I've Got the Music In Me

Thursday night was one of the most surreal nights of my life. There I was, sitting in the auditorium at Pantego Christian Academy, looking at the program for the Talent Express and there it was, in bold, black letters:

Act 7 - Cheyenne Parish and Darcy Todd singing "You're Not Alone" (except unfortunately, but not surprisingly, the program actually said "Your Not Alone" so I fumed for a minute or two and then got over it).

How did I, the one person in the Hackney family who always hated (and avoided) performing in front of anyone (including her own parents), manage to produce a child who makes taking the stage look as effortless as taking a breath?

I often think about how I allow fear to reign in certain corners of my life, and I even resolve to let God take control of my fears . . . but, no, you'll never catch me auditioning for American Idol! (And believe me when I say, at this stage in Darcy's life an audition about six years from now would not be wholly unexpected!)

I wish to goodness that I had a photo of her up on that big, scary stage, but I volunteered to check the performers in (that was a fun job--I could have done that all night) but now that I have a fancy-schmancy camera, I was afraid of it getting lost in the shuffle so I didn't even bring it with me. (I should mention that Randy and the boys were at Tyler's baseball practice and, sadly, got to the talent show just in time to hear Darcy and Chey warble their last few notes; hence, Randy could not play cameraman for the evening.)

My other job of the evening was to sit in the section where the performers were to sit after completing their act. As the music teacher put it, I was to "keep the kids quiet" and above all, not allow them to blow the train whistle that they were given on their way offstage as a token of remembrance for the evening. (Get it? Talent Express? Train whistle? Yeah, I thought it was a bit of a stretch too.)

I should mention that I was the ONLY adult selected for crowd control--am I that much of a sucker?? At first my job was pretty easy because a lot of the younger performers merely drifted back to where their parents were sitting. But pretty soon there was a collection of adrenaline-charged 4th and 5th graders who seemed to forget that they were nervous just moments ago, and who likewise had trouble appreciating the fact that there were still acts to come who were not lucky enough to be feeling the effects of an adrenaline rush. In short, they were noisy! And I noticed that there was a group of much younger kids to my right for whom I was not technically responsible but who were inexplicably seated together, away from their parents, and at times they became completely rowdy.

Did I mention I was the only adult on duty? Call me an old fuddy-duddy, but I take my volunteer jobs seriously and I'm sure I seemed like a big ol' wet blanket to some of the kids after I shushed them for the eleventy-fifth time. I don't think I breathed a bigger sigh of relief than when the specialty teachers got up and performed a rousing medley of dance tunes while encouraging everyone in the audience to get up and dance with them! Indeed, I think the biggest highlight of my night was not seeing my ten-year-old daughter clutching a microphone onstage, but seeing her with all her friends and the rest of the kids at PCA, jumping and clapping and swaying with abandon and without reserve. Now THAT was fun.