I am a 20-year-old (going on 21) college student who dedicates one month out of the year, out of the summer, to direct children’s theatre back home. I absolutely love the theatre and I love my theatre kids even more. They are young (5-14 years old), but talented. Some of these kids are the real deal. They can act, sing and dance. And they aren’t even in high school yet! I’ve been so blessed to have the opportunity to work with these kids. Some I’ve worked with for years. I’ve seen them stumble with lines, completely forget song lyrics and run into each other while staring at their feet, trying to remember the dance. I have a good sense of how my theatre kids are feeling (mostly because kids wear their hearts on their sleeves). But when they do mess up lines, blank on lyrics, or fall in a dance, I always ask them, “Are you okay?”
It’s a simple question, really. I don't ask in order to protect myself from any liability to injury at the theatre. Really, I don’t. They signed waivers. They signed contracts. I’m covered.
I ask because I genuinely care.
Every Summer, every day, I’m bonding with these kids. We’re exchanging laughs and making memories. It is understood that we are here together to put on a show, but I’m not their director and they’re not my actors. I’m not an adult and they’re not kids. We are friends.
Just last week, I had asked one of my theatre students if she was okay. Gabby had not been herself at rehearsal and I wasn't the only one picking up on it, either. She was quiet, as opposed to her usual gleeful attitude — reserved, not spirited. I was concerned because something clearly was the matter and it was bothering her. So I approached her, pulled her off the side and I asked her, “Are you okay?”
A simple question with a simple, unwanted answer. “I’m fine.”
There’s not much I can do with, “I’m fine.”
If a girl is bullying you, I can’t talk to her.
If a boy is bothering you, I can’t stop him.
I can take it as it is and leave it at that.
As your friend, I can’t leave it at that. As your friend, I feel obligated to help you. As your friend, I want you to be happy. I’m sad if they’re sad. I’m happy if they’re happy. That’s just the way things are with your friends.
As Gabby’s friend, I was persistent. I told her not to lie to me and asked again and got the same response. It wasn’t until after rehearsal that I finally got a viable answer. Something to work with. Unfortunately, it was nothing I could directly control or influence (middle school break-ups... what can you do?). But I knew what I could do to help her out the only way I knew how.
At rehearsal, I tried extra hard to make her laugh, encourage her if she needed help with lines, reminded her how well she was doing and how far she had come. And it wasn’t just me making the effort. All of our other friends were trying as well. We can do some awesome things when we work together. The important thing is that she allowed me and her other friends to help her, make her feel better. Even more so, I didn’t just let it go. I made an effort because I’m her friend. It’s important to me that she is happy. That all of my friends are happy.
So, friends like Gabby, don’t be afraid to open up and let your friends know what’s going on in your life, because trust me, they want nothing but your happiness.
And friends like me, don’t be afraid to ask the all-important question, “Are you okay?”
