The Moth Radio Hour: Don't Stop the Music
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This autumn, fall for Moth Stories as we travel across the globe for our mainstages. We're excited to announce our fall lineup of storytelling shows from New York City to Iowa City, London, Nairobi, and so many more. The Moth will be performing in a city near you, featuring a curation of true stories. The Moth mainstage shows feature five tellers who share beautiful, unbelievable, hilarious, and often powerful true stories on a common theme. Each one told reveals something new about our shared connection.

To buy your tickets or find out more about our calendar, visit themoth.org slash mainstage. We hope to see you soon. From PRX, this is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm Jennifer Higson. In the immortal words of Chuck Berry, Roll Over Beethoven, in this hour we'll hear stories about music from both musicians and diehard fans. All kinds of music, Motown, folk, and hip-hop, and our first story, which falls squarely into the category of pop.

We first met David Montgomery at our Pittsburgh Story Slam, where we partner with public radio station WESA. Eventually, we developed this story with him and started taking him on the road. He's traveled quite a bit with us around the United States, but he was especially thrilled when he got to tell the story in London, England, because, in a way, that's where this whole thing started. Here's David Montgomery live in London. ♪

So I have a theory that there's a special place in heaven for those who grow up gay in a small backwoods town. I grew up extremely gay outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. If you've never been, it's pretty much the Manhattan of West Virginia, if that makes any sense. So things were not easy for me. When I was 12 years old, my huge family and I, my six brothers and sisters and my mother and me, we all sat down to dinner. And my sister said something about a Melissa Etheridge song.

because it was the 90s and that's what people talked about at dinner back then. And my mother turned to her and snapped. And she said, "I wouldn't listen to her music. She's a dyke. She's better off dead. Do not bring her music into this house." And my emotional growth is stunted by five seconds of dialogue from the one woman who's supposed to love me unconditionally. I'm a child at this point. And by the transitive property, my own mother had just said that I was better off dead. And it made me hate myself.

which made it so easy for other people to hate me. I remember I would sit alone in my room at night and cry to myself thinking, is this what my whole life is going to be like? Just sitting here, never connecting with anybody while the world outside rages on and laughs and has fun without me. I was worthless to myself. When I was 14 years old, I had a deeply meaningful experience, something so real, so raw, almost divine that I knew it was going to shape who I was to become for the rest of my life.

I saw the Spice Girls on MTV. I looked at the television at first in disgust. These five British women, not terribly older than me, running and screaming around this super fancy hotel. Who do they think they are? And my disgust turned into awe around the time Sporty Spice did that backflip off the buffet. When I realized this is what I want to do, metaphorically, I wanted to have a voice.

I wanted to be loud and brash and in your face and not care what people thought about me. I wanted to be spicy. Now, I promise you, outside of the Spice Girls, I have impeccable taste in music. I'm always about two drinks away from a Joni Mitchell tattoo at any given moment. And as a music person, I have this theory that if something gets to you at your adolescence, no matter how poppy it is, it always holds this like little special place in your heart. And if something traumatic happens to you during your fragile adolescence,

Then that tiny poppy thing becomes a huge obsession later on in life. An obsession sometimes so big that every now and then you have to take a step out of the real world and step into spice world for a while instead. Flash forward to 2007. I am now an adult. I'm a grown man. I'm finished with school. I went to school for elementary education to be a school teacher. I moved to Philadelphia.

And I was doing something within my field, it was called curriculum development, which is just as much fun as it sounds. So basically you take a teaching job and you take all of the fun and amazing, wonderful, inspiring parts of it out of the job. And then you replace it with like paperwork and emails and meetings that should have been emails. But you keep the low pay.

And I was feeling so squashed by the heavy weight of adult life. My boss hated me. I was making no money at all. And I was having a hard time meeting friends in this big new city that I'm living in. Suddenly I'm that teenager again, alone in my room, never connecting while the world outside rages on without me.

But one glorious day, I am at my workstation, and a colleague comes over to inform me it was just announced via Global News Network that the Spice Girls are embarking on a worldwide reunion tour with only eight shows across the globe. And the question on everyone's lips, of course, was which of the three American shows was I most definitely going to be going to? Now, full disclosure, I've always jokingly referred to my savings account as my Spice Girls reunion tour fund. LAUGHTER

And it became a reality that day, when like a crazy person, I bought tickets to all three of the American shows. I went and I asked my boss, who hated me, for an unpaid week off, and she gave me a soft no. And I...

I went back to my desk and I look at, I've still got on my screen, the Spice Girls reunion tour map and suddenly it's got a lot more than eight blue dots all over it and a split second later it's got even more blue dots. This tour is expanding rapidly. It looks like one of those time-lapse Ebola outbreak maps. Like, if we do nothing in five months time the Spice Girls will have infected the entire United States. We will all become victims of girl power.

And I know that my boss told me no, but like some out-of-body experience, my hand, independent of my body, kept clicking "Purchase Ticket, Purchase Ticket, Purchase Ticket" over and over again. I was like a zombie, but instead of mindlessly, instinctively feasting on human flesh, I was mindlessly, instinctively buying tickets to no less than 22 Spice Girls concerts. Twenty-two.

Thank you. I'm obviously not big on sports references. My nickname in high school was "Faggot." But in a matter of minutes, I just became the equivalent of a Spice Girls season ticket holder. Now I gotta talk to my boss again. This is gonna go great. So I walked in and said, "Hey, remember that week that I wanted off? It sort of needs to be a little bit more like four to six months off instead."

And she gave me a harder no this time around. And I went back to my desk and I was feeling so deflated and so defeated and I thought to myself, "David Montgomery, you are not being very spicy right now." "What would ginger spice do?" Now I'm sure you know, but for the uninitiated, she left the group at the height of their fame and in a rush of inspiration,

I walked out of my job that day, becoming the first adult in world history to leave their big boy job to follow the Spice Girls around. I mean, I really want to be a teacher, but I really, really, really want to zig-a-zig-a.

I was now broke as a joke, but goddammit was I being spicy. I went on that tour across America and I was everywhere. LA, Vegas, New York, Chicago, and just for the bragging rights I had a little YouTube show documenting my experience in Spice World. And it was kind of a hit, making me pretty notorious in the Spice community. Which is an actual thing.

I had people at every show and every airport coming up and asking for pictures with me. I had people quoting me. I had a tagline at the end of every episode where I'd say, "Remember, it's a spice world. We're just living in it." And strangers are saying my dumb words to me on the street. I mean, it's always nice to meet a fan.

But I had a bittersweet encounter with one on the road in New Jersey. This teenage boy came up to me, obviously gay, comes up to me after the show and he tells me a very familiar story. He tells me how he had to see the concert by himself because he doesn't have any friends. And he told me how he couldn't even get a ride to the show from his mother because she believed that driving her son to a Spice Girls concert would make him gay. And that is how it happens for all you parents out there.

He told me, I wish that I could be like you. I wish that I could just do something that made me so happy and not care what anybody thought about me and just live. And I didn't know what to say to him. I wanted to tell him that it gets better, but I don't know that it does. I mean, look at me at that moment. I was still nobody and my money was dwindling away. At the end of this tour, I might very well be homeless, but I'm definitely going to go back to being plain old, unspecial,

Next to nothing me. But the tour marched on. I was still recognized everywhere. Even the Spice Girls recognized me at this point. I mean, granted, I was one of very few adult men with a bleach blonde Posh Spice haircut in the front row every night. But I'll take it. And then there was a moment that has defined my life at this point. Victoria Beckham, Posh Spice, the laziest Spice Girl. LAUGHTER

My favorite Spice Girl. She was doing a signing the morning of their show in Chicago and she was promoting her designer women's fashion line. And you were only guaranteed to meet her at the event if you had a receipt for like $500 worth of merchandise from it. I didn't have that in my tour budget per se. I was mostly living off of like hotel coffee and airplane peanuts at that point. But I pressed my luck and I went to the event anyway.

And I was extremely discouraged to find that hundreds, even thousands of people would eventually get to cut in front of me if they had the receipts for this stuff. And before I know it, the event's nearly over and I'm dead last in line despite being the first person there. And this guy comes up to me and goes, excuse me, did you already go through the line once and you're trying to meet her again? And I said, no, I've been here since 4 a.m. And I don't think I'm going to get to meet her because I don't have any money. And he goes, you're kidding me. Follow me.

And we walk and we talk and he takes me down some service hallways and some pop-up quarters and he explains that he is their tour photographer. And he has recognized me from seeing me every single night and he wants his photo op of Posh Bice with her number one fan. He pushes me in front of her and she squeals, "Oh my god, it's you!" Not only was she not afraid of me, she was excited that I was there.

Now, at these events, she sits at a little table. She does not stand up for anyone or anything. If you want to get a picture with her, you have to lean across the table and they take a Polaroid from the side, real personal-like. She asked me how many shows I was seeing and did not believe me until I pulled out the evidence of the 22 ticket stubs. And when she saw it, she got up out of her seat, grabbed me by the hand, pulled me to the red carpet and said, "You are fabulous. We've got to get some pictures."

My presence has just moved the laziest Spice Girl to get up out of her seat and do something. What power do these hands hold in Spice World? So we go back to her little table, and I ask her to sign a CD very specifically, and I dictated the following words to her. Dear David, you're really thin. You should eat something. Love, Victoria Beckham. And the smug pop star who has made a career out of not laughing or smiling...

cackled and covered her mouth so the press wouldn't get a picture of her looking happy. And at that moment, it started to click. Maybe I'm not better off dead. Maybe I'm okay. Maybe special even. But all good things must come to an end. And in February of 2008, the Spice Girls called it quits again. My walkabout was over. Now what? The tour was definitively over. And the reviews were in.

I'm not doing bad at all. I waited a long time for that good feeling about myself to go away, and I'm so happy to report that it never did because I learned so much about the world in my little walkabout. I gained perspective. I repaired my relationship with my mom. I realized that back then she was a young single mom with seven kids. Of course she was frustrated and angry and acted out about things. She's since realized that I'm a human being with feelings and worth no matter who I fall in love with.

I learned that the world was never hating me while I couldn't connect. The world was waiting for me to find my voice, and good luck getting me to shut up now. And there is one more little thing that I learned about the world that I think I probably knew all along. It's a Spice World. We're just living in it. Thank you so much. Thank you. That was David Montgomery, live at a moth show at Union Chapel in London, England, the country where it all began for the Spice Girls. I really, really, really wanna zig-a-zig-a

When we first met David, he was a teacher to some of the luckiest first graders in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He's since moved to Los Angeles where he's officially a writer, comedian, and actor. Check out his website at themoth.org to catch up with what he's doing now and to see pictures of him on his Spice Girl walkabout, including the one of him with an uncharacteristically smiling Posh Spice.

I recently got some answers from David via telephone. I asked him about the YouTube show he mentions and if I'd be able to find it. You cannot find it, unfortunately. I had to take them all down whenever the tour ended because I needed to sort of like regain some kind of professional footing and I needed to get back into teaching.

And I applied for a job actually at the school that I student taught at, you know, a few years before that. And I, I called and talked to the administrator and she said, we have a new principal who is a former nun. And now I was really worried, you know, I've got to put the gay away and I've got to really hide everything. Cause it might be a homophobic environment. I don't know. And I, uh,

And yeah, so I took everything down and I went in and I nailed this interview when I sat down and talked to her. Like she said, man, your resume speaks for itself and everybody's going on about what a great inspiring teacher you are. I'm very excited. She said, there's an interesting thing here as well. I have to ask if you have any interest or ability, there's an opening in the music department. And I said, oh no, I wish, but I can't even sing on key in the shower. And she goes, really? Yeah.

All that time with the Spice Girls and you can't even sing. She knew the whole time. She knew the whole time. The main thing I wanted to know from David was, if the Spice Girls announced a reunion tour tomorrow, would he do it all again? You know what? At this point in my life, I'm an older man. Everything is good to go. I think I fixed that part of myself. I think I'll just watch from afar. If they come to L.A.,

I'll obviously go and see them. But outside of that, I think that chapter has closed. So finally, I asked David, what's your favorite part of sharing the story with audiences around the country and around the world? I think the coolest thing about I think storytelling in general is whenever you have a story that's funny and sad and uplifting and depressing and all these things, people take away what they connect with the most. And I've had people come up

crying to me saying, you know, like my daughter came out to me two years ago and I haven't spoken to her since. And I'm calling her tonight because of you. And I've had other people come up and say, Oh my God, I took a picture with you 10 years ago in Chicago because I loved your YouTube show. And just, I don't know. It's the weirdest thing in the world. The different things that people take away from it and what it means to them, I think has, has been such like an exciting, fun ride. Yeah.

with this story in particular. So I got a lot of favorites, I guess. That was the Spice Girls' number one fan, David Montgomery. When we return, a little girl develops her beautiful voice singing in church and then takes it to Motown. And another story about an organization where secular music is forbidden when the Moth Radio Hour continues. Sing your hometown.

The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX. This is the Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Jennifer Hickson, and in this hour, we're talking about music. This next story was told in Kalamazoo, where we partnered with Michigan Public Radio. If you don't know the Velvelettes by name, I'm pretty sure you've heard them over the years. Here's a little to jog your memory.

Now, before you listen to Cal Street's story, I wanted to find a term for you because you don't hear it much anymore. Cal Street mentions a record hop. These were concerts held at schools and colleges. Bands would perform, kids would dance. Sometimes they're called sock hops because the school would ask the kids to remove their shoes so the gymnasium floor wouldn't get damaged. And now, here is Cal Street live at the mall.

Where should I start? My life has been a just a roller coaster of let me start. We're in the studio Motown's Studio A, the recording studio where all of those hit records that you hear from the Motown sound were produced and we're listening to

songs from other artists, but we're also listening to songs that we recorded. And when I say we, I mean the Velvelettes. Thank you. Thank you. I was still in high school, so all they could do was release songs and I could only do record hops on the weekend because my parents were promised by Mr. Barry Gordy that they would not interfere with me in my school days, so

Anyway, they were listening to the song that put us on the map, Needle in a Haystack. And we weren't on the A-list of entertainers because we were the last girl group to come in there. And we were competing with the Marvelettes, the Supremes, and Martha and the Vandellas. And the Velvelettes were the last girl group to come through there. Anyway, the success of Needle in a Haystack prompted a call from Dick Clark.

And Dick Clark wanted the Velvelettes, because our record was a hit before the Supremes, "Where Did Our Love Go?" But he wanted the Velvelettes and the Supremes to join the Dick Clark Caravan of Stars tour.

which we did. So right out of high school, I was two weeks out of high school, and I'm flying to Chicago to be in a Dick Clark Caravan of Stars tour. And my parents were asking me, but what are you going to do about school? How long are you going to be gone? You're supposed to go to college. You're supposed to do this. I said, I don't know, but I'm going on the Caravan of Stars tour. I'm getting ready to make between 500 and 1,000 bucks a week at the age of 16 or 17, and you're going to ask me something like that.

So it was a very, very fun tour. As a matter of fact, Diana Ross's mother was our chaperone and Diana Ross was my roommate. For two years, two summers, we did two Dick Clark Caravan of Stars tours and she was my roommate. And she was a very nice lady. I don't care what people say about her. She was very nice to me. And she treated me like I was her little sister. She really did. We used to stand in the mirror in our underwear and...

decide and argue, friendly argument though, about who was the skinniest. She said, you're skinnier than me. I said, no, I'm not. No, you are much more skinnier than me. So we would do that and just have a ball. And those were a lot of the positive, that's part of the positive experiences that I had besides singing on stage. Now getting up here talking on stage, believe me or not, believe it or not, I'm kind of nervous. It's easier for me to sing to you

than it is for me to just talk to you. Anyway, at any rate, as time went on, the Velvelettes had another hit, he was really saying something, and that took us back out on the second Dick Clark tour with the Supremes and several other groups from across the country. The second tour included the Zombies from England. You remember that? "No one told me about the way she walks." Okay, that was the group from England that was on our tour.

And the lead singer had a crush on me. He did. His name was Colin Blundstone. And he had a crush on me and he would call my home in Kalamazoo and my mother and father would say, "Who is that calling? I can't even understand what he's saying." "It's Kyle there. I'm just calling Blundstone. And I'm calling from England." And my parents, their ears weren't ready for that.

So anyway, I cultivated, we cultivated a lot of friendships. I cultivated a lot of friendships. I happen to be the youngest member of the group. I auditioned for the Velvelettes when I was 14 years old in ninth grade. So that was quite a big responsibility when they nominated me. They were electing, whatever you want to say it, they said, you are our lead singer.

And so I'm looking around and I'm saying, yeah, but I'm only 14 in the ninth grade. They said, that's okay. You've demonstrated that you can lead. But that's because my father was a Baptist preacher. Okay. My father was a Baptist preacher. My mother was a nurse attendant and they raised seven children. And I'm the middle child and the middle girl of the whole kit and caboodle.

And my dad noticed that I loved singing at a young age, so he would, and he had his own church for a while, and he would tell me, "Cal Anne, you're gonna have to lead the congregation while Mildred," my older sister, "played the piano."

and lead them in song for devotion, service, and what have you. I said, what's all that? And he would say, well, you can do it. I want you to read from the hymnal. And he was right. He says, just let the Lord lead you, and he'll show you how to sing it. And that's what happened. And so at a young age, say eight, nine years old, I was leading the congregation in church.

singing. Motown Records and Mr. Gordy, they were, they were, they knew that story because my dad told them when he and my brother took us there to audition in a terrible winter snowstorm. It took us five hours to drive to Detroit and it was treacherous, very treacherous. But, um,

So that early development of leading a group really helped me become an effective lead singer for the Val Valettes. And I would find out years later in Beverly Hills, California, when we received the Lifetime Achievement Award for the Heroes and Legends that...

Mr. Gordy, he admitted to us on stage that had it not been for the success of Needle in the Haystack, he couldn't have made payroll that month. And how do you think that made us feel? Not only were we proud to be a part of the Motown legacy, but we were proud to be that important. And we were proud to be able to say, we helped Motown stay together. Thank you so much.

That was Cal Street live in her hometown of Kalamazoo, Michigan. Thank you, Cal and the Velvelettes, for keeping the lights on at Motown Records. What a legacy. Some of the Velvelettes' most popular songs are Needle in a Haystack, He Was Really Saying Something, and These Things Will Keep Me Loving You.

Next up, a slam story from Boston, Massachusetts, where we partner with WBUR. As you listen, you may wonder, where's the music part? Well, stay tuned. You'll hear it. Here's Dawn Smith live at the Moth. A fun characteristic all cults share is that they resist that label, cults. Even now, 15 years since the cult fell apart,

My parents will still give me a list of reasons why the group that they started in the early 70s was not a cult. So fine. It wasn't a cult. What it was was a non-denominational, evangelical, fundamentalist, religious fringe group, the members of which did not really integrate into society.

But it wasn't a cult, you guys, because we had mainstream religious beliefs like God is all-powerful, God is all-knowing, and women can't wear nail polish. The leader of the not-cult was my grandfather, George Givtakis, and he could do whatever he wanted. He decided who married who, he had control of the money, he decided where people lived. We lived in California, we didn't have a television, we couldn't listen to secular music.

We could listen to select Christian artists, not Amy Grant. She was far too female and independent. Christian music was fine, and Rush Limbaugh was always a good option. But it wasn't a cult, you guys, because women could go to the beach just like anybody, as long as we were fully clothed. Because, in case you didn't know, if there's one thing that throws a wrench in the will of God, it's a woman in a one-piece. LAUGHTER

When I was five years old, my mom was trying to get this hairdresser to join our group and so she sent me to get a haircut. I told the hairdresser that my secret hero was Mary Lou Retton, the gymnast. She cut my hair just like hers and I was in heaven. My parents were appalled. Short hair was God's plan for men. At five years old, I had already transgressed against Almighty God and His plan for my life.

But there was, in my life, times when the real world did shine through. My big break came when I was 11 years old. My parents were going to an all-day elders and their wives church meeting, and my sister and I were going to be at home alone cleaning the house. My job was to take all their books from their bookcase, take them out, dust the shelves, put all the books back.

This was the day I discovered that my dad had a secret. I took all his Bibles from his lower shelf, and as I was dusting the shelf, I felt something pushed way back under the bookcase out of view. I pulled it out, and I opened up this oddly shaped box. Inside was Bob Dylan's complete collection of vinyl records.

This was a total no-no, okay? Except for maybe his three-year Jesus period, this music was totally off limits. You see, before my dad found Jesus, he was a surfer hippie with a pretty great taste in music. And he had given it all up for Christ. Everything except for Bob Dylan.

Whose music he kept hidden from view. A secret that he couldn't enjoy listening to, but he also could not bear to throw it away. And so I started from the beginning. I put that first record in, and I sat down, and I started listening to this amazing, revolutionary music that I'd never heard before.

I started from the beginning and I listened to everything and then I started over. I forgot about my chores and about the cult and about getting in trouble. I forgot about all the rules. I was totally swept away. I heard Lay Lady Lay and Maggie's Farm and the times they are changing.

And then it was night and my parents burst into their bedroom like, "What is going on? Where is this music coming from?" My dad looked so guilty. It was the best thing ever. I was in the middle of all of his records and there were these photographs of Dylan and this catalog of lyrics. I did not get in trouble that night.

And shortly after that, my parents decided to let my sister and I listen to a very select group of secular musicians. It was our first taste of the real world, a world that wasn't quite as demonic as we had been taught. When I was 23 years old, I left the cult. It was the hardest decision I ever made and also the biggest break of my life. Thank you.

I will always be thankful for the day that I found my dad's secret stash of music because it helped me see who my dad might have been before the cult. But most of all, it was the day that I started my own personal revolution. Thank you so much.

Dawn Smith is a writer, director, and producer. Her comedy series, Paid For By, spoofs the political campaign industry she's worked in for years. Dawn says she left the cult and never looked back. She loves taking her kids to concerts, and when she plays Dylan, she turns the volume up high.

She said, Making ads about getting out to vote and marriage equality has been a way for me to put messages into the world in direct contradiction to what I was raised to believe. I can't undo the hurt my grandparents caused, but I can shine my own light. All right, Dawn, shine on. And keep your eyes wide, the chance won't come again. And don't speak too soon, for the wheel's still in spin.

And there's no telling who that it's naming. Next up, our final story about a young hip-hop artist from Miami, Florida. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by the Public Radio Exchange, prx.org.

You're listening to the Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Jennifer Hickson. This time, we're hearing stories about music. Our final story is by musician Jin Ao Young, or as he's also known, MC Jin. Jin pitched us his story via our pitch line. Note, you, listener, can also pitch us there. Just go to themoth.org and follow all the directions right there on the site. Here's a bit of Jin's pitch. I was born and raised in Miami.

I got into hip-hop when I was about 12 years old. By the time I was 21, I signed my first record deal with a major record label. Oh, a small fact. I am Chinese, and little did I know this would be crucial to not only my success, but also to my pitfalls being Chinese.

supposedly the first Chinese rapper to ever sign a major record deal. We liked what we heard, gave him a call, and then Jin developed this story with one of our directors. Eventually, he told it for us in Miami at a show where we partnered with public radio station WLRN. Here's Jin Aoyoung live at The Moth in Miami, Florida. In the year 2000, I was a senior, not too far from here, in the city of North Miami Beach. Anybody? Anybody?

Which is where I was born and raised. As well, if you remember that year, it was the year of one of, probably one of the most memorable elections this country experienced. And you guys were responsible for it. The recount. Bush versus Gore. And at the time, you know, there were more important things on my mind than the well-being of this country. Like being a rap star.

So I graduated and I moved to New York City, the birthplace, the mecca of hip-hop. And I ended up on this TV show, 106 and Park, where they have a freestyle battle once a week called Freestyle Friday. And I won seven weeks in a row and I ended up landing a record deal with Rough Riders. Yes, home of...

Some of my childhood heroes: EVE, Swissbeats, DMX. Little did I know at the time that this was a monumentous happening, you know, because I was the first of my kind that the label had signed and essentially the first of my kind that I think hip-hop had really been exposed to. And when I say my kind, I mean Chinese. Yeah. And I can prove I'm Chinese. I do speak it, right? Pay attention.

which is a very traditional Chinese greeting. It means, "What's up, dog?" Another question I would get asked often was, "How does it feel," especially in interviews, "How does it feel to be referred to as the Chinese Eminem?" And I would think, "I guess it's better than being referred to as the yellow Eminem." Then another thing that kind of caught me off guard was the notion that, "Jin, there's 1.3 billion Chinese people. You're destined for success."

And the 20-something year old me was very logical in this matter and I was like, "Yeah, they are gonna buy my album." Two copies each. So at this time I'm traveling the world, I'm touring, I'm living it up. 2004 comes around and these elections, they keep following me around. The whole music industry wanted to vote that year apparently. I remember Diddy.

Diddy, Puff Daddy, Sean Combs. I don't know what he's going by currently, but he had this shirt on. "Vote or die, vote or die!" I didn't vote. My album did come out that year, in 2004. And it was also kind of the moment that I realized this childhood dream was slowly transforming into an adultish nightmare. Apparently, those 1.3 billion Chinese people aren't all rap fans.

And of the ones that are, they weren't all Jin fans. So when my album sales came in, that's pretty much when they stopped comparing me to Eminem. I'm sure he was glad to because I know he was tired of being referred to as the white Jin. But this moment in time for me also really sent me into a very menacing spiral. As much as I

Wanted to put on this facade like I was doing fine. I wasn't I was bitter. I was frustrated. I was discouraged I was cynical Financially, I was doing like horrible. I went from living with my family This is in New York in like a two-story house to family house to downsizing to renting a basement of someone else's home where my family of four was all living

At one point I was disclosed to going down to Best Buy and seeing if they're hiring. You know, the thought of once upon a time being on TV to now having to peddle them, like, was gut-wrenching. And nonetheless, I tried to put on this facade like I was okay, and I think that made it even worse. Then 2008 came around, and I keep telling you, these elections, they keep following me around.

I was 26 at the time, and for the first time, maybe because of just this feeling of dread and despair, it forced me to seek something that was outside of myself, something outside of my own ambitions and my own desires. So I remember watching this speech, the Democratic National Convention speech of one Senator Barack Obama, and the main themes were hope, change,

And even though he was talking to the whole country, I felt like he was talking to me. Like he was saying, "Jen, yes you can." It lifted me up that moment. And then when I started reading more about him, watching his interviews, and I knew that, you know, he was an OutKast fan, I was like, "Yo, I'm voting for him!" And I registered and I hit the ground running. This is my first time participating in the election process, guys.

I was passing out stickers on the streets of New York City. I had a clipboard, "Excuse me sir, have you registered to vote?" "Ma'am, have you registered to vote?" I even did it in Chinatown. "Why are you asking me to vote?" Sometimes I had to stop them in a more unorthodox way. "What are you doing?" That means "What's up, dog?" by the way. I don't know if you guys were paying attention earlier.

But it was such an exciting process because I was part of something that was so driven by community. I think leading up to that, I don't think I looked at anything other than just what am I doing? How am I doing? So in the midst of all that, it dawned on me, why don't I go back to what I do best? So I went to the studio and I wrote a song, you know, kind of like an unofficial campaign song. And it's called Letter to Obama.

And the opening line is like this: "Dear Obama, first off, this is such an honor. I'm a supporter. I just wanted to say I truly believe in your bipartisan ways." There's more, but I'll stop there. And I put it on the most important place

MySpace, yes. We all had a MySpace page at one point, don't lie. But one day, I log onto my MySpace page, right, and I'm noticing, wow, so many people are listening to this song, and, you know, it's definitely feeling the love and, you know, kind of that community aspect once again. And I log onto Barack Obama's MySpace page, I look at his top friend, and lo and behold, there he was in all his glory. Me! At that moment!

At that moment, I'm like, I mean, I felt like I was at the Grammys, right? And I'm basking in it. I log into my inbox, you know, and a message stood out from Barack Obama's MySpace page. So I'm like, wait a minute. I click on it. Very short, sweet, to the point. Jin, just want to say thank you for your support. Keep up the great work, right? But I took it all in. Oh, my gosh.

And I respond, "Oh, thank you." And I tell you why. It just felt good to be appreciated, but more so, it felt good once again to know that I am part of something that's unfolding that is not only highly historical, but just something magical. I see it as magical, right? So I respond, I say, "Thank you," and I move on with life. A couple days go by.

I get another message. Now this one, it basically asked me, "Hey Jin, from his page, is there a phone number we can reach you at?" The first thought on my mind is, "Am I about to get a call from Obama?" What's he gonna call me about? Like he got like an extra ticket to an OutKast concert or something? I don't know. Who knows at this point?

So, yeah, I'm like, "Yeah, call me at, you know, this number." And I get the call eventually from this unknown number. It was basically an invitation to attend an upcoming rally that was happening in New York City at Washington Square Park. Not only attend, but perform my song. Yeah. And then, when I finished the song, introduce Senator Obama on stage. Right?

The thing that stuck out to me the most was there was so much healing at that point. Even just that invitation, just inside me. So the day comes, a beautiful day in New York, and I remember just stepping out there, 10,000 plus people, and I was just one of a sea of people. Yeah, it just felt great. So I do my song, right? The whole thing. Dear Obama, comma, yes.

But I finished the song, I introduced him on stage, and I'm watching this historical moment, not just in the history of this country and the elections, but this historical moment that I was being part of and just feeling, yeah, feeling like, you know, wow, this is something bigger than me. As he's wrapping up, one of the campaign staff approaches me and says, make sure you stay close. We're going to bring him around. You know, you're going to have a moment with him. It's like, wow.

It's too much, but I'm standing there.

Mean you hear people say things started happening in slow motion time froze. It was definitely one of those I see him approaching me now That day I had my then girlfriend at the time Carol with me and she was with me for basically this whole journey that you've hear me talk about so it was special for her and me and In my hand I had this book dreams of my father and I was reading which is his biography and as he approaches us

Extended hand, we shake, and he just gets straight to the point. It wasn't like a long conversation, but thank you for your efforts. You know, thank you for what you're doing. Great job. And I'm soaking it in, I'm soaking it in. And then he takes the book, and I had a marker with me, of course. And he signs it, right? Keep up the good work to Jin and Carol. And the first thought on my mind is like, now I gotta marry her. Which I did.

But I did, and he went on to become, you know, in 2008, the President of America. And I'd like to think my little song had something to do with that. Hey, who knows? Maybe my song brought in that extra 1.3 billion votes that he needed. And not only that, but from that moment and that experience, I was able to really just...

pick up those shattered pieces and lift my head up and kind of see the light at the end of the tunnel. And for the first time, I think I realized that while all along I was just so focused on this experience being me, me, me, me, I realized that it wasn't about me. It was about us. Thank you guys so much. That was Jin Au-Young, or as he's otherwise known, MC Jin.

Jin continues to create and produce music here in the U.S. as well as Hong Kong and China. To get a link to Jin's website, visit themoth.org. And you're listening to him right now.

Remember, Jen pitched us this story on our pitch line. Do you have a story to tell us? Maybe a time when music saved the day? You can pitch us your story by recording it right on our site or call 877-799-MOTH. That's 877-799-6684. The best pitches are developed for moth shows all around the country. And if you're interested in learning more about the story,

And the world, really. That's it for this episode of the Moth Radio Hour. We hope you'll join us next time. And as Rihanna said, please don't stop the music.

Your host this hour was Jennifer Hickson. Jennifer also directed the stories in the show, along with Kate Tellers and Maggie Ceno. The rest of the Maltz directorial staff includes Catherine Burns, Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin-Ginesse, and Meg Bowles, production support from Timothy Lou Lee. Maltz stories are true, as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers.

Our theme music is by The Drift. Other music in this hour from The Spice Girls, The Velvelettes, Bob Dylan, and MC Jin. You can find links to all the music we use at our website. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by me, Jay Allison, with Vicki Merrick at Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. This hour was produced with funds from the National Endowment for the Arts. The Moth Radio Hour is presented by...

by PRX. For more about our podcast, for information on pitching, your own story, and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.