Your Star and My Star - Different...But The Same

Some parents beam proudly at their child’s straight-A report card.  Others brag about their kids’ athletic prowess.  Some parents focus on class rank or their kid running the student council.  All great achievements.  In our house, we’ve got performing arts.

Performing arts, you say?  There is no comparison between my kid scoring the winning touchdown in a state championship game and your kid singing in a musical!

And to anyone who carries that notion, I say, pshaw (“pshaw” being as theatrical a word as I can come up with!! Notice the extra exclamation marks, as well. Very dramatic.)  To that person, I feel confident in guessing they’d never been in a musical production; for if they had, they’d know that what goes into it and what comes out of it are the same elements of that winning football team: hard work, pursuit of excellence, personal bests, teamwork, and a shared vision of success.  Add in artistry and you have a better understanding why I beam for my kids when they’re on stage.

Thirty seconds left in the basketball game, your son’s team down by two.  Your son dribbles the ball down court, finds the open man, and makes a beautiful pass.  Twenty seconds left.  The ball is passed a few more times until the star forward on the team takes a shot.  He misses.  Your son grabs the rebound.  He dribbles forward.  Six seconds left.  The ball is tapped away by the opposition.  Rolling behind the three point line, your son throws himself after the ball.  With three seconds left, he grabs it off the floor, and, in a single motion, shoots the ball straight into the net.  Three! The buzzer goes off and screams of elation fill the stands.  And you sit there, so proud.

In my world, I watch as my son takes the stage.  He moves gracefully in the opening number, as if he were meant to dance.  His voice is strong and he leads his cast mates in a difficult song/dance routine involving three part harmony and tap dance.  As the show moves forward, one of the actor’s microphones cuts out and my son quickly, and in character, figures out way to grab the hand mic at the front of the stage and deliver it to the stranded actor without causing distraction.  The final number involves tumbling, lifts, and leaps off stage, all while singing the vocal equivalent of mountain climbing.  The last note is perfect.  The curtain closes and the crowd is on it feet in appreciation.  And I sit there, so proud.

But as a parent of any athlete knows, the games are the fun part.  The real work happens at practice.  1000 free throws.  Batting practice.  Running the cones.  Running.  And more running.  And then run some more.

In my world, we have classical dance classes and performance rehearsals which are comprised of physical and vocal reps. Stretching.  Vocal scales. Dress rehearsals.  Tech rehearsals.  Getting the routine right.  And doing it again.  And again.  And again.

I’m certain your coach is brilliant.  He knows each players' strengths and areas of growth.  He game plans a strategy like a chess master – seeing three moves ahead of the other guy.  He gets in his players heads, makes them work hard to be better.  He spends individual time with each player, teaching the basics.  He gives them encouragement and plants the seeds of faith that his way is the winning way. 

Our director performs a similar role.  He casts kids into rolls that both fit them and (maybe) stretch them.  His concept is played out on stage every performance.  He coaches the group and individuals within the group.  He is critical when he needs to be, but is gives the all-important encouragement that they need.  He asks them to trust each other and to trust him.  And they do.

Adults who were athletes frequently speak about the gifts they took from the game.  Beyond the physical conditioning, they relate their preparedness in further schooling and work experiences to the structure they learned in sports.  When things aren’t going as planned in life, they have perseverance 

Similarly, performing arts give kids lifelong lessons.  They, too, learn to be prepared and have the discipline to persevere in difficult circumstance because they were able to learn those skills while putting on a production.  The phrase “the show must go on” is truly a mantra among performers.  Further, these kids get experience speaking in front of a live audience, a skill that can be of use in the professional world every single day.  They understand teamwork, having a group goal, and the importance of every single person’s effort in a group. 

But, you say, performers don’t have the competitive edge.  They don’t have the “kill” instinct that pushes athletes to charge ahead full speed.  Athletes, as is the nature of sport, compete.  Performers don’t.

To that sentiment, I ask if you’ve ever seen an open audition session?  Have you witnessed a dance competition?  Have you been to a choral competition?  Forensics tournament?  While an athlete’s challenge is the win the game, the performer’s challenge is to be the best….the best ever…..every time.  Please tell me again how performers lack the competitive spirit.

These thoughts are not meant to take anything away from athletics (or academics or student government, etc.), but rather to promote the incredible experience that is the performing arts.  The next time you think to yourself how “cute” a musical performance at the local middle school or high school might be, please consider if you’d say the same thing about the football game the night before.  “Cute” is a wonderful term…but not for something as tough as performing can be. 

I love what performing has done for my kids.  And I know all the benefits will continue on into adulthood.  I’m so grateful they fell in love with performing and will encourage them for as long as they’re interested.  I guess there is one difference between athletes and performers... generally, there are no foam “we’re number one” fingers sold in the theater.  Maybe there should be.