Our youngest daughter was a little disconcerted a couple of weeks ago when her high school musical finished its four-day run. Our daughter had stepped up, volunteering to serve as stage manager, working closely with the faculty directors, a cast of several dozen students and the stage crew, most of whom were older and had more experience in their roles. She briefly wondered if she had made a big mistake when, on the first or second day of auditions, one of the seniors who was trying out found out that our daughter, a freshman, was stage managing. “Good luck!” the senior said, in a tone that our daughter interpreted as more sarcastic than heartfelt. She persevered, and, by all accounts, did a good job. For three months, she took attendance, stopped and started the music for auditions and rehearsals, recorded blocking for the actors, carried messages and ran errands, cued actors and stood in for absent cast members and provided a shoulder and ear to students who needed them. She even got to set off the confetti cannon during the closing number. But when the show ended on its final night, none of the directors thanked her. They were busy congratulating the cast, especially the seniors who had just finished their high school theater careers. She felt a little overlooked. She’s a freshman, we reminded her. She has three more years to be thanked and congratulated. But there’s more to the story than that. Part of it is that she chose to be stage manager. It’s an important job, but it’s in the background. While the cast is on stage in shiny, sparkly costumes, she and the rest of the stage crew donned black clothing, the better to be invisible to the audience while moving set pieces between scenes. And, once she demonstrated that she could do the work, doing it became an expectation, not an extra. It’s one of those jobs that you know you are doing right when no one notices it. Because if you do it wrong, everyone will notice. Most of the jobs that keep everything running are like that, everything from our power grid to the distribution of food and consumer goods to our homes. I was only kidding a little when my brother babysat my children as babies and I told him it would be fine as long as the house didn’t burn down and everyone was still alive when we returned. Because doing it well gets no applause, but doing it badly can be catastrophic. The directors did thank my daughter, many times over the course of preparing for the play and again at end-of-show party two days later. We should all do the same: Take time notice all the good things we have overlooked because we expect them to be there, and give thanks.
About the Author Michelle Martin is staff writer at Chicago Catholic. Contact her at [email protected].