The Music Man

The Music Man. This weekend Bella takes the stage for her very last high school musical. Like with every performance, she is having a ball. She loves everything about these spring shows. Her mother, however, sitting out in the audience, is more than a little weepy this week.

2026 and 1993
can't believe i still have this!

Anyone whose ever had a senior doing something she or he loves for the very last time knows of what I write. This profound joy and sadness all tangled up together. It’s mostly about Bella. But, with this particular show, it’s also feeling like a full circle moment for me.

The Music Man is our last child’s last show, but 33 years ago in a small town—not Iowa, but Ohio—it was my first show. In 1993 at Chagrin Falls High School, I directed my very first musical and chose The Music Man. I selected this show because I had once been in it for about a minute, and that flimsy fact alone gave me at least a shred of much needed confidence. 

My 1993 cast of The Music Man

I was just out of college, just married, just teaching my first year of high school English when suddenly and somehow I was dubbed Director of the Theater Department. I had only the slightest experience, but when you are young and hungry (and don’t really have a choice as a brand new teacher) you say yes. To everything. To coaching and advising and, yes, even to directing a huge cast of kids on stage at a good size public high school with a history of stellar productions. 

Directors also have to paint!

Intimidated or not, I couldn’t believe the talent I was handed. These students were incredible. I didn’t know all that much about what I was doing, but I knew immediately that I had to steward this role well.  And I had to figure out pretty darn fast all the thousands of details directing a show required.

I was maybe 23 years old--just a few years older than the kids in my classroom and those up on the stage--and I wasn't all that sure of myself.  Honestly, I sometimes felt a little bit like Professor Harold Hill trying to convince everyone around me I was legit and there really would be a boys band! Rat-a-tat-tat! I certainly “didn’t know the territory.”  In so many ways I was forced to create my own “think system.” If I just thought myself capable and in control, maybe I would be. Maybe I would be able to pull this production off. There is something to that, you know—the whole “fake it till you make it” thing. Sometimes that actually is what life requires of us. At least a little.

I grew up a lot in those early years of teaching and directing. I was handed an enormous task and I couldn’t help but grow. It was seriously a situation of grow … or go. The school and parents had tremendously high standards. The show must be a success. That much was clear. 

The crew surprised me with this!

I didn’t know everything about directing, but I did know how to work hard. I knew how to push myself and those around me to perform. It has always been a deep and wily sort of wiring—part competitiveness and part pride, I’m sure. Not necessarily always healthy, but definitely helped get things done. Long days, late nights, lots of drama filled blood, sweat and tears. Poor Rick, he didn’t know what to do with his young wife who was so ridiculously wrapped up in her too many roles and responsibilities. 

The pressure was immense, but so was the support. I had incredible parents who came alongside me. They brought food and cups of tea and encouragement. They came to sew and paint and hammer and clap for us. They taught me so much about community and caring for one another. I didn't know it then, but these parents modeled for me the kind of mother I would one day want to be. 

Lynn and me opening night

My director of music, Lynn Kleinman, was another tremendous model for me. Lynn was brilliant and wise and so extraordinarily winsome. She was the very definition of grace under pressure.  A musical perfectionist, but so lovely and loving no one ever really felt like they were being worked too hard. We all adored her. The kids wanted to perform for her. She showed me what it was to love people right into their roles—to bring out their very best by being a cheerleader, not a chastiser. Oh, how I admired this woman; my mentor, my friend.

Strangely, what felt so daunting and monumental somehow materialized into pure magic. I fell absolutely in love with these kids, my creative team and my role as their director. I was hooked. The Music Man had me marching in the band and blowing the horn of high school theater loudly and for a good many years afterward. 

33 years later and I am a mom sitting out in the dark audience clapping for her youngest daughter who is about to be all done with this. Though I wish I had it in me to still be directing and cheering and pouring into a cast of kids, I have very few regrets. These three decades have been so full with my own lively cast of five children. I've had the chance to be their constant teacher, coach, and director as I did my best in my role of raising them to adulthood. It has been my favorite stage and the best show of my life.  That season of directing high school shows eventually came to an end, and, not to be too somber, but I cannot ignore the fact that this season of raising kids is also coming to a close. Bella will be off at college in a matter of months. My role as mother is definitely looking more and more different these days. 

When I think back to that young, overwhelmed and underprepared, high school director I was, I have only gratitude in my heart. I am so thankful for what that challenge taught me. Grateful for the things I learned about life, about myself, and even about being a mom who would need to direct and produce so many things for her next 30 years. Directing The Music Man at such a formative time provided a chance to tackle something big and new and to show myself that challenges can change us in ways that easy things never do. 

The Music Man was a mountain for me. And there have been many mountains since.  But so often the mountains we face end up being the very places we get to stand tall and strong and, even a little proud. Without doubt, our mountains tend, also, to provide the very best views. We must only be willing to climb.

Tonight, as a mom and member of the audience, I don’t have to climb, but only to clap. And that’s exactly what I’ll do for our darling, youngest daughter. With a heart bursting full of band music, I will count it my joy and I will clap and maybe even quietly march a little from my seat. 

Seventy-six trombones led the big parade

With a hundred and ten cornets close at hand

They were followed by rows and rows 

of the finest virtuosos

The cream of ev'ry famous band!

And finally, a shout out to social media which has allowed me to be a little connected with so many of those high school kids I directed way back when. Tagging a few of you here and hoping all of you librarians, pick-a-little ladies and traveling salesmen are doing well. Oh how I love occasionally getting a glimpse of your own grown up lives! xoxo