First Person: My ‘American Idol’ Experience, by Allison Iraheta

The 15th and final bittersweet season of American Idol is almost over, and all season long, Yahoo Music’s Reality Rocks has been asking alumni to share their stories. Today, Season 8’s Allison Iraheta, who was 16 when she competed on the show seven years ago and now sings with Idol musical director Rickey Minor’s house band, pens one of the most candid and in-depth essays yet.

I was 16 when I auditioned for American Idol. My one goal was to make it to Hollywood Week, and somehow I did. And I kept moving up. Round after round. I had no idea what that meant for me, and I was in no way prepared for what would come.

At the beginning, I was a terrified Salvadoran teenager from South Central Los Angeles. My family and I drove up to San Francisco and slept overnight on the sidewalk outside where the auditions were being held the next day. Every song I had ever sung, and the dreams of my entire family, kept my mind racing all night. I didn’t sleep at all.

American Idol is the Cinderella story. It changes lives. It’s about taking someone from nothing and turning everything upside down into complete perfection, preferably in the fastest way possible. Even in my deepest imagination, I had no idea that life like this really existed for people. As I started to move up, I would notice different things. Food was different, and there was a lot of it. Clothes were new (and expensive!). Hotels were something out of magazine covers, and there were trees and grass everywhere! I wasn’t the only one who noticed. My mom didn’t want Idol viewers to see our home in South Central, so somehow we rented a house in Downey, which is a nicer, less hostile suburb of Los Angeles, while we were shooting Idol. So… I was from Downey.

There’s no room or time in TV for middle ground. Pretty appropriate for a teenager, if you think about it. I remember thinking that all the hair and makeup artists, the clothing designers, and the occasional free phone and iPod were all just what people got for singing outside the world I was raised in. As a teen, it was easy for me to believe that all of these new things around me were normal for people who sing on television! It wasn’t until years later that I realized the reality between someone trying to make it as an artist versus someone being on a show is very, very different.

There definitely wasn’t enough time to figure out what kind of an artist I wanted to be. I had red hair and a raspy voice; therefore, I was the “rocker chick.” It wasn’t a problem for me at all because I just wanted to sing. I also didn’t mind the producers of the show making decisions for me. I didn’t know who I was, but I knew that I wanted to have fun more than anything. I was completely aware that I was in the best place a 16-year-old could possibly be.

The coolest and most talented people I had ever met at that time in my life were my fellow contestants. I never felt competitive with any of them. They were like older brothers and sisters to me, and I wanted to hang out with them all of the time. I wanted to be as cool and as interesting as them, but my mom had other plans. When you are a minor on television, a parent has to be with you at all times, and my mom and I were always together. Where I grew up, it wasn’t a great idea to let kids spend much time by themselves. So, it would make sense that Mom wasn’t having any of me hanging out with the other contestants without her. She was wonderful with everyone at Idol and was well-liked, but she laid down the law when it was just us. I wasn’t allowed to be alone with anyone without her. I would usually get a break from her when I had school. (Spoiler alert: School for people on television isn’t like school for everybody else.) It was on location wherever Idol took us, and it was a welcome distraction. I could also squeeze out some alone time to meet with my coaches on the show, and yes, sometimes I would disappear. I was rebellious. The more my mother protected me from the world, the more I threw myself at it. I pretty much did all the things my mother was trying to protect me from.

One night, when we were living in the mansion (MANSION?!), Adam Lambert offered to help me dye my hair. Just a side note: Adam’s a thoughtful artist and a kind, supportive friend. But I digress… He was doing me a favor, so I was going to any length to make his life easier as he helped me out. His room was on the bottom floor of the mansion and there were many floors. (Why wouldn’t there be?) I had asked my mom if it was OK for me to go downstairs to Adam’s room so that he could dye my hair. She said no. I relayed the message to Adam, and he came all the way up to ask my mom if it was OK for him to dye my hair in his room. I wish I could have taken a picture of the look my mom gave him. I sure as hell felt the temperature in the room go up. She smiled with nervous energy and said, “No, you can do it here,” with a slight Salvadoran accent. Adam was confused. We all knew he was gay — what could possibly be going on in my mom’s head? Well, Adam was like a rare creature to my mom. Culturally, this was a new thing for her, and she was just scared for her daughter to be in the presence of anything different.

Don’t get me wrong; my mom LOVED and LOVES Adam. It was as simple as him being a man and me being a girl. I’ll never forget what he told her, and to this day I laugh so hard just thinking about it. “What am I going to do, Sara?!” Adam said. “I like boys!” My mom’s face only got more and more confused. “I’m gay!!” he said. My mom fake-laughed her way through that very painful exchange and we still ended up doing my hair upstairs, in front of my mother.

I carried myself with a lot of humor back then, but also with a healthy degree of self-doubt. I had been singing my whole life and even won another televised competition in Mexico a year before, but to me, that wasn’t enough to meet the expectations of the people around me. I even think that one of the reasons I wasn’t competitive with the other contestants was that they were all just so good. I had the support of my entire family, and people everywhere started telling me that I was “the best” and could potentially win. But just like me, they had no idea what this lifestyle entailed. As time went on, I got closer and closer to everyone around me. Megan Joy and Lil Rounds taught me how to be a woman, giving me the ability to speak my mind but also the self-respect that comes from showing up and doing my job. Adam would show me melody changes that would showcase my voice better than just singing the songs as-is that were chosen for the show. Kris Allen would often encourage me to play guitar when I sang and would even take the time to teach me how. Every day on social media somebody tells me how special Season 8 was, and I have to agree. I mean, these people weren’t backstage planning ways to get people eliminated. They were literally teaching me guitar and finding ways for me to sound my best.

Then there were Dorian Holley, Michael Orland, and Debra Byrd. They were my vocal coaches, but they were always reminding me why I was there and how to protect my voice. The closer I got to these incredibly talented human beings, the more they steered me in the direction of listening and challenging myself. I don’t think I really knew what the true meaning behind self-worth and caring for myself was until I met these people. Not that I didn’t have people around already showing me; this was just the first time I was ready to listen. I saw the contestants all fighting for something and it made me think about what I was fighting for. I felt the connection my coaches all had with songs and it made me think about what the connection with a song meant to me. I really did grow up on this show. I went through so many changes. It was confusing, terrifying, and over too soon. There was so much information all around me that the most I could take in was for the adult I was yet to become.

It was top four week (Rock Week), and this was the first time I had decided to really leave my mark. I wanted to do “Cry Baby” by Janis Joplin. The song made me cry the first time I heard it, and I was in this soulful, rock-type vibe at the time. It felt like home for my voice. Executive producer Ken Warwick didn’t agree, and suggested I do “Somebody to Love” by Jefferson Airplane instead. This was that moment in a teen’s life where all the signs point to an easier road, but you just want to take that scary road because it’s the first time you are making a decision for yourself and you want to swing for the fences. What’s that one called again? Oh yeah. PRIDE. It didn’t help that my mom really wanted me to do Ken’s choice, too. That made me want to do “Cry Baby” even more. It was a very hard week for me. I felt like I was upsetting everyone around me, but I didn’t budge.

Show day came and I was starting to feel sick to my stomach. Why did I push for this? What was I thinking?!!! I didn’t want Ken to think I didn’t take his song choice into consideration. I mean, I loved every word that came out of that guy’s mouth. I felt horrible. I cried a lot before that show. I can still remember Dorian talking to me and telling me to put all that emotion into the song and to feel good about my decision. Or at least he said something like that. What I really remember was me crying and him supporting me. I felt his encouragement and got myself together. He helped me warm my voice up and I was up next.

That day already had a dark cloud over it. Our stage manager, Debbie Williams, had fallen off of the stairs directly above where we were doing our dress rehearsal. We were in line behind the American Idol walls to lead us to main stage when we all heard screaming and saw the whole terrible thing happen right before our eyes. Poor thing fell 20 feet. It was awful. We canceled dress rehearsal. We also had some issues with the American Idol logo orb. If I remember correctly, it was sparking and barely hanging on. The whole day felt a little haunted, honestly. I’m probably saying “haunted” because I remember my mom doing the sign of the cross over and over and over and over again.

It wasn’t my song choice that was upsetting me; I was upset because I felt that maybe I was premature in making my own decisions and terrified that I made myself look like a prima donna. It’s possible that I was on my period that week, too, because I was extra-stubborn. The regret felt like a crumbling building falling on my head. I was extremely sad when I was eliminated. Mostly sad to be leaving the people I had bonded with. Fortunately, it was only for a week or so, because we were all back for the finale. I genuinely was happy with how far I got, but I desperately wanted to stay around all those great people.

Fast-forward however many years it’s been, and people still come up to me and tell me that they loved my version of “Cry Baby.” Actually, the day I got eliminated, Simon Cowell pulled me aside and told me that he watched the show back and realized that I did a much better job than he thought live, which meant a lot. That’s the thing about live TV. Sometimes things feel good immediately, and sometimes it takes a few times to hear something clearly. Now, I feel good about sticking with my decision on that one. It probably cost me the competition, but I think it paved the way for how I see my life as an artist and the lengths that I will go to be heard.

My Idol story has continued to evolve over the years. Yes, I was very fortunate to release a major-label album, Just Like You, that did well, and I traveled the world. When I started to write for my next album, I was becoming an adult. I wanted to know if I had missed any steps along the way after jumping straight in feet-first. I had been very fortunate to continue a friendship and professional relationship with Rickey Minor, Idol’s music director for Season 8, and sang many times with his band and different artists on The Tonight Show. One day he asked me to come in as a background vocalist for Idol. I did not hesitate before I said, “Yes, absolutely!” I knew this would mean going back and facing some of my more horrible memories and fears (some real, some imaginary), but that wouldn’t stop me from working with these incredible musicians and having this opportunity that a lot of people would have to fight like hell to have. The musicians in the band are some of the best musicians in the world. Taking a year or two to perform with them and learn from them is something I will never regret and I wish for any artist or singer.

I’ll never forget my first day coming in as a background vocalist. I had to take a few minutes with myself in my car before walking in. I was again terrified, small, and full of self-doubt. But I was walking in as a completely different person. I felt more of a responsibility to be an extremely professional musician, although I was carrying a tremendous amount of worry that the small, scared, unsure version of myself would reappear. It took me a while, but I got the hang of it. I learned to be the proud version of who I am now, and before I knew it, I realized that I was in the presence of family. Everyone I knew was full of love and happiness to see me working in the band. It wasn’t long before Ryan Seacrest gave me a shout-out and I was singing with J.Lo on the show. My intention was to be as low-profile as possible. Honestly, I didn’t know how people were going to feel about an Idol contestant singing BGVs on the same show. Of course, I knew it was a major victory.

This is my second year singing background vocals for the show and working with Rickey Minor and the band. It has been one of the most beautiful gifts that time and growth can give. Being on the other side makes me see that no matter how old or young you are, we are all just trying to figure it out and do the best we can. Especially on a show like American Idol. It was important for me to realize that there is so much more on the other side of it. There are components to everything to make it all happen.

Idol has developed a reputation of putting artists out too soon and building them up too big before they have a chance to get great. While there is some truth to that, I can honestly say that American Idol changed my life and continues to change it every day. My new band, Halo Circus, has had tremendous support from the music community and even the Grammys. Deep in my heart I know that wouldn’t be possible without having been on Idol. I wouldn’t be the artist I am without working with everyone that crossed my path on that show. Everyone that I met at Idol and have mentioned in this piece taught me how to think for myself and how to live with my decisions. They taught me how to be right-sized and to know what I’m fighting for. I’m not Cinderella, but I’m still standing. Still in love with music and in love with life. Grateful.