Transcriber: Hiroko Kawano
Reviewer: Tanya Cushman How are you? This is very exciting -
very, very exciting. I love Nashville. It's one of my favorite towns. I'm here to ask you guys
a very specific question: What do I want? What do you want? Have you ever asked yourself
that question, what do I want? I never really did until about 2005. A little background. I was born and raised
in Hollywood, California. A first-generation American. It's where my parents moved to
after they met in New York in the '50s. My dad. My dad was Bulgarian. He spoke five languages. He was an incredible man. He was beloved by everyone
who knew him. He had so much integrity. But he lived in Bulgaria. And he wanted a better life. He was drafted into the Bulgarian Army at 19 years old, and while he was there,
one day, in passing, he sees that there are 12 seltzer bottles
sitting on the back of a truck. And he looks around, and nobody's there, and he takes them. I don't know why he took them. For no reason other than probably he wanted to give them
to his father, who had a little inn. But he was caught, and the Bulgarian Army
decided to make an example out of him. And so they sentenced him
to three years and four months in jail, which he did. He got out early, at three years,
for good behavior. He decided to stay in Plovdiv,
the town where the jail was, and he eventually met a young woman,
and they got married. Soon she was pregnant, and while she was giving birth,
she died in labor. Their son was born, but my brother Emil
died four months later. My dad, I think, experienced trauma - he wanted to be free. He wanted to leave this communism. And so he thought,
"I want to go to America." Not so easy to do - you can't just leave
a communist country. So he tried to escape,
and they caught him. And they put him into a forced labor camp. While he was in this forced labor camp,
he saw a pattern starting to develop. He was a coal miner,
and he was working during the days, but he noticed that at night
these trains would come in, and these trains blocked a certain
visual point where the guards were. And he became friends with the guard,
and he said to this guard, bribing him with a pack of cigarettes
or a carton of cigarettes: "Listen, do you think
I can get on the night shift? I'm more of a night person." And so the guy said, "Okay." So my dad now has a plan. He starts looking at all of the trains
and when they come in, and he's starting to see the pattern. And one night, on the night shift,
at about 1:30 in the morning, he says to the other people
and the guards, "Listen, it's getting a little chilly. Do you think I can go down
and get some firewood for the fire?" And they said,
"I think that's a good idea." And he said, "Can I bring
my friend Richard with me because the two of us will save time?" So the guard said, "Okay." They timed it perfectly,
the trains came up, they shot between two train cars, and they ran, and they ran, and they ran, and they continued running. And by the time they realized
that they were gone, they were too far ahead to be found. They got a job on a boat - well, my dad did,
and he was the stevedore, the guy that shoveled
the coal on the boat. And that boat was coming to America. But there was only one job, so he decided to ask if he could bring
his friend Richard with them, and they said, "No." So my dad stowed Richard away on the ship. (Laughter) They eventually made it to Philadelphia, where they left the ship to be in America, and never turned back. And that's where my parents
met, in New York City, because my dad had the courage
to understand what it was that he wanted: he wanted to be free. He wanted to come to America. And he did that. My mom. My mom was Greek. My mom was Greek,
but she was born in America. And when she was four years old, her family, who was doing well in America
and they were all American citizens, decided to go back to their village, which was on the border
of Albania and Greece, but technically in Albania. And there, during that wonderful summer of vacation, this little American family
was struck with tragedy: her father died unexpectedly. And my grandmother was now a widow
with four children under the age of 10. And the [Greek] relatives said, "Stay in the village. What is a widow with four children
going to do in America?" And so now you have
these American citizens that have left their home back in this village that was not the home
any of the kids knew. It was just the home for now. So they stayed, and they stayed for a few years. But war started to break out,
and soon after the war, which was now occupied by Italians
that were working with the Nazis - armed guards everywhere - they knew that it was getting rougher
and they were going to have to leave. But they didn't know how. Now, you have to understand something. When my mom was talking
about escaping these mountains - I grew up in the Hollywood Hills - I thought it was going to be
like little rolling hills like you see in the movies
where the Hollywood sign is. But no, there were more mountains. The mountains were huge,
but they came up with a plan. And the plan was this: my family was going to go at night, when they weren't going to be suspicious, when everybody was thinking
they were sleeping, when there was no reason to think
anybody would ever leave in the middle of the night. But there was a hitch. My mom found out there was a letter
that was supposed to arrive the next day. And if somebody was not there
to receive this letter, the guards would know they had left. This was a tiny village. They would recognize if you weren't there. And so my mom had to ask
herself the question: What do I want? What do I want? I want to go home. So she decided to volunteer
to be the one to stay behind. Her family went on ahead,
she waited, she got the letter, and the next night, she went by herself
over those huge mountains to meet her family, who was waiting
on the other side in Greece so that they could go back to Athens,
renew their passports and come to America. That's how they end up
in Hollywood, where I'm born. And my parents accomplished
the most amazing things: they were able to ask themselves
what they wanted and take the steps to make it happen. And here I was, I was able
to start a career at 14 years old, modeling and doing the Brady Bunch - some might know that episode. Pat Conway, Greg, chose me
to be head cheerleader, not Marcia or his girlfriend. (Laughter) And I loved my life. And my dad was a bartender. And I remember putting
the little coins, that he would make, from his tip bag together on Saturdays, and those would go to the bank. I didn't think I wanted to be
more successful than my parents. I wanted to be like my parents
because of what they did. They allowed me to have dreams
to do things that I wanted to do, to be an actor, because of the risks that they had taken. And so I just wanted to be with them, and I never thought
that I could have anything else or could even want anything else. Success to them was living without fear, was living in a free country. And then in 2005, I read an article that changed my life. It was an interview
that was with Oprah Winfrey. And the reporter was asking Oprah, "I don't understand it, Oprah,
how do you do all the things that you do? You have a TV show, you write books,
you do speeches, you act in movies, you produce movies and TV series. How do you do it?" And she said, "Well,
I know what it is that I want. And when you know
what it is that you want, you can take the steps
to make that happen. Most people don't know
what it is that they want." What do I want? That was a terrifying question to me. How could I even want anything? Like, I felt that that's a question
you can't ask yourself. That is something
other people can ask, but not me. Why? I had everything. In 2005, I had the greatest parents. I had an amazing husband, children. We had our health. We were living the life. To ask a question like "What do I want?" felt selfish. It felt greedy. It felt that I couldn't. And so I didn't ask the question. I tried to ask it,
but I kept getting shut down. I wouldn't even allow myself the fantasy
of asking that question. But as an actor, we have an actors' game
and that's called "What if?" So I started thinking, "What if I could want something,
what would it be?" What if? And so I'd go jogging,
and I'd go walking, and I'd go hiking, and I'd be asking myself that question. What if I could want something,
what would it be? And one day, the answer came to me. Music. Music was the thing that gave me joy. When I look back
on what gave me joy as a child, it was music. I would sing "Ode to Billy Joe"
at the drop of a hat. And by the way, what the heck
is going on in that song? (Laughter) My mom and I would drive in the [car]; I would hear music on the radio, and she would say things to me
in her Greek accent like "That song going to be a hit." (Laughter) And we would sing along. I took a job as a ticket-taker
at a concert venue called the Universal Amphitheatre, because all summer long
I could take the tickets, but we were allowed to watch the concerts. And I would sit on those steps, and I would watch the artists
come through all summer - all the greats. And I thought to myself,
"How? How do they do it? How do they get up there? How do they get in a band? How do you write music? How long does it take
to learn an instrument?" I didn't know how to make that happen. There wasn't YouTube at the time. My dad was a bartender;
my mom was a house maker - nobody in the business that I knew - but I wanted it so badly. So back to 2005,
I get this epiphany of music, and shortly thereafter,
I'm having a meeting with my agency. And I walk into the office, and they asked me the typical question when you're having a meeting
with your agent: "So, Rita, tell us
what it is that you want. What do you want to do?" And I said the words, "Music. I wouldn't mind doing a musical." And it felt like I was standing there like in that dream when you're naked (Laughter) and everybody is staring at you and you know it, but you can't move. That's what it felt like. And they looked at me like, "Hmm, music." They had never heard that from me before. So sometimes the universe conspires
to work with you, not against you. And I promise you this. The very next day, I got a call. And they said, "Rita, you have an offer to play Roxie Hart
in the musical 'Chicago' on Broadway." I really couldn't believe it -
I called my friend Nora Ephron, and I said, "Nora" - you know who she is,
the amazing screenwriter and director - and I said "Nora, I've been offered
this musical on Broadway, 'Chicago.' What should I do?" And she said, "Well, you should go see it,
make sure it's in good shape." (Laughter) So I was like, "Okay." So I get my husband, I get my daughter,
and we fly off to New York, and we go see the musical "Chicago." It is fantastic. Everybody is incredible - the Bob Fosse choreography,
the jazz hands, the singing, the dancing, the laughter - it was incredible! And during the intermission, I turned to my husband, and I said, (Laughter) "There is no way I am doing this musical." (Laughter) And he said, "You are doing this." I said, "I'm too terrified;
I can't do this." I turn to my daughter,
hoping that she would agree. And she said, "No,
you're 1,000% doing this." And I think sometimes
the people you love know what it is that you should be doing
before you even do it. And so I did "Chicago The Musical" on Broadway. (Applause) And it changed my life. It changed my life. I got to sing every day. I got to sing great songs every day. I met amazing people. I had a community. It led me to the mission statement -
my personal mission statement - that I was only going to do projects
that had music in them. And fortunately, I found
an ABBA musical called "Mamma Mia" that my husband and I made
into its movie and sequel. I wanted to do a musical
based on '70s music, and met with a friend of mine
who was an A&R guy at a label. And I was telling him the ideas, and he said, "Well, why don't you
make an album out of this first and see if you - where it goes." I said, "But I'm not a singer; I did a musical, but I'm not a singer." He says, "Just meet a friend of mine
who's a producer." And before you knew it, I was making
an album of cover songs called "AM/FM." Going to the studio every day,
I was so happy. I can't even tell you the endorphin high
I got out of singing every day. And then another miracle happened: I met Kara DioGuardi. Kara DioGuardi was also a gift
that "Chicago" gave me. She's an amazing songwriter, producer. Some of you may know her
from being a judge on American Idol. And our dance captain,
Greg Butler from "Chicago" said, "You would love Kara -
you should meet her." And we met. And she said to me,
"Rita, tell me something. What is it that you want?" And I said, "Oh my gosh, Kara,
there's that question again. I would love to be a songwriter. I would love to write,
but I don't play an instrument. I don't do that. I don't read music like you do." And she says, "I don't play instruments
or read music either." She asked me a question: "Do you have something you want to say?" And I said that I have a lot
that I want to say. So she said, "You know what? I'm going to write
those first two songs with you." And she brought in
another writer, Jason Reeves, and we wrote my first two songs. After that, I started coming to Nashville, and I met an incredible community
of musicians that I write with, here in this amazing town of yours. And it was in 2015, when I was working
on my first album of original music, things that I had written, that I heard the words
that you never want to hear: "You have cancer." Couldn't believe it. You have cancer. I was doing a play on Broadway,
and it shocked me. And I thought to myself, "This is what happens. Every day is one day at a time." But I also knew - even though I was going to have a bilateral mastectomy
and reconstruction - that there were some things
I had to get off my chest. (Laughter) And I had to ask myself "What do I want?" And so, I had some things that I wanted. I wanted to have
some discussions with my family. I wanted to talk to my husband. And I told my husband
that I wanted two things: that if I were to die before him, that I wanted him to be very sad
for a very long time (Laughter) and that I also wanted to have a party. I wanted to have a celebration. I wanted it to be about life and joy
and telling stories and having sparklers and having a good time! Because I had found joy. I was happy. I was happy to be alive. I was happy to be songwriting. I was happy to have found my passion. Now my parents, they came to this country. They exhibited enormous, enormous courage. My dad knew what he wanted. He wanted to be free. He wanted to live in America. My mom knew that she wanted
to come home. Now I'm not at all equating
the risks that my parents took to the risk of being able to say
you want to write music. But sometimes it feels that way. When I sign CDs after a show,
and people come up to me and they say, "I can't believe you're doing this now. This is so incredible. I've always wanted to ... "
and then fill in the blank. Because we get the message
somewhere in our life that you're joyfully saying,
"I love singing," and somebody goes, "You can't sing. You're tone-deaf." Or you're dancing,
and you're having the best time, and everybody's like,
"You have two left feet." Or you say to your parents,
"I want to be a poet." They say, "If you're going to be a poet,
I'm not paying for you to go to college." And those dreams are squashed, and you're put into your corner, and you go off and you do something else. And maybe you're not that happy. And maybe that little dream
is still living inside of you. And that, to me, was what I had found. I was lucky enough to find that
and answer that question. Music gives me joy - I chose this picture because this is exactly what I feel like
in my body when I'm singing. It is an exhilaration. It's never too late to find out
what it is that you want. At that songwriting camp that I did - you saw that picture with all
these amazing Nashville songwriters - I had this title of a song
that was about that experience, about what it was that I wanted if I were to go
before my husband and family. And I was able and lucky enough to write it with Kristian Bush
and Liz Rose, two amazing songwriters. I'm going to sing that song for you. But as we're setting up, I want you to think about
what it is that you want. Ask yourself that question. You may know it instantly. It may take you three months,
three years to come up with the answer. But I want you to know
that it's never too late to ask yourself that question: "What do I do want?" Thank you. (Applause)
