To Break a Leg or to Break His Heart

When it was that my 14-year-old son first became interested in theater, I can’t quite recall.  That alone makes me feel guilty.  Some Moms have every moment recorded and permanently engraved in their memory bank.  Those Moms would remember the exact little phrase that their child uttered to spark within them that instinct that Mothers’ have. That instinct that would relay the idea, the thought, that their child would enjoy acting, singing, being on stage, or whatever it is that they ultimately enjoy.  I don’t remember it.

In my son’s first few productions as a 9-10 year old, he was cast in great minor roles.  Absolutely perfect roles for him, really.  A handful of lines, plenty of time on stage, nothing earth-moving that would affect his ability to do homework or cut into his other interests: guitar lessons, tae kwon do, football.

Fast forward 4 years later.  We are now heavily immersed in the theater world and at times have a rehearsal schedule that runs 5 nights per week.  On this particular night, my son gets into the car after an intense rehearsal for “Les Miserables”, and is absolutely ELATED. He has five solo parts and is embedded now into the musical structure of this very involved performance.  This is his second musical.  Musicals.  He had NEVER wanted to do a musical.  It took some coaxing…

“Give it a try-you’ll never know unless you give it a try” I had said.

“But I have never SANG in front of anyone before.  I’m not sure if singing is my thing” he grimaced.

 Now, after getting into the front seat of the car, my son tells me how much he is in love with this play, no, no…not a play…an OPERA.  The way the music all comes together has really touched him and now he is talking and explaining it to me at a rapid fire pace and then he says:

“I have officially decided, Mom.  I want to be an actor.  I want to act, I want to sing, I want ALL of it. I want to go to the best acting school on the East Coast (which, by the way, is a bazillion dollars a semester).  I will work very hard.  I will get a scholarship”…

Digression:  I entered the word “scholarship” into my childrens' vocabulary at 18 months of age.  They have both been saying “scholarship” for almost as long as they have been calling me “Mama”. “Mama”, “Dada”, “milk”, “juice”, “scholarship”…first words. Not joking.

So… now… in light of my son’s epiphany, this conversation can go one of three ways:

1)      I could react the way my body is begging me to react and  SCREAM!!…. Scream outloud:  NO…NO… NO WAY!!! YOU WILL STARVE!...YOUR KIDS WILL STARVE!...You will wind up a defeated waiter looking for your ‘big break’ that will never materialize”…Red lights start flashing and I hear something inside my own head that sounds just like: “Danger, Danger, Danger, Will Robinson!”

2)      I could gush: “Of course my sweetheart, YOU will be the best actor the world has ever seen.  Another Laurence Olivier, Sidney Poitier OR even a Clint Eastwood (his idol).  I will support you to the moon and back. I know you will be successful! I know you can do it.”

3)      I could calmly and with reserved enthusiasm say: “You are a very talented actor and singer.  If that is what you choose to pursue, then I am on board.  I have faith in you.  But, I have to say, because the success rate for working actors is low, there must be a PLAN B.  Something to fall back on in the event things do not work out as planned.  And you will have to do your part. You will need to most certainly maintain great grades at school, keep up with theater productions, and create a resume that is so impressive that that BIG EAST COAST THEATER SCHOOL cannot say ‘No’. Otherwise, it won’t happen.”

So…I went with number 3.  Did he look a tad deflated? …Yup.  Did it seem to inspire him and light a fire in his belly?...I hope so. It seemed to.

Will my son become an actor, singer, theater star, Oscar winner?  Who knows?  Maybe next month he’ll want to be an architect.  Something inside me says that he has made his decision.  This I will remember forever.

I reflect back now on the reaction that I could have had.  I could have literally broken his heart.  I also could have given him unrealistic fluff.  I really wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him that we were never going back to the theater again. What good would that do?  As it is with every decision we make as parents, the verdict is out.  We will not know the result of our words and actions (or lack thereof) for many years to come.

That, is ultimately, what parenting is.  Not knowing if we’re doing it right.  It’s like a grand experiment on growing human subjects.  Big stuff. 

I think the fact that we question ourselves on a regular basis is a good thing.  It humanizes us.  I think the most vital thing to remember is whether you are a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, friend, etc., that every word you utter and every action you display can impact children and their path in life.  So choose carefully, thoughtfully and lovingly.

Break a leg, Baby!

Screw the Fairy Tale

I am a very lucky mother of two children, with a no-nonsense approach to parenting. I find myself in an almost constant state of struggle with the notion that both of my kids will wind up seeking psychotherapy, someday, in my honor.  This blog is my way of confessing my potential sins, in advance.

 My first born, is a son, my second born, a daughter. Both lovely kids.  I must say that early on, when I knew I was having a girl (and thrilled with the prospect), I had a very specific plan of attack.  One of my first strategic moves in the battle to raise a woman of independence, came in the form of my own "adaptation" of story telling.

I have always despised fairy tales.  Well...not always.  I remember loving them as a child.  The pretty dresses, the flowing hair, the handsome prince, the perfect breasts and waistlines. The magnificient endings that always saved the girl from the depths of despair. What's not to love? Right? As time passed, I began to realize just how non-fairy-tale-like things are.  Not because I personally have had a heart wrenching experience, but how the whole idea of life resembling a fairy tale might just set some of us up for a disappointment.

I have never read to my daughter the traditional "Cinderella", "Sleeping Beauty", "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs", or "Rapunzel" or any of the other well known tales that most parents read to their little girls. Not word for actual word, anyway.  I would always fudge the ending, just a little.

In our house, the following are the 'slight' edits that I feel offer a much more appropriate conclusion to the classic tales and also aid in successfully raising a girl that lives in this century. Cut to the endings:

Cinderella:  Before joining hands with her Prince Charming for their happy ending, Cinderella would share her dreams of launching and designing her own line of women's speciality footwear, capitalizing on her love of the glass slipper. There would be no "riding off into the sunset" until her dream was accomplished.  Then, and only then, they could settle down and do what happy, royal couples do.

Snow White: Once freed from the clutches of the evil witch's spell, Snow White expresses her idea to the Prince of starting her own organic (non-poisonous) apple orchard.  One that would produce many a yummy apple pie, candied apples, applesauce, and organic apple baby food, to keep all, throughout the land, healthy and happy.

Sleeping Beauty:  Princess Aurora does not marry Philip right away.  Instead she will pursue her PHD in Psychiatry with a focus in Sleep Disorders. Much better ending.

Rapunzel: After spending all that time in the Tower, Rapunzel opts for traveling the world, applying and getting accepted to law school, and successfully passing the bar before becoming a wife. Tucking her long locks into a professional chignon for court appearances.

Unconventional? Yes. Damaging? Hopefully not.

 My daughter, upon hearing these endings, snuggled in my lap or tucked tightly into bed, seemed just as satisfied as I once did with a 'happy ending'. A little smile would crinkle across her nose or she would expand on my ending using her own imagination. Sometimes, she would chuckle, probably at my craziness.

Today my daughter is a very sweet, caring 11-year-old.  Not unlike many other 11-year-old girls. I'm not trying to indicate that she is 'special'. She has no desire for make up, she thinks boys are 'creepy', she believes that Justin Beiber is a mutant, and pays no attention to the likes of Miley Cyrus or Lindsay Lohan.  She thinks dating is for when you are older, like, when you are college age.  She wants to be a farmer. She thinks for herself. She takes good care of herself and is keenly aware of others around her.

I hope her happy ending includes pushing herself to her full potential, finding a true love of life and doing what makes her harmoniously happy. I don't want her to feel the need to be 'saved' by someone else. If she decides to share all of those wonderful things with a partner, then all the better. I truly don't care who she selects for her partner, as long as they support her and love her and she is content.

I, of course, want this for both of my children. For all children, really.

The End.