This past summer, when I was running and singing and dancing and playing with my nieces and my nephews and my brothers and my sisters and my mother and my grandmother in the Colorado Rockies, I couldn't help but think of that doctor who told me that I couldn't sing.
No verão passado quando estava a correr e a cantar e a dançar e a brincar com os meus sobrinhos e os meus irmãos e as minhas irmãs e a minha mãe e a minha avó, nos Colorado Rockies, não podia deixar de pensar naquela médica que me dissera que eu não podia cantar.