My youngest has always had a creative side to him. When he was younger, he’d sit in his room and write, and write, and write. When he shared what he was working on, he’d essentially written several TV episodes, a season or twos worth. It was a story line he had in his head that he just had to get out on paper.

While very impressive, when I tried reading the dialogue and tried to understand what was going on, it was hard to follow. I told this to me son (gently), and he understood saying what connected things (stage direction, narration, cues) was in this head.

He has been in theatre for the past several years. His school has a well respected program that teaches students not only to act, but do set production, tech crew, be a playwright, producer, and more. They really help prepare all students interested in pursuing this field.

He took a play writing course in the Spring. He and his peers submitted their plays, which included stage direction, narration, and acting cues that he’d previously left out (or been unaware of how to integrate into his TV episodes years earlier). All submissions (approx. 16) were handed in and then a brief segment acted out from each during a playwright’s workshop. They announced at the workshop they’d select around half the shows to be performed (in full) in the Fall showcase. My son was excited to submit his play, see part of it acted out then, with hopes of having his script being selected and the entire play come to life in the Fall show.

The beginning of school brought new hope and anxiety for my youngest — a new grade with harder classes, and waiting to see if his script was picked for the Fall show. Thankfully within the first two weeks of school they made the announcement. I was anxiously awaiting his arrival home the day he would find out. “Well, did your show get picked?,” I asked. He acted disappointed, and while I’d prepared for this scenario, there was something about his body language that clued me into him trying to trick me into thinking it hadn’t, when it had. “Your play got picked didn’t it?” I said. After a pause and one last attempt to make a sad face, his mouth broke into a wide smile. “Yes! They announced my play last! I was sure I wasn’t going to get picked.” He beamed. You could see how much this meant to him. It validated his passion, and his work (and the love he’d put into it). This acknowledgment made my son practically burst with pride and his capabilities. I couldn’t have been prouder, or happier for him.

He has been walking on air a bit since the announcement. It’s been a confidence boost to him. He now is starting to think like a director, producer, and playwright — wanting to work with the director (a fellow student (as no playwright directs their own show) — to ensure his vision for the show is realized. I’m excited for him.

It’s not often in life we get positive reinforcement doing the things we love. The acknowledgment is helping my son come into his own — realizing he does have talents (beyond what mom, dad, and close family and friends tell him). It’s a gift when this happens. Rare and wonderful.

What is your child’s passion? How has it been acknowledged?