When my Uncle Joe gets me a gift, itâs almost always music-related. Christmas 2005 was no different. I remember unwrapping Clay Aikenâs book âLearning to Sing,â admittedly perplexed. When it came to early seasons of âAmerican Idol,â I had voted for the âVelvet Teddybearâ Ruben Studdard. But hey, I thought, I could use some singing tips. (My 13-year-old self took the title quite literally.) But the thing about being 13, especially prior to the rise of smartphones, is you donât have many options for pastimes. So if a fresh book was near, I was likely to read it. It turned out the book was not vocal instructions, but a memoir. And there was more to Aiken than just an impressive voice and a bad haircut. I learned about his experience being bullied as a gay kid in the conservative South, and every time I saw him mentioned thereafter, I remembered the depth I learned about from reading his book.