One of the first times I ever performed in front of a big group

The words of Chance The Rapper, when he recalls his first performance — “One of the first times I ever performed in front of a big group of people was at my kindergarten graduation. I did, like, a Michael Jackson impersonation as, like, a five-year-old. I had the suit and blazer, the glove and the fedora, and I just performed a whole Michael Jackson song. I'm sure it was 'Smooth Criminal.’” — speak not merely of childhood play, but of the awakening of destiny. Beneath the innocence of that moment lies the spark of calling — the mysterious fire that reveals itself in small beginnings. What seems a child’s imitation is often the soul’s first rehearsal for greatness.

In the ancient way of understanding, every great life begins with a whisper — not a trumpet. The child within is the first prophet of the adult’s purpose. Before the sculptor carves marble, he plays with sand. Before the warrior rides into battle, he dreams of valor beneath the stars. So it was with this young child, who at five years old stood before a crowd, not knowing that he was practicing courage. When Chance put on the fedora and glove, when he became Michael Jackson for a song, he was not pretending — he was prophesying. In that dance of a five-year-old, the universe rehearsed the artist he was meant to become.

Let us remember the story of Leonardo da Vinci, who as a child drew birds with an obsession that worried his elders. They thought it idle play, but within those sketches were the seeds of inventions and paintings that would astonish the world. Or of Mozart, who at the age of five composed melodies that echoed with divine symmetry. In the same way, the laughter of the kindergarten crowd, the applause that filled a small room, became for Chance the sacred echo of his future — the rhythm that would carry him through stages far greater than that first one. Greatness begins where innocence meets courage.

This tale reminds us that the first expressions of the soul must be honored, no matter how small, foolish, or playful they seem. The ancients taught that every calling begins as a shadow — fragile and uncertain — but grows stronger when nourished with faith. The little boy who dared to imitate his hero was not mocking, but reaching toward transcendence. To imitate greatness is the first step to discovering one’s own. For what is imitation but the soul learning its language by echo? In time, the echo becomes a voice — distinct, powerful, and eternal.

Thus, the image of a five-year-old in a tiny suit and glove, moonwalking on a kindergarten stage, becomes a sacred symbol. It is the emblem of fearless expression — of standing before others and revealing one’s joy without shame. It teaches that art begins not in mastery, but in the courage to show oneself. And though the child did not know it, that courage was a holy act. Every creator, every visionary, every leader must one day return to that childlike place — where daring is simple and joy is pure.

Consider this: every act of greatness begins in play. Before the poet writes an epic, he plays with words. Before the athlete wins glory, he plays with a ball. And before the musician moves hearts, he plays with sound. The play of the child contains the wisdom of the cosmos — for in play, there is no fear of failure. So when Chance danced as Michael Jackson, he stepped into a sacred lineage — not of imitation, but of initiation. The spirit of music, of performance, passed through him as a current passes through a wire — and the lights of destiny flickered on.

The lesson, then, for all who listen: do not dismiss your small beginnings. Do not be ashamed of the first, awkward performances of your dreams. When you stand before others trembling but sincere, the heavens watch with pride. When you wear the “glove and fedora” of your heroes, wear them boldly — for through imitation, you are apprenticed to greatness. The child who imitates with heart will one day create with truth.

So take action, O listener: return to your first love, the thing that made your eyes shine when you were young. Practice it, even if the world calls it childish. Perform your own “Smooth Criminal,” whatever form it takes — a painting, a song, a dream. For within that fearless moment lies the map to your destiny. And when others laugh, remember this truth passed down through ages: the laughter of the crowd is nothing compared to the applause of eternity, which greets only those who dared to begin.