"it's make your mamas proud time"


That title is from a line in the movie "Wreck it Ralph", but it seems fitting for a post capturing last night's Talent Show at our elementary school -- lots and lots of proud mamas {and dads} watching their kids perform up on stage.  It is not an easy thing to do, getting up in front of almost 700 people, putting yourself and your talents out there takes real courage.

On this blog, I purposefully stay away from sharing pieces of my children's lives that I feel are too personal.  I do it out of respect to their privacy, but I'm making an exception this time, because I want to remember just how this all felt. And I want Andrew to go back and read it when doubts creep up in the future.

 Last February, Andrew and I went on a little mother-son date night to watch the school talent show and then out to a nice dinner.  He wasn't performing, just going to watch friends. After the show he congratulated many of the performers as we made our way to the car.  I had my arm around his shoulders and could feel them hunching up.  I looked over at him and he was fighting back tears.  Tears of feeling left out.  Tears of wondering why no one asked him to be in an act. Tears of feeling like he didn't fit in.  The truth was he had really wanted to be on that stage and he had been waiting for someone to ask him.  He thought no one did because maybe he wasn't cool enough, or funny enough, or somehow worthy enough to be asked.  None of those things were true, of course.  I tried to tell him that if he didn't tell people he wanted to be in an act, or ask to join an act, there was no way they could know.  That didn't matter. In his eyes and heart he just wanted to be asked.  I tell you, my heart broke in a million pieces.  I cried that night after we got home for so many reasons, the biggest of which was Andrew's inability to see his own greatness.  This kid is SMART and crazy CREATIVE.  That he was waiting on someone else to validate that was so frustrating.  No matter how often we praise him as parents, it isn't enough to build him up and that is a hard lesson.  At the end of the day, he is a sensitive child that doubts himself sometimes and seeing so many other students be a part of something like a talent show only fueled that fire.

We talked that night about all the kids that did acts on their own, how they didn't need anyone to ask them to participate, they just signed up and did their own thing.  He said he wasn't sure what talent he could share on his own --  he didn't want to sing or dance, he doesn't play an instrument, and a comedy skit alone seemed daunting. I suggested he make one of his stop motion films.  No one had ever shared a movie at the talent show, he wasn't even sure they had the technical capabilities to do it in their auditorium but it was definitely the first idea that he had passion for and from that moment on he was determined to make it happen. He even wrote it down as his goal for the year during the first week of school. And last night, exactly one year later, he did.

As a parent there are so many things you hope to teach your children, so many lessons you spew out about self esteem and being in charge of your own happiness, etc. etc. but all those spoken lessons are only marginally effective, it is the real life experiences that matter far more.  Last night I didn't need to tell Andrew that he made it happen all on his own, that waiting in life for others to dictate what you can and can't be a part of isn't necessary, that when you want to achieve something you and you alone have the power to make it happen.  I didn't have to say any of it, because he knew.  He knew with every audience laugh at the perfecting timing in his film, with every parent and student that came up to him after the show to compliment and congratulate him, he knew with every whoop and whistle and clap that he's done something special, that he was original and creative and worthy.  My heart was very full as I sat in the front row, not watching the movie, but watching him in the wings on stage.  He was genuinely proud of himself.  It is a moment I hope never to forget.

He came on stage to introduce his film and here's what he said...
"Steven Spielberg was 16 when he wrote and directed his first film.  I've got him beat by 6 years.  I hope you enjoy the debut of my first movie."  

And you can too, right here....
Midnight in Mariemont from tessa on Vimeo.


PS. he's been very busy at work on a documentary film that will be featured in their DI tournament next week.  I will share that when I get the chance too! {after the competition!!}
Previous
Previous

My Sweet Savannah's PB2 Chocolate Chip Cookies

Next
Next

lately {in phone pics}