Guts

Grit. Iron. Moxey. Cahonies. What does that mean to you?

When I was growing up, I thought it meant being brave in the face of physical danger. To prove my bravery to myself and my compadres, I would climb the highest tree, or jump from a higher limb than anyone else. I would drive the fastest on the ATV or hold my breath the longest underwater.

But deep down, I was scared. Not of physical pain but of emotional trauma. I was scared of people, of social situations. I could do a backflip off of the diving board without blinking (and it WAS scary every time I made myself do it), but I would hide in the woods rather than face a room full of strangers.

This weekend, I witnessed a different kind of courage. The kind that I did NOT have, growing up.

Savannah stayed with me Sat and Sun night. I was scheduled to drop her off at her audition on Sunday afternoon. This was to be her first REAL audition....I'm talking singing with piano accompaniment and an unrehearsed script reading in front of strangers. Scary stuff. Stuff I wouldn't have dreamed of doing at her age. At ANY age.

We spent Saturday evening picking raspberries and walking the dogs. Later, we watched "The Village" and ate fried raspberry pies with ice cream. It was a fun girls night in. Throughout the evening, I would ask Savannah questions about the audition. Was she nervous? Did she need help practicing her song? Each time, she would calmly reply that she was looking forward to it and ready to go. Alrighty, then. I tried not to let on how nervous that I was for her! I tossed and turned all that night, having nightmares about not getting her to the theatre on time, or forgetting her sheet music, etc. She slept like a lamb and was cheerfully ready-to-roll the next morning.

After a breakfast of raspberry pancakes, we headed off to the audition.

We sat there and watched as kids came filing in, singly and in groups. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. These kids were like Broadway professionals. Try to imagine sitting there and watching as the crowd of mostly 12-14 yr olds gathered. With each new arrival there were rounds of hugs and compliments showered upon one another, lots of lip gloss and eye shadow and dramatic accessories; high heels, artsy outfits and lively discussion of previous performances, dance classes and shared accquaintances. Meanwhile there I sat with Savannah, dressed in her simple t-shirt, khaki shorts and comfortable sneakers, hair demurely pulled back in a headband, filling out her paperwork and reading over her lines quiet as a mouse. We got a few curious glances, but were mostly ignored in the bustle. Savannah was not oblivious to what was going on around her; I could see that. She took it all in. But in the face of this daunting crowd, she was as stalwart as a general on the battlefield.


At this point, two courses of action were in my head. The first and strongest impulse was to gather her up and RUN away back to my house in the mountains, never to return to the theatre---or the outside world for that matter---thereby saving her from any emotional trauma. EVER. The second was to immediatley begin giving her advice on how to handle these wolves, er, I mean kids. What to say, how to get "in" with them. Which ones to AVOID being friendly with, etc.

In the end, I just sat there. This was her battle and she was obviously willing to fight it. She was nervous, yes. But she was ready. She was NOT there for the other kids and she was not going to be intimidated by them. She was there to peform. She was there to learn. She was there because she loves it. So we just sat there. Guts, man. Pure. Guts.

I didn't get to see her audition, as it was behind closed doors. When she came out, she seemed a bit preoccupied but still cool as a cucumber. She simply said it went "Okay". Tough nut to crack, that one.

After costume measurements were taken, the group was herded into the auditorium and given a crash course on one of the meticuloulsy choreographed dance routines. I was able to watch a little of it. This was not elementary stuff they were learning. It was not easy. When she came out, she admitted that it was hard but smiled, all the same, and said that it had been fun!

That evening, over chocolate fondue and "King Kong", I kept trying to get her to open up a little further about the audition, gently plying her for more info. She didn't have much to say, other than that she was definitley looking forward to the next day. And when the next day came, she was sure enough ready to roll. And sure enough ready for me to drop her off...and LEAVE. She thanked me sincerely, gave me a hug and basically, very sweetly-----dismissed me. I drove away praying hard for her.

The courage to face new tasks, new social situations. Puttng yourself in uncomfortable, potentially embarassing circumstances in order to learn and grow. Now THAT's the kind of guts that gets you somewhere in life!

She found out Monday that she has been chosen for a speaking part in the play. She's gotten to know a few of the kids and is having a wonderful time of it.

It occured to me later that by the time all was said and done, Savannah would get to know the kids in this class and make some friends, too. She would meet new people and learn and have fun. She always does, in every class/activity she's ever been involved with. Her opinion of the other kids was not automatically jaded by their appearance or experience or idle chatter, as mine was. So I kept my opinions about the other kids to myself. I did, very non-chalantly of course, share with her the little bit of "insider" info that I gathered by covertly watching the other kids fill out there bio sheets. Names, ages, experience, etc. I let this information slip out casually in hopes that it will come back to her if she should need it. Hey, it's always good to know who you're hyena's, um, I mean FRIENDS really are, right? *wink-wink* ;0)

I just finished reading Melissa's post on the same subject (great minds think alike, ROFL!!!) and Savannah was SO right on her judgement of Mr. Thirty-something (who's actually 18--don't ask me how I know that). Not only is she gutsy, she's perceptive, too! The girl's gonna go far!