A Letter to Ani DiFranco
From my former and present self.
Dear Ani,
In 1994 I went to college and I started drinking a lot, eating a lot, smoking a lot (cigarettes and pot) and having sex a lot. I felt free and also I felt aimless. I knew I wasn’t the good Chinese girl my parents raised me to be, and I was being reckless. It felt bad, but it felt better than doing what was expected of me.
Sophomore year I was put on Academic Probation, mostly because I kept dropping out of classes that I was in danger of failing and lacked the credits to continue. I was a failure — or at least I felt like a failure — and I didn’t want to fail. So I doubled up on my classes, stopped smoking the drugs, and tried to do whatever the opposite of failing is.
A class I took that year was Women’s Studies 101. My professor was visiting. All the female students had crushes on her. I didn’t, but I was romantically curious about one student, who people said looked like you. I didn’t know who you were, but when an extra ticket to see you play Irving Plaza became available, I got in a car with mostly strangers to go.
You sang “Untouchable Face” which I believe hadn’t been released yet?! So everyone was totally silent. Nobody was singing along, we were all just listening. I had never felt so present. It was electric.
I may be remembering all this wrong. It was almost three decades ago.
By the end of sophomore year, I had all of your albums, an A- average in all my classes, and I had declared Women’s Studies as a part of my double major.
By the time I graduated, I shifted my tastes into hip-hop music and my bi-sexual-curiosity never came to fruition. I started dating the person I’m now married to. I remembered hearing you had married a man and people were pissed. The internet was still young, so I had trouble figuring out what was happening, or whether you even cared. It made me feel less guilty for not being a capital “F” Feminist.
Recently I heard you’re making your Broadway debut. Several people sent me this article link, because I’m still very vocal about how important you are to me. Nobody’s music has directly impacted my life more than yours.
I don’t think I could’ve overcome that academic probation year without your songs, which still run through my head every time I need to find some way to trust myself. They were with me when I overcame my eating disorder, when I decided to play a lesbian in my feature film debut, when I struggled with infertility for a decade. And last night when I was experiencing some mild middle-aged depression — I sang three of your songs on Apple Karaoke and immediately felt better.
I love that even today in 2024 you’re an example of reinventing yourself. You continue to awe and inspire. Congratulations. And thank you.
I write more about why I paywall my posts here.
A beautiful and vulnerable letter, and a reminder that we often grow alongside our heroes and mentors.
Love this - I bought my husband her latest album (nearly said record because it is exactly what I purchased for a sleek turntable he cherishes); he introduced me to Ani when we met. While I love her lyrical poetry, I love what she represents to my husband who can recite her songs and made sure to catch her concerts in countries all over the world.