“I’m a writer, not a choreographer.” That’s what I would say when anyone would ask me to volunteer to be a skit director in my kids’ elementary school show.
The “Tuscan Show” is a long-standing tradition where I live in Maplewood, New Jersey. Thanks to the Midtown Direct train, you can be in New York City in about 30 minutes, which makes our neighborhood a go-to for creative class professionals: dancers, musicians, directors, producers, lighting experts, set designers, filmmakers … you get the idea.
Put on by parent volunteers, many of whom work in the entertainment business, ours is no ordinary elementary school show!
When my daughter – now a high school freshman – was in the third grade, I agreed to “co-direct” a skit with a good friend of mine who went to school for dance and performed professionally before an injury forced a career change. I was comfortable being her business manager (emails, scheduling, money collection, attendance, etc.) while she did the vast majority of the creative work (choreography, props, costumes, etc.). Being a skit director was a serious time commitment, but the payoff was always worth it. I got to bask in the glow of my co-director’s talent when the kids’ hard work over a few months would turn into a spectacular two-and-a-half-minute performance.
I played that role for five straight years until my friend no longer had children in elementary school. But I still had two years to go with my younger son. The following year, she came back and choreographed a “boy bands” skit we filmed outdoors. It was 2021, peak COVID era, and there was no way we were doing our normal three-live-show routine. I stepped up and ran some rehearsals without her, but the stakes were relatively low. Being married to someone who can edit video took the pressure off.
That said, I decided then that I would not volunteer to direct a skit for a live performance again. Even though it was my son’s final year in elementary school, it was time to let someone with real choreography skills direct him.
Fast forward to registration for the 2022 Tuscan Show. When I was checking out the skit options for my son, I noticed a good friend of mine was directing all by herself. The theme of the show was “Jersey Strong” and skit directors had to choose musicians or topics related to the Garden State. I had no idea The Sugarhilll Gang was from Englewood, New Jersey, but my friend chose Rapper’s Delight, which is one of my all-time favorite songs. That night, I sheepishly sent her a text message to see if she would be interested in a partner in crime.
We jumped in not fully knowing who would do what or how it would all come together. Half our kids had never done the show before and a few didn’t know anyone else. When we started rehearsals, we weren’t allowed to be in the school, so we had to conduct the first few virtually. Week by week, we figured out the choreography together. I’ll admit I lost some shut-eye over the moves and I occasionally fell asleep to the beat of our song.
In the end, I came to realize just how much I learned through osmosis over those years as a trusty business manager. It turns out I sort of know how to keep an eight-count and create “stage pictures”! We owe a debt of gratitude to the dancers who put hip-hop tutorials on YouTube! And also to my former co-director who came to a rehearsal and helped us tweak a few things, including our entrance. Plus, my co-director did a brilliant job with props and costumes.
Our cast ultimately deserves the lion’s share of the credit. These kids have been through so much over the last two years. They worked really hard (they never complained *too loudly* about our extended and extra rehearsals!) and each member made an important contribution. When it came time to perform live, they exceeded our expectations. Here’s the final product!
Now that it’s over, I can’t believe I almost didn’t do it. Walking home from the final performance, my son said to me, “Mom, I think you’re better at this than you think you are.” I don’t think it gets any sweeter than that.
Let this experience always remind me that when you step outside your comfort zone – which gets harder to do as you get older – good things can happen. And my creativity need not be limited by my own self-doubt.