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!