Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner

I was supposed to be at Sabrina's school play tonight. Instead I sat on my couch in my jammies, cheering on a little car with big personality while stuffing my face with candy and potato chips. And while I really don't mind being spared the horrors of the Grade School Band, or having to listen to the same songs I've been hearing around the house for a month now, I am pissed off at how we came to be sitting in our living room watching a movie rather than in the high school auditorium watching the primary division put on a play about saving the environment.

Two long months of hard work and disappointment came to a head last night. As we were getting ready to head out, Sabrina sat in my lap and sobbed, finally exhausted by her prolonged effort to put a good face on the sheer injustice of it all. Diva Girl, you see, didn't get a part. While this was assuredly an injustice (more on that later), it would have hardly lead to our catastrophic meltdown. The problem was that, trying to placate Diva Girl after crushing her by not giving her a part, The Teacher made her The Understudy. Of every part in the class.

Sabrina is a fairly optimistic and naive little seven year-old. And she likes her teacher, who talked up the honour and responsiblity of being The Understudy. As a result, Diva Girl was proud of her “important” role in the play, and set about doing it justice. She learned "her" lines -- all of them, for all 7 parts. She stepped in for rehearsals when one of the actors was absent, and eventually tried on every role. She preferred the Butterfly or Owl parts, but happily confided in me that she didn't mind if she ended up being Skunk or Beaver. I don't think she ever really understood that in real life, The Understudy rarely gets a chance to jump in and save the show.

At yesterday's dress rehearsal, all the leads were present and accounted for and Diva Girl spent the entire show as a member of the chorus. It was then that she started to get the idea that she wouldn't be playing Butterfly, or Owl, or even Skunk. That she would be expected to simply wear her white shirt without any sort of special animal hat and blend in with the crowd. You might already realize this from her name, but Diva Girl? Not a fan of the blending.

So she embraced denial. At dinner she listed off for me all the different colours of shirt she needed to bring to make sure she was appropriately attired no matter what part she was called upon to take. When she went to her dress up box to dig out her butterfly wings "just in case," I knew I had to step in and burst her bubble.

"You know honey, I think you're just going to wear your white shirt. That's what the note said to wear as your costume."

"But Mama! That's just if I'm only in the chorus! If I'm Beaver or Owl I'll need a brown shirt. For Skunk we need to bring a black one! I need my green one for Frog. Wanna hear my French accent?"

"I'm sure you have a great French accent, baby. But I don't think you're going to need those costumes. And if you do, I'm sure Mrs N. can work something out."

My unwillingness to pack a large duffel bag fill of costume changes that she wouldn't need was the final blow to her reality distortion field, and she threw herself into my lap sobbing, "It's not fair!"

I tried to soothe her, using all of the proper adult arguments and rationalizations for such situations:

"Not everyone can have a turn." "Heather and Zoe and Sarah had turns last year and this year!"

"Lots of people wanted roles. You're not the only one left out." "Matty didn't want a role! Mrs N. made him do it! And Madison didn't even have a part to start!"

"I'm really proud of you. You worked really hard on this." "I did, Mama! I did work really hard. Harder than anybody else. And it's NOT FAIR!!!!"

The rub was, I agree with her. It wasn't fair that Heather and Zoe and Sarah got the leads two years in a row. It wasn't fair that she, who so desperately wanted a chance to shine, was passed over in favour of shy little Matty "because he needed it more." Even the kids like Diva Girl who naturally shine need a chance to be validated for it sometimes. And she did work harder than anyone else--she memorized the entire play. It wasn't fair.

And she was looking to me to make this right for her.

"Do you want me to talk to your teacher and tell her how you feel?" I asked her, wincing at the prospect of being "that" parent, but knowing that she needed to see me doing something.

"YES!" She turned her little tearstained face to me, her eyes alight with hope. "Let's go right now! And tell her to let me be the Butterfly." Clearly we had different ideas about the intent of the conversation, and it's probable outcome.

"I can't do that Diva Girl. I can tell her how upset you are that you don't have a part. But it wouldn't be fair to Heather to take away her part. She worked hard on it too."

"But not as hard as me!!! And I don't want to be in the chorus!!!"

I didn't know what to do to lessen the sting. I could see that this had to the potential to be her first defining Moment. You know the ones. The ones you can recall with total clarity and a visceral feeling of despair the unfairness of it all. The stories you tell your friends when you're sharing the ice cream container and the damage of your childhoods. I didn't want this to be her Moment.

"Well, you don't have to be in the chorus."

"Yes. Make Mrs N. give me part."

"I can't do that Sabrina. You can go to the play and maybe have a part, or be happy as part of the chorus. Or, you can stay home and we can have a movie night.We'll go out and get some chips and you can have Kool-Aid and maybe stay up late."

She chose the movie night. Not out of pique or a sense of punishing them by withdrawing her presence, but because the option of staying up past her bedtime, gorging herself on junk food, and watching a *gasp* PG movie was far more attractive to her than standing in the background singing her little heart out. Which is what I was banking on when I made the offer.

In the end, we had a really great night. I turned off the computer and refused to answer the phone. We hung out and connected in a way that wouldn't have happened if I'd been sitting in the audience and she'd been on stage. I know she would have been happier if I'd been cheering her on, but cheering on Herbie together was almost as good.

Monday I'm going to the school, and I'm going to try very hard not to be "that" parent. But Diva Girl is right. It's NOT fair. And nobody makes my baby cry.

Comments

I'm really surprised that you let her ditch out of the performance. This would have been an appropriate time for the "there are no small parts, only small players" line.

I too am surprised you let her back out. There's a lot of teamwork required in life and sometimes, some of us have to be part of the structure that doesn't get all the attention. Being part of that chorus would have given her the chance to see that you can make the best of a situation even if it's not your ideal.
Of course doing this one time won't form her opinions but I'd be careful about repeat performances, if you will. Sometimes we have to play the cards we're dealt, even if it's something as insignificant as a grade school play.

Don't sweat it, Mom. I think the idea of a girl's night was great. You did what you felt was best; don't second-guess yourself now. There's no manual that tells us how to raise our kids and if you felt in your heart that this was best then you did the right thing.

Good for you on figuring out that compromise! I'm not a parent, but I was definitely a kid like your DivaGirl -- often put in lower reading groups to "inspire" the kids who couldn't read as well, never getting the lead in the play because the shy kid "needed" it more, et cetera. While there are certainly times to buck up and support your friends, there's also a time to stop underachieving for someone else's good. That route leads only to undervaluing oneself. And your DivaGirl will get much more joy out of life if she seizes her spotlight when it's time, and takes care of herself when she needs to!

I've recently found out that I'm going to be a first time Mommy, and like yourself, I will be going it alone and proud. I love your blog by the way which I found by total fluke. It's a great inspiration to me. I totally agree with your decision about the performance. I was 'The Understudy' that was also made a member of the chorus. They gave me a triangle and boy did I make them pay for what they did to me, I'm surprised the parents didn't leave deaf. My mother loved it though just as much as I. I'd rather of stayed home given the choice. Diva Girl will appreciate what you did for her. You did right...!

That was a tough call but I think you did make a good decision! From what I can tell darling diva was likely a chorus member last year as well...so she deserves a night to shine (and even if that is just shining in your attention at home with snacks and herbie) I was a chorus member for my grades 1-6 plays, and all I wanted was one line in one play. But it was always the same kids who got to be the leads every year. And you know what? Life isn't fair, but at a time in life when your mom can at least try to right those wrongs, I say go for it!

Good for you for supporting Diva Girl in her moment of need. A good PG movie, the occasional junk food and a late night never hurt anyone but can mend a broken heart.

Hi, I think you did the right thing by your daughter. I have never had the exact situation as you, but at my childs elementary school the children that sell alot of stuff for the fundraiser get what is known as a "Mega party" and the children that do not sell ENOUGH or none at all do not get to go to the party and have to sit in the classroom with a teacher and read. I have always felt this to be a very cruel injustice. I also feel that children go to school for an education, not to peddle goods for the school. So, in an effort to right the wrong for my children (2 sons) on the day of the party I let them stay home, go out to eat for lunch, watch T.V. and play games all day!

kids are cruel and so are teachers the teachers play favorites. let the teacher know how you feel on the subject, but remember only you know what is best for your child. listen to your child and your heart and you will find your way.

WTG! Every once in a while it's good to know someone has your back, whether it's the "right" thing to do or not. You were there for her when she needed it. I will file this in my SuperMom memories for when my daughter gets older. Thanks.

I'm way late on this, just found this site and reading backlog. However...these are your kids, and your life...personally, advise me when I ask...but don't tell me I'm wrong about my kids. Your decision was perfect, in that she's your child and you know her better than anyone here.