The Courage Show

We were talking about talent, weren't we?
Okay - we weren't talking so much as you were reading and I was languishing in another crevice of nostalgia. The reason for me to have brought up my experience with the cartooning class approximately one million years ago when I was in sixth grade was this: I spend most of my waking hours around children. The vast majority of them are well below the age of puberty, and sometimes I marvel at the formation of the fragile egos.
Kids can be cruel. I will wait patiently for you to recall the person in your life who found that one thing about yourself and shouted it out for the rest of the world. Remember that? Boys can usually remember the moment when it wasn't okay to get a kiss or a hug from mom out in front of the school. Girls can give the name of the boy who told them he really liked them, but you didn't really like him "that way." And all of the other sundry pitfalls that come before, during, and after.
In the meantime, take a moment to savor these guileless moments from my Saturday afternoon: A kindergartener who wore a grass skirt and carried his wooden staff as he pantomimed "The Circle of Life" from "The Lion King." A third grade boy who sang the theme to one of his favorite TV shows - a capella. He wasn't sure he wanted to do it at first. He had to go out and come back in again, but when he did, he walked up on the stage and just sang from his heart. As the director of the variety show at my son's school I have seen lots of child performers. The most precocious ones don't do much for me. It's the ones who haven't felt the sting of peer pressure yet. By fifth grade we usually get groups of kids who want to lip-synch to whatever the pop flavor of the month that will pass the stodgy old director's ears.
Sometimes we slip and we call it a "Talent Show." The truth is, we don't require talent. All we require is courage.