by Carter, Nick
Dad was a total realist about life—not at all what you’d call an optimist. My father was a truck driver before he became a bar owner and nursing-home operator. (He’d met my mom on the road—he picked her up while she was hitchhiking. He charmed her by giving her a ride, but he also warned her never to do it again.)
I inherited Dad’s blue-collar work ethic and drive, and I have to say that those gifts have served me well. Still, as hard as my dad and mom worked, they struggled to pay the bills. Money was always an issue. When I first started to develop my performing skills, Dad would blow up over the cost of my singing and dance coaches, and of traveling to auditions, rehearsals and performances. He questioned whether there would ever be a payoff for the investment he and my mom were making. I could hardly blame him. He had other kids and a lot of expenses.
One of the incentives for me to work harder and harder was my desire to make up for those expenses. I really wanted to show my appreciation for the sacrifices and the time my parents put into my training. I also wanted to earn enough money so my parents would never have to fight over finances again. When my singing career took off, I did pay back my parents and I made up for the some of the things my siblings didn’t get, too. I even tried to help them out before I was making big money. The first singing competition I won was a talent show on the pier in St. Petersburg. I was ten years old and there was a crowd of only 20 people, but I won the grand prize of $100. I remember taking the check home to Dad; he was sitting on the couch watching television.
“Hey Dad, look what I did. This is for you. I want you to have it because you work so hard,” I said, handing him the check.
He mumbled something, then thanked me. He may have been embarrassed that I was giving him my winnings, which I understand. I didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. My only goal was to provide him and my mother with some peace of mind. My thought at the time was that if I kept giving him money, he and mom would be happier, but it never seemed to work out that way, even when the checks I brought home were for hundreds of thousands and even millions of dollars.
The lesson I ultimately learned from these experiences was that my goal should never be to make more and more money. I realized that once you covered your bills and a few other basic comforts, more money does not bring you more happiness—in fact it often brings more problems, jealousies and greed.
Instead, the thing that makes me truly happy is making the most of my talent for singing and performing. That became, and still is, my career goal.
Ours wasn’t exactly the Osmond family or even the Partridge Family, but our family tree did include other musicians. Mom and Dad both played the guitar some and we all sang when we went on vacations or when we were just hanging around the house. I’ve never had a problem keeping a beat, which may be due to living above The Yankee Rebel when I was a baby and hearing the thumping of disco music through the floorboards all night.
Anyway, it was around the time that teen pop singers and the first boy bands began making waves that I guess Mom decided if Tiffany and Debbie Gibson, New Edition, and the New Kids on the Block could make it, so could I. The next thing I knew, she had me booked for singing lessons, dancing lessons, and every other kind of lesson in the star-making machine. We burned up Interstate 4 between Tampa and Orlando as we hit all the talent competitions and auditions for theme park shows, musicals, dinner-theater, and commercials.
My theatrical career was actually launched shortly after the day Mom witnessed my backyard performance. I was in the fourth grade at Miles Elementary School when the kid who’d been chosen for a leading role as Raoul in the production of Phantom of the Opera got cold feet. The teacher in charge of the play, Miss Montes de Oca, had to find a replacement quickly. She’d heard that I was taking singing lessons and auditioning around the area, so she recruited me to step into the part.
…THE THING THAT MAKES ME TRULY HAPPY IS MAKING THE MOST OF MY TALENT FOR SINGING AND PERFORMING.
I definitely wasn’t one of the cool kids, an athlete or an honor student before then, so it was sweet to step in and take the role of Raoul, especially since the guy who had chickened out was one of the smartest kids in our school and was on student patrol too.
Being cast in the Phantom of the Opera was one of the best things to happen to me at that time. It was one of those rare moments in our family when everyone seemed to join in the fun. Even Dad rallied and got into the spirit. He went to work building the chandelier for the set, which was the centerpiece on stage. Mom worked on the play too, making costumes. They brought the other kids to rehearsals and to the design sessions, and everyone seemed to have a good time without any drinking, fighting or yelling. For a moment there, we felt like one big happy family.
PLAYING TO YOUR STRENGTHS
Even if you never made it past Introduction to Psychology 101, you can see what drew me to performing. All of us Carter kids craved parental attention and affection. Everyone seemed excited about the play and my role as the Phantom. It really brought us all together.
No matter what was happening at home, everything seemed better when I was singing. Instead of the bickering that marked so many of our days and nights, my parents were happy when I sang and so were my audiences. I was happy too. I poured all of my energy into the music because when I performed, my worries, fears, and insecurities disappeared. It was a high like nothing I’d ever experienced, and the larger my audience the better it felt.
There’s no doubt that I threw myself into singing, acting and dancing with more enthusiasm than I’d ever shown for schoolwork or sports. My mom dedicated herself to helping me chase my dream. Some have questioned her motives over the years, but I have to credit her with making sure I received the necessary training and for doing all the work required to turn my passion for performing into a career.
MY MOM DEDICATED HERSELF TO HELPING ME CHASE MY DREAM.
She supported me as I progressed through a series of coaches and trainers. At age 10, I found myself beneath the wings of Bob Karl and Sandy DiMarco, professional dancers who owned the Karl & DiMarco School of Theater & Dance in Tampa. One of the first classes I took with them was tap dancing. I was horrible at it. Bob Karl, who looked more like an old-fashioned gangster than a Julliard-trained choreographer, didn’t seem to enjoy watching me trip over my own feet either. He was nice about it most of the time, but trying to turn me into a dancer made him grumpy.
In no time at all, I found myself banished to the back row of Bob’s class. Once again, I was put with the slow learners. Maybe Bob thought it would help me to watch all the other kids in the front row get the moves right.
I did ultimately improve enough to land a spot as a performer in a troupe that was every straight boy’s wildest dream. Bob’s wife and co-owner Sandy DiMarco had a side job as the choreographer for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers’ halftime shows. Sandy put together a team of beautiful cheerleaders—and me!
Actually, the bikini-wearing, pom-pom swinging Swashbucklers were more like a cross between Victoria’s Secret models and the Rockettes. The Bucs were my favorite team, and I was also a big fan of gorgeous, scantily clad young women, so I was a very lucky boy. Don’t get me wrong, Backstreet is a great group. Kevin, A.J., Brian, and Howie are my brothers and fun to hang out with, but they don’t quite do for me what my first group did. I enjoyed every minute of the Swashbuckler experience, though not nearly as much as I would have enjoyed it if I’d been about ten years older.
This was back when Tampa’s NFL team played in the old Houlihan Stadium, which was demolished in 1999. The Buc’s creamsicle-colored uniforms from those days are still my favorites, but the teams weren’t very good. I guess that’s why they needed a big halftime show to prevent the home crowd from just going home. We did our best during every game to keep them in their seats.
Sandy surrounded me with my own special mini-group, calling us Nick and the Angels. Our routine included performing Elvis’s “Jail House Rock” and Jerry Lee Lewis’s “Great Balls of Fire.” My guess
is that 99 percent of the guys in the stands who weren’t related to me or in my grade school weren’t even aware that I was on the field with the Angels and the Swashbucklers most of the time. That didn’t bother me though.
I FELT LIKE I WAS PART OF SOMETHING SPECIAL.
Walking onto that Buc’s field for the first time with them was an incredible rush. There were thousands of people cheering every move. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time. Is scarilarating a word?
That’s when I became truly addicted to the joy of entertaining. It was so exciting. We felt like we were part of the Buc’s team and the whole organization. The girls treated me like their favorite little brother. Strangers cheered us. Kids wanted our autographs. I felt like I was part of something special. My parents and brother and sisters were all excited for me too, which made things a little better at home.
Sandy DiMarco sent me to perform with the Angels and Swashbucklers at smaller venues around town, too. Those were mostly appearances to promote the team or community events. Some of us also participated in Showstoppers regional talent competitions against other performers, where we won a lot of contests. I still have those black and blue ribbons with first and second place written on them.
As the only guy on the squad, I tended to stand out. The fans gave me a lot of attention, which boosted my self-confidence and helped me become even more comfortable in front of crowds. Not that stage fright was ever a problem for me. When I heard the applause and cheers from thousands of people, nothing else mattered in that moment.
I loved being on that field, no doubt about it. Still, there was something deeper that drove me to work harder on my singing and performing than I’d ever worked in my life. To put it as simply as I can: It felt right. It made me happy. I could spend hours and hours singing and playing the guitar. Even practicing dance routines didn’t really seem like work to me.
All the driving and running around and waiting for cattle-call auditions could be a drag, but once it was time to perform I forgot all about the hard work that went into preparing for that moment. I just dove in and within the first few notes of a song, I was in my own world. I didn’t win every role or every audition, but I felt like I was learning something and getting better. Even the directors, producers or casting agents who chose someone else often had encouraging words for me. They told me I was a quick learner with natural talent, and that I stood out from the crowd. So I quickly got the sense that my mother’s enthusiasm wasn’t just a mom thing.
In some ways I’d found an even larger and more reliable family—my musical family. I felt comfortable and welcome. I felt as if I belonged, as if I spoke the same language as other performers and musicians. Those feelings were strong—so strong that they made the bad things in my life more bearable.
THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING
It’s still that way for me today. Every time I’m on stage the crowd energizes me. I put out a lot of effort and positive energy, but even more comes back to me. I love to perform, pouring out my feelings and disappearing in the moment, whether I’m singing to a packed stadium or in a small club. I am one of those lucky people who early in life discovered a gift, a talent, and a strength that has served as a foundation for everything else in my life.
In this chapter I want to help you figure out how to generate happiness in the same way, from the inside out. I’m not referring to just a moment of happiness or a few laughs. I’m talking about building a life around whatever gift, talent or strength you have that excites you and makes you feel valued and connected to the world around you.
Once you’ve accepted that you are worthy of a better life and you have worked to identify and change the harmful behavioral patterns and self-sabotaging thinking that may have held you back in the past, it’s time to decide what your strengths are. Like many people, I came from a troubled family without a lot of resources, but after I dedicated myself to a career in music, my life took on incredible momentum. Making it as a singer wasn’t as easy as it might have looked from the outside and I have to work every day at staying sharp, but I am so grateful for my career. Music not only saved my life, it gave me a life.
MUSIC NOT ONLY SAVED MY LIFE, IT GAVE ME A LIFE.
Now, what about you? What are your strengths, talents, gifts, and passions? What can you build your life around? There are a few telltale signs to look for if you haven’t yet identified a strength. Here are just a few:
1. What are you drawn to time and again? Is there something you want to do during every spare minute?
2. What fills your bucket? Is there some activity that is so rewarding and fulfilling for you that you never get tired of engaging in it; in fact, is it something you’d even do for free just because it makes you happy? (Pretending for a minute, of course, that you didn’t have bills to pay or the standard requirements for food, shelter and clothing).
3. What comes easily for you? Is there a school subject, art form, craft, sport, skill or trade that you picked up quickly and then seemed to improve upon every time you do it?
4. What makes you stand out from the crowd? Think of any time when a friend, teacher, coach or classmate has said, “You’re really good at this.” Or “I wish I could do that as well as you.”
BUNDLE OF JOY
I promise that you have certain skills, talents, interests, and gifts that will not be denied. They begin to make themselves known from your earliest days, so it’s just a matter of taking the time to look for and recognize them. We are all uniquely made with our own pre-packaged gifts waiting to be unwrapped. If you’ve ever shopped for a computer, you know that most companies offer basic models with various bundles of special features depending on your needs and interests. Some are geared to gamers like me who like to play interactive video games on their computers. Others come with sophisticated software designed for photographers, graphic artists, or financial planners.
You and I come custom-equipped in much the same way. They don’t call babies bundles of joy for nothing. My bundle was the musical performance package. Yours may be the tech geek package, the artist package, the engineer package or the teacher package.
I encourage you to identify and develop your strengths so your weaknesses become irrelevant. Look at me. I was not a good student. My energy levels were so high that I had trouble focusing on subjects like reading, math and social studies. I was very good at daydreaming. Unfortunately they didn’t grade me on that. Maybe I had attention deficit disorder that was never diagnosed. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I could have studied math 24 hours a day for 365 days a year and I probably never would have done better than a C in that class. Even more important, I did not enjoy math. I never looked forward to it and I never felt good about myself while doing it—or trying to do it. A little parental encouragement would have helped, but I didn’t get much of that. If I’d ask things like, “Dad do you think I could be a scientist?” the answer was likely to be, “Yeah, whatever kid.”
You may have to reach down deep inside yourself and become your own source of encouragement and motivation, which is not ideal, but it certainly can be done. Build your confidence around your strong points, your talents and gifts. Just remember to make sure the young people who come into your life one day can look to you for the support they need, even if it’s support you never received from your family. It’s so vital for young people to have that. Try to make a difference in their lives, even if it’s helping them with homework and telling them they are special in some way. Point out their strengths and encourage them to develop them.
Too many people think that the secret to happiness and success is to master their weaknesses. I think that’s a recipe for a very unhappy and unsuccessful life. I’m all about focusing on strengths. There’s nothing wrong with trying to improve in areas of weakness so that you can at least get by, but why devote a lot of time and effort to an area where you will never stand out or enjoy yourself?
MUSIC EXCITED ME. I HAD A GIFT FOR IT.
You can prob
ably guess the one subject where I did kick butt in school—music. If I could have skipped math and biology and just spent every day in the band or chorus rooms that would have been fine with me. Music excited me. I had a gift for it. So I focused on developing that strength and now if I need the skills of accountants or doctors who were wizards at math and biology, I just hire them.
I am not a failure because I’ll never be a certified public accountant or be called Dr. Carter. My strengths and passions have taken me in a different direction. I can do basic math and I understand what I need to know about biology, but trying to become a “mathlete” or a biology brain would have been a waste of time for me. We have to go with our strengths if we are to be happy and fulfilled. If you love math, have a knack for numbers, study hard and become a successful accountant; who cares if you can’t draw a straight line or sing on key? If you are artistic and work to become a great illustrator, graphic designer or painter, it will never matter that you stink at algebra.
READY TO ROCK
We all have our weaknesses and our strengths. I say go with what works best for you. It’s about focusing on the positive so that your motivation comes from within. Devoting your time and energy to doing whatever you are inspired and passionate about, also helps you build confidence so you can overcome the challenges and setbacks that are a natural part of life.
LUCK AND TIMING—BOTH GOOD AND BAD—PLAY A PART IN EVERY LIFE.
I would consider myself a failure only if I never tried to make the most of the gifts I’ve been given. That doesn’t mean I had to be a pop star to find happiness. Honestly, I probably could have been very content teaching high school choir and performing weekends in clubs or for parties.
Luck and timing—both good and bad—play a part in every life. In fact, I consider myself lucky according to the theory that “Luck is where preparation meets opportunity.” With my mother’s help, I began building on my musical strengths from an early age with vocal coaches and dance coaches. I also performed in musical theater roles, television shows, commercials and talent competitions. So, I was about as prepared as a kid could be when luck brought the first big opportunities my way.