Heartwarming
I took my daughter to see Annie this weekend.
It was a production put on by my high school, so I knew it would be good.
(No, really. My high school produces some pretty incredible shows.)
I knew it would be good. I knew we'd have a good time. I knew she'd sing along and be enchanted by the kids on stage. I knew we'd be a little bit moved.
But what I didn't expect was what would move me.
See, I enjoy both the benefits and drawbacks of living in the shadow of my alma mater.
Benefits: I get to see people I know, often. And I can send my kids there.
Drawbacks: I have to see people I know, often. And I can send my kids there.
So I dressed for the evening expecting to see people I knew. (Always opt for the slimming when heading back to high school.) And it happened.
It happened at the ticket window (classmate) and in the bathroom (Latin teacher) and near the programs. (very extended family) It happened when we took our seats (preschool teacher) and then when the lights dimmed and the empty seats next to us filled up (family friends.) It happened every 20 seconds for the 20 minutes we sat waiting for curtain up - with my drama director and my softball coach and my computer teacher who to-this-very-day, 12.5 years after commencement, recites a little rhyme with my name in it. My friend the admissions director and my band director and ... everywhere I looked was someone with whom I'd had some kind of friendship during my many years in this place.
And with each new sighting or greeting, my heart got warmer and warmer, until I was just about ready to write the obscene check to enroll my daughter there full time- maybe just so that I can keep saying "my" around there.
Some of you are saying, "My, what is she talking about, I know how frustrated she's been with that school..." and it's true. Probably if I'd been at a football game this would be a completely different post, but it wasn't. It was my fine-artsy world, which remains untouched by scandal, cliques, and, sadly, by big money. It's the world where talent is sought out and developed and even the little fish can play.
There was great beauty in this audience of a thousand who gathered to support these hundred-or-so people who take a risk each year by throwing themselves on stage and performing their hearts out. It was my school at its purest. It was, by all definitions, heartwarming.
It was a production put on by my high school, so I knew it would be good.
(No, really. My high school produces some pretty incredible shows.)
I knew it would be good. I knew we'd have a good time. I knew she'd sing along and be enchanted by the kids on stage. I knew we'd be a little bit moved.
But what I didn't expect was what would move me.
See, I enjoy both the benefits and drawbacks of living in the shadow of my alma mater.
Benefits: I get to see people I know, often. And I can send my kids there.
Drawbacks: I have to see people I know, often. And I can send my kids there.
So I dressed for the evening expecting to see people I knew. (Always opt for the slimming when heading back to high school.) And it happened.
It happened at the ticket window (classmate) and in the bathroom (Latin teacher) and near the programs. (very extended family) It happened when we took our seats (preschool teacher) and then when the lights dimmed and the empty seats next to us filled up (family friends.) It happened every 20 seconds for the 20 minutes we sat waiting for curtain up - with my drama director and my softball coach and my computer teacher who to-this-very-day, 12.5 years after commencement, recites a little rhyme with my name in it. My friend the admissions director and my band director and ... everywhere I looked was someone with whom I'd had some kind of friendship during my many years in this place.
And with each new sighting or greeting, my heart got warmer and warmer, until I was just about ready to write the obscene check to enroll my daughter there full time- maybe just so that I can keep saying "my" around there.
Some of you are saying, "My, what is she talking about, I know how frustrated she's been with that school..." and it's true. Probably if I'd been at a football game this would be a completely different post, but it wasn't. It was my fine-artsy world, which remains untouched by scandal, cliques, and, sadly, by big money. It's the world where talent is sought out and developed and even the little fish can play.
There was great beauty in this audience of a thousand who gathered to support these hundred-or-so people who take a risk each year by throwing themselves on stage and performing their hearts out. It was my school at its purest. It was, by all definitions, heartwarming.
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PS thanks for the encouragement on my blog. I really needed it.