Parenting, Broadway, and 'Ragtime'

Fifteen years ago, a Broadway debut kicked off the annual family holiday craziness that hasn't stopped since

Fifteen years ago tonight, our son Ben made his Broadway debut in the revival of “Ragtime” — the end of one journey and the start of another.

My wife, Jill, and I were in the audience, seated in orchestra center with lumps in our throats and tears not far behind. The show had formally opened the previous week, but as the understudy, he had not yet gone on in New York or during the Kennedy Center run that started us down this path.

At the time, many people did not understand that our son — not us — was leading this charge for him to be on stage. Jill and I were determined to allow our kids to pursue their interests. We decided to do whatever it took to help them build successful lives, even if that involved moving a sixth-grader to New York while continuing to raise his two sisters (Kate and Emma) in Northern Virginia and my son from a first marriage (Nick) who lived in North Carolina.

Throughout the fall of 2009, Jill and I passed each other while traveling on buses and trains from D.C. to New York. One of us would spend three days at home with the girls and in our offices while the other would schlep him back and forth and telecommute from a tiny one-bedroom apartment. It was an adventure that served as the impetus for this blog — “Our Reality Show.”

Each anniversary, I search through the photos and repost the one that John Mara — the child guardian on “Ragtime” — took of our son’s first Broadway bow. But I did not revisit the essay I wrote after his debut for a number of years. What appears below was written on Nov. 23, 2009.

“In 1902, Father built a house on the crest of the Broadview Avenue hill. ... And all our family's days would be warm and fair.” — The Little Boy, opening lines of “Ragtime.”

The curtain opened and there stood my son, opening the first Saturday night performance — not counting previews — of Broadway’s new revival of “Ragtime.” It had been a long journey to this point, and as Jill and I sat on the 7th row in the orchestra section, we were more nervous than Ben was.

Arms interlocked, fingers crossed, tears filling our eyes, we watched as he maneuvered across the stage in the show’s stirring opening number. And just like you see in the movies, I found myself flashing back to that day in March when I took him to the understudy audition at the Kennedy Center.

“And there was distant music…”

At the time, we didn’t know if he had the vocal chops for the part, especially since the role called for performing with a 28-piece orchestra. And precedent was working against him; he had what he thought was a Kennedy Center jinx because some of his worst auditions had occurred there.

“Do your best,” I told him, as we do at every audition. “As long as you do your best, everything else will take care of itself.” I recognize those are clichés, but we say them with all due sincerity, because that’s all we require of him as we make this journey.

That day, we also came up with a new, more straightforward motto: “Kick ass. Take names. Have fun.” Perhaps not the most politically correct thing to say to an 11-year-old, but we say it anyway. And he did and does to this day.

For all of the hard work and sacrifice that this requires on the part of everyone in our family, you have to keep the “fun” part in perspective. After all, he’s still a kid, and this is an adventure equal to any rollercoaster ride you can find in any theme park.

Or, as he says, “You know what the worst part about boredom is? It’s boring.”

This has been anything but boring.

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The Long Game View

Looking back on that night in the present day, I’m grateful that Jill and I managed to take the long game view of parenting, even when we struggled to stay afloat in the moment.

You might wonder what I mean by “long game view.” Our approach was to give them experiences, not “stuff.” (Raising four children — three born within a calendar year — was certainly an “experience” on its own accord.) The rest of it was simple math.

As parents, you’re in charge of a child’s well-being for the first 18 years of his/her/their life. At that point, the next steps are up to them. The long game means you are consciously focusing not just on the time they will live under your roof, but on the relationship that — barring tragedy — will last two or three times longer than those first 18 years. That’s ultimately good for all concerned, I think.

It's not perfect. Nothing is when it comes to parenting, but I’m grateful to have solid, loving relationships with all four of our adult children. As our annual familial holiday/birthday craziness begins — Thanksgiving, all four kids’ birthdays in December (five counting Kate’s husband, Matthew), Christmas and New Year’s — I am eternally grateful.

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A Short Film

In honor of this evening, I wanted to share a snapshot of how we knew our son was going to be an actor. During the Kennedy Center run of “Ragtime,” Ben started making movies with Christopher Cox, who he was understudying.

Most were Nerf War videos filmed with a point-and-shoot digital camera. Chris wrote and directed most of the early shorts, but Ben started making his own films after learning how to edit on iMovie. This is “Broadway Spoofs,” a loving “tribute” to three shows and the always-present at the time “High School Musical” series.

Click on the button below to watch this 3-minute short. And just like you, I’m still waiting for the sequel.