A Night for Jason: the name of a variety show my high school has put on every single year for almost 30 years. The title “variety show” really doesn’t do it justice, though. It’s much more than that. Each year, students, teachers, and faculty alike work their butts off for many months to put on an amazing show. And what’s better — all of the proceeds, every single dollar, goes to an organization called Friends of Karen, which helps families who have children with life-threatening illnesses both financially and emotionally. You see, this show started because of a beautiful boy named Jason Mariano who lost his fight against leukemia way too young. And every year for the last 30 years, people from all backgrounds and situations have come together to raise money for families dealing with these struggles — struggles that no family should ever have to go through. And you bet we have fun doing it.

In honor of the 30th anniversary of A Night for Jason coming up, I thought I would take this opportunity to thank it for all it has done for me. I participated in the show during my sophomore, junior, and senior years of high school. God only knows how I got the courage to audition in 10th grade, being the shy, anxious, introverted-to-the-max kid that I was (shout-out to my best-friend-who’s-more-like-a-cousin for literally dragging me into the auditorium that day), but I can’t even imagine my life if I hadn’t been a part of it. And this goes for anyone who’s ever been a part of something that changed their life, that made them feel like they were someone, that gave them a home.

I owe so much of my growth as a person to this show, and especially the advisor of it, Ms. Urbinati. Urbie — I’m so thankful that you let this awkward, auditioning-behind-the-curtain mess of a performer onto this show about five years ago (whoa, I can’t believe it’s been that long). You saw something in me, and it’s because of you that I was able to see my potential as a singer and to start believing in myself (even if I did forget the words on-stage during my first show). You do so much and you sacrifice so much for so many people every year, and this show would not be even close to what it has become without you. I don’t think I could ever express how much you’ve impacted my life, and I owe so much to you. Thank you.

I’ll never forget the months of putting N4J together during my senior year. I think I was in a perpetual state of denial that this was coming to an end. Crying at every rehearsal, crying just thinking about it, and being literally the only happy person who worked on the show when we found out it was going to be postponed about a month because of a snowstorm. I would have prolonged that experience forever if I could have — and I was so grateful to have just a few more weeks working and laughing with all of the incredible people I got to know through it. And of course, we can’t forget about Hell Week. This is the week of the show, when we have dress rehearsals pretty much every day, pretty much from the end of the school day until 11 o’clock at night. Most people hated this week — it was mentally and physically draining for sure. But these weeks, especially the one during my last year, were the best weeks of my life. I would’ve stayed until 5 o’clock in the morning if they let me. I loved every single second of working on that show, even if my crying 24/7 made it seem otherwise.

I’ll never forget the impact that A Night for Jason had on me, the cries we shared together, the laughs, the late nights, the kick-ass performances we put on, even the fights. Each part of it was a part I wouldn’t have traded for anything. Most people would say that we were the ones giving, that we were the ones doing something for others. And we were, no doubt. We were doing something amazing. But really, N4J was the one doing something for us. It gave us all a voice, a place, a family. When I was incapable of lifting myself up, these people did it for me. I’d never met a more encouraging, inspiring, selfless group of people in my entire life. You guys know who you are. Thank you.

I could probably write a novel about this, but I’ll try to wrap it up here. For all my fellow N4J-ers, I love you all and you take up a huge place in my heart. For all the Comsewogue-ians, past, present, and future, I hope A Night for Jason has the same impact on you that it’s had on me. And to those of you who have no idea what N4J means, and to those of you who can’t even pronounce Comsewogue, just think of it as this: Comsewogue is your neighborhood, the familiar hallways and streets, and N4J is that thing you became a part of that really became a part of you instead.