Hope of America Again
I am very tired just now. I just got back from the annual Hope of America program. I was a little less stressed about it than last year, because this year I was only shepherding two kids instead of four. All the same inconveniences and annoyances were present. It was crowded and Gleek kept trying to dive through Gleek-sized holes in the crowd. If I was holding her hand, I could pull her back (much to her frustration. Could I not see the space?) If I was not holding her hand, I just had to call and try to keep her in sight as I wove through the crowd after her. I suspect that we were an annoyance to those seated around us, because for Gleek music is always participatory. She jumped. She clapped. She sang along. She declared her desire to be able to do every dance and perform every trick. (Especially the one where a girl somehow made five hula hoops look and move like bird wings. “Mom! I want five hula hoops!”) So I spent a good part of the evening like a record on repeat. “Don’t kick the seats in front of you.” “Sit down, the people behind us need to see.” “We need to calm it down a little.” “Shh! If you must sing, sing softly so the others can hear their kids.” Fortunately many of the numbers explicitly encouraged audience participation. Gleek particularly loved when the wave traveled around the stadium three or four times before petering out. After the show was over, Gleek and I climbed to the very top of the stadium. She sat there on the very highest bench and I swear her whole face glowed. She felt on top of the world. She danced all the way back to the car.
But the real reason we went to the show was for Link. He got to be part of the chorus this year. For five years Link watched other kids get to sit as part of the flag and shine lights. This was finally his turn. He was so excited that he lay out all his clothes last night. He was out of bed and dressed this morning before I’d even stumbled my way to the kitchen. My son, whom I have to scowl into mumbling along with the singing at church, was thrilled to spend hours practicing songs and the performing songs. This was his moment to shine a flashlight and wear sunglasses. He got to be cool. The press of people after the show was crazy. There are designated meeting places for parents to pick up their performing children. Teachers do their best to shepherd their students to the meeting spots, but it is a mad house. When Gleek and I arrived next to Link’s teacher, Link was not there. It was futile to go searching for him. Our best option was to wait. I could picture him lost in the crowd feeling anxious and scared. But when he turned up a few minutes later, he was grinning. He’d gone to the wrong meeting place, then found the right one. I have times when I really worry about Link. Then there are times like today when he demonstrates how much he is capable of accomplishing when the goal is something that he wants rather than something I think he ought to want.
This year’s program featured many beautiful dance numbers. I found it fascinating that every number which was not performed by a school class, was performed by a cultural minority group. There were Bolivian dances, salsa dances, sambas, traditional Mexican dances, two Native American dances, and a gospel singing group. I guess the one exception to this would be Jean’s Golden Girls which was a troupe of women aged 50 to 92. They perform every year and they are always good. 92 year old Jean always ends the performance with high kicks and the splits. It was fascinating to me to see all the school classes full of mostly white faces. And then see the dance troupes full of dark hair and brown skin. It was lovely to see these minority cultural traditions thriving in a location that is so overwhelmingly white.
I cried again. I always do, every year. How can I not cry when I see all the enthusiastic effort from all of those young performers? From the tiny kindergarteners who have to be herded into place by their teachers, to the self conscious middle schoolers who are afraid to look silly as they dance, to the chorus with their hand motions and flashlights. The event represents thousands, or perhaps even tens of thousands, of hours of preparation. The event got so big, that they now have half the schools performing one night and the other half performing on a different night. It is an amazing accomplishment and a beautiful expression of desire for a bright and beautiful future. This program is one that exposes kids to ideals they can strive for and dreams that they can reach. I know that both of my kids came home exhausted and inspired. … and singing that song about Abe Lincoln that none of us can get out of our heads. I just wish they could remember more than the chorus.