I Flash Back.
Shane will be in the school play. In fact, everyone who auditioned will be in the school play.
The director – who is a saint – decided to keep everybody who auditioned, and has created two separate casts so that more kids will have a chance to do their things. They’ll be performing on separate days/nights – but all kids will be in both casts.
To be quite honest, I don’t care at all that Shane has a minor role. If there were no minor roles, there would be no play. It’s not all about “being the star” on stage. It’s more about working together, being together, and creating something from nothing. It’s about starting with nothing but a script and a group of people, and making a whole show.
It’s about the kids having fun and making people smile.
I think Shane’s going to have a really good time being part of the cast, helping to make the play great, and hanging out with his friends after school. He’s going to be able to take a bow at the end, and hear the applause, and feel that surge of accomplishment from being a part of a team that’s created something great.
My only real concern is that – once again – all of Shane’s closest friends got lead roles. His two best friends got the two roles Shane wanted most. His other very close friend got the lead. Two female friends from his church group got lead roles.
Shane has some very fun, smart, and outgoing friends who are going to be marvelous on stage. I am thrilled for his friends. They are all great kids, and I’m really looking forward to seeing the play with them in it.
But I can’t help myself: I flash back.
All of Shane’s friends who got lead roles in the play … were also patrols in fifth grade. And Shane, who would have been a spectacular patrol, was not a patrol. It’s still painful for me to think about, even though Shane doesn’t talk about it anymore.
Shane’s a pretty happy kid, actually.
But I was not a happy kid. And I’ve realized that a lot of my angst over Shane’s being overlooked is just unresolved sadness from my own youth.
When I was growing up we moved, on average, every two years. As the “new kid,” I kept trying to reinvent myself. I figured eventually, I would get it right. I would somehow show up at a new school, and suddenly people would like me.
This finally happened – sort of – in college.
Before that, I was bullied, ignored, beaten, rejected and – most notably – silent. In 6th grade, I auditioned for the school talent show – and didn’t get in. In 8th grade, I auditioned for the school chorus – and didn’t get in. I joined sports teams in high school without auditions, but I spent most of my time on the bench.
I didn’t speak to anyone. I didn’t smile. And I sure didn’t go out of my way to be kind to people. I just wandered in, glanced around in a panic, and said nothing – did nothing – while waiting for someone to like me.
Looking back, I realize that I was never comfortable with myself as myself – which meant I let very few people know me.
But Shane is not like that. He is already content with who he is, a characteristic I so admire in him. He’s happy with his friends, his family, and his way of being.
And he should be, because Shane is a great kid.
I could learn a lot from him.