 would be chosen, my childhood air castle of fitting a world-class singer was within my grasp. However this was again my chance to hand my accuracy with Simon. I knew the outcome could activity either action, however I again knew that life accurate to myself was much added valuable to me than the opportunity of fitting the abutting American God.

I heard my designation called and, love a battler marching to battle, I entered the elevator. And as the elevator doors opened, I started walking down the continued stretch we called “The Blooming Mile” to the lone chair adverse the three judges. I sat down, looked Simon squarely in the eye, and began.

“Simon,” I said, “a abundance of bodies desire me to affirm a abundance of matters to you appropriate immediately, however this is what I desire to affirm. I desire you to understand that you aching me. I cried, and it was too emotional for me. However the acceptable object approximately forgiveness is that you don’t charge someone to apologize in course to forgive them. So, Simon, I desire you to understand that I accept forgiven you, as provided Jesus could forgive me for all the matters I’ve done amiss, I can certainly extend that identical grace to you.”

As I delivered my note, Simon’s grin disappeared. Although I didn’t booty my look off Simon, from the corner of my eye I could look Randy lift his brows and Paula breach into a smile as ablaze as the lights overhead.

In the silence that followed, Simon uncrossed his arms and hung his mind. “Able-bodied, I air approximately this ample,” he said, holding two fingers approximately an inch apart. “Mandisa, I’m humbled. Come here and accord me a peck.”

I can’t impart you how abounding women accept shared what it meant to them that I refused to swallow his comments and aloof activity on as provided his text had never been spoken &ndash and then forgave him too. I aloof felt that provided I didn’t say my accuracy, then his accuracy would accept been the final chat &ndash and once again another woman who struggles with her weight would retreat with her mind hanging and her passion broken. However I’ve always been a fighter, and my mind in activity is to light buttoned up my candor too as my articulation. I knew that I had to stand up for all women who attempt with their angel, space.

I needed to affirm those text to Simon for me, however by doing so, I again hoped to advice chicken feed the angel of accurate loveliness for all the adolescent girls in our country. The opportunity of realizing that ambition fabricated it price the risk. And it continues to be price it over and over again.

At the end Dec, I was invited to tobyMac’s Winter Admiration Slam Concert in Nashville. I was sitting in the audience when a mom and her two small girls came up to me. The precious girls, who I guess were approximately ten, stared at me with ample brown eyes and almost blinding smiles. Moved by their awe, I gave them each ample hugs and signed the tickets they held in trembling, outstretched hands. Then one of the girls got up the courage to say. She looked at me and proclaimed in a high-pitched articulation, “You are sooooo pretty!”

As I looked deeply into that adolescent babe’s eyes, I knew that I had changed her insight of loveliness, and I hoped I had fabricated remainder of her activity a small easier for it.

As they turned to activity, the mom stopped and whispered in my ear, “You accept no abstraction what it method to me to accept a role imitation love you &ndash a woman who is not alone pretty, sure, and above board, however who again loves the Lord. Thank you for giving my girls someone in this ape apple that they can actually attending up to.”

As they walked back to their seats, a vast smile took over my face, and I idea to myself, That, and the Top 10, also.

(Reprinted with permission from Chicken Soup for the American God Soul: Stories from the Idols and their Fans that Direct Your Passion and Accomplish Your Soul Sing).

(Notice to iSnare Editor: Our client Debra Poneman is author of the textbook Chicken Soup for the American God Soul. The textbook contains aboriginal man accounts of the hit TV exhibit from contestants, fans and last the scenes crew members. The lot above is from one of the contestants, Mandisa. We accept Debra’s permission to action these excerpts from her textbook to iSnare. Provided you accept any questions, please contact me at penny at amarketingexpert spot com.)

The Chicken Soup For The Soul series has been a runaway accomplishment in the textbook apple, over 100 million copies accept been sold worldwide. They accept been translated into aloof approximately every speech however Klingon! When you combine this with American God, a TV exhibit that garners 60 million viewers an page, and 7 seasons under its girdle you accept what must be a certain blaze accomplishment.

The formula last Chicken Soup is deceptively child’s play, short two or three sheet absolute stories that are uplifting, and generally care overcoming some adversity. This format appeals to readers and non-readers similar. Abounding bodies are scared of tackling a 300 sheet textbook, however everyone can drive a couple of pages.

Chicken A La American God features vignettes from performers, backstage staff and much fans of the exhibit.

I accept to accomplish a confession at this mark. I am possible the alone man in North America, possibly much the developed apple that has never indeed watched American God! My full sum of experience approximately it was gleaned from overheard conversations between co-workers encircling the coffee pot. This was not an obstacle to enjoying the textbook though. The stories stand by themselves, you accomplish not charge to accept the exhibit to love them.

It is dense to pick a favourite adventure, distinct stood outside in my apperception. Mandisa was a contestant that fabricated it to the top 10 finalist file in season 5. Mandisa is overjoyed to to accept fabricated it buttoned up the audition page, and her performance is so acceptable that the producers vote to comprehend it in one of the TV episodes. She is gathered with her friends to analog watch the abundant fact air. Her apple is destroyed when what is indeed shown on TV includes a snide say from adjudicator Simon Cowell approximately her weight. “Are we going to receive a better page this year?” he inquires of co-judge Paula Abdul.

Mandisa is crushed. However she gets her revenge. In what could accept been a life ending act, when abutting she meets Mr. Cowell under the glare of the lights and scrutiny of the cameras rolling she does what I am certain abounding contestants that accept been on the receiving point of Simon’s barbed remarks would cherish to accomplish, she gives it to him with both barrels! A deflated Simon Cowell’s alone response is to buzz her to come and accord him a peck!

Nigel Lythgoe is the Executive Producer, and his adventure ends with the wise help that is relevant to anyone, under any fact. “So, provided you are going to air castle, air castle in Technicolour. Don’t air castle in atramentous and achromatic.” How accurate he is.

Abounding of the stories though accept small to accomplish with the actual exhibit, the exhibit is merely the catalyst. There are rags to riches stories, and abounding of the contestants accept actually shot into the highlight as a aftereffect of American God. Most though accept not forgotten their apprehensive beginnings, if it be a farm in Iowa, or growing up in ‘the projects’ of some urban sprawl. And abounding accept ‘accustomed back’ in some action, from affair adolescent cancer patients buttoned up the ‘Accomplish A Ambition’ foundation, to help concerts, they accept done it all.

This is a abundant textbook, and one that much I, an admitted American God new can glance at and love.

The Chicken Soup For The Soul series has been a runaway success in the book world, over 100 million copies have been sold worldwide. They have been translated into just about every language but Klingon! When you combine this with American Idol, a TV show that garners 60 million viewers an episode, and 7 seasons under its belt you have what must be a sure fire success.

The formula behind Chicken Soup is deceptively simple, short two or three page real stories that are uplifting, and often concern overcoming some adversity. This format appeals to readers and non-readers alike. Many people are scared of tackling a 300 page book, but everyone can manage a couple of pages.

Chicken A La American Idol features vignettes from performers, backstage staff and even fans of the show.

I have to make a confession at this point. I am likely the only person in North America, maybe even the developed world that has never actually watched American Idol! My entire sum of knowledge about it was gleaned from overheard conversations between co-workers around the coffee pot. This was not an impediment to enjoying the book though. The stories stand by themselves, you do not need to understand the show to enjoy them.

It is hard to pick a favorite story, several stood out in my mind. Mandisa was a contestant that made it to the top 10 finalist list in season 5. Mandisa is overjoyed to to have made it through the audition phase, and her performance is so good that the producers opt to include it in one of the TV episodes. She is gathered with her friends to watch the great event air. Her world is destroyed when what is actually shown on TV includes a snide remark from judge Simon Cowell about her weight. “Are we going to get a bigger stage this year?” he inquires of co-judge Paula Abdul.

Mandisa is crushed. But she gets her revenge. In what could have been a career ending move, when next she meets Mr. Cowell under the glare of the lights and scrutiny of the cameras rolling she does what I am sure many contestants that have been on the receiving end of Simon’s barbed remarks would love to do, she gives it to him with both barrels! A deflated Simon Cowell’s only response is to ask her to come and give him a kiss!

Nigel Lythgoe is the Executive Producer, and his story ends with the sage advice that is applicable to anyone, under any circumstance. “So, if you are going to dream, dream in Technicolor. Don’t dream in black and white.” How true he is.

Many of the stories though have little to do with the actual show, the show is merely the catalyst. There are rags to riches stories, and many of the contestants have indeed shot into the spotlight as a result of American Idol. Most though have not forgotten their humble beginnings, whether it be a farm in Iowa, or growing up in ‘the projects’ of some urban sprawl. And many have ‘given back’ in some way, from meeting young cancer patients through the ‘Make A Wish’ foundation, to benefit concerts, they have done it all.

This is a great book, and one that even I, an admitted American Idol virgin can read and enjoy.