When my 9-year-old daughter got a role in a local performance of Fiddler on the Roof, I was not fully paying attention. This turned out to be symbolic as the musical centers on a Girl Dad trying his best to listen, love, and not lose his mind while sharing a home with all women. Like Tevye, I am the only man living under my humble abode's roof, and some times the father brain gets fuzzy in such conditions.
Months ago, my eldest declared she got a role as one of Tevye's five daughters, the youngest, Bielke. My wife had told me about the auditon and my assumption was this was a grade school style showcase of the iconic story that I did not know or remember. If I watched Fiddler on the Roof before, it was lost in my memory. I might have been playing football with her younger sister when I received the details of this community production of Fiddler. So, that might explain why I also do not fully remember receiving the initial musical expectations - I was acting as a tackling dummy for Bielke's real life sister, who now has a Troy Polamalu jersey and it is the role of her lifetime. She puts that jersey on and her flowing Irish red hair transforms into the intimidating locks of a Hall of Fame Samoan safety.
Fierce.
Also fierce - Fiddler practice started in August. I learned that I needed to use my dependable Subaru to get my shining star where she needed to be. I learned that Tevye often talked to God about his unreliable horse. I found myself talking to God, driving my Outback all over the land, vaulted into the Theatre Dad Vortex. I then met the man who would take on Tevye and be my daughter's stage father. Prior to meeting this community member, my dear Bielke pointed out that Tevye and I shared striking similiarities - white guys with big beards (and hearts), not much hair on thy head (beauty), and she estimated we were around the same age (young).
When I shook his hand, I saw the similarity and we discovered we had spent about the same time on Earth. When I heard him sing, this similarity stopped like a defiant horse unwilling to go any further. This guy was good. In going on 10 years of driving my daughter far and wide, my stage has been the Subaru where I sing poorly, proudly, and passionately. Everything from the edited version of Bulls on Parade by Rage Against The Machine to John Denver's Country Roads. I'd like to think if I did anything in that ten years, I taught her to enjoy performing.
On the first Friday and Saturday of this November, three performances of Fiddler on the Roof took place @ the Pasquerilla Performing Arts Center on the UPJ campus. The enjoyment flowing from the crowd was indisputable. The talent on the stage was tremendous, led by a powerhouse Tevye. Hundreds of hours of practice led to an incredible testatment to local talent. All memories fade in time, but I hope to remember my community's Fiddler on the Roof the rest of my days and for all the right reasons.
Reason # 1: I am so proud of the daughter I drove home from the hospital almost a decade ago. I was not blasting Bull on Parade for that first transport. I was driving more like a grandpa who should have his license taken away. We made it home safe and it has been a glorious experience ever since - being her Dad. It did not surprise me at all by how joyfully she danced, how impassioned she sang, and how strongly she acted. In the hours leading up to the shows, I confidently repeated in my Dad brain "You got this girl". And sure enough, she did.
Reason #2: My daughter experienced the power of a community coming together. I cannot thank the Director enough for what I saw every time I picked my daughter up to take her home from practice - a genuine leader who guided, complimented, affirmed, and joked with the people dedicated to telling a story while he remained steadfast in detail and purpose. His commitment was inspiring. As the practices progressed, I would meet the cast of characters who became my daughter's stage family. I would commiserate with fellow Dads in the Theatre Vortex. Our family was invited to Friday night cast parties to share food, karaoke, and do an essential human thing - relax.
Thank you to all those who made Fiddler on the Roof what it was - a family. From the direction to the choreography to the actors - you welcomed a little girl into a creative process that is a testatement to an undeniable truth - when good people come together, great things can happen. And that is a standing ovation that goes way beyond the curtain call.
Reason #3: A small army of family and friends came out to support these performances. My kids have been blessed by four outrageous grandparents, who have done their fair share of driving around all over the place to help raise these wild childs. My daughters have grown up in a world where their grandparents were always there for them and that is an almost a decade long performance I will forever be grateful for. Over the course of this weekend's three shows, the audience included those four grandparents, teachers, aunts, uncles, cousins, a church family, the best man in my wedding and his family, godparents and friends. In a packed auditorium, a wolfpack of Stephenson supporters howled and hollered. An overjoyed recognition of all those who came out. If you saw me at Show #2 or Show #3, I wore shorts because I overheated at Show #1. I taught my daughter to enjoy performing. I taught myself, as a Dad in the vortex, if to be nothing else, be comfortable.
When the final show ended late Saturday night, the performing concluded but not the celebration. This might be the last time in my life I get invited to an after party with my kids that starts at 11PM. To Bigdogz Grill we go! (howl at the moon and thank God for daylight savings)
As Fiddler folk gathered, the room filled, a loud love for the arts. Overtop the noise, the Director did what directors do - got everyone's attention. In a heartfelt toast, he acknowledged what this community created and his appreciation for the effort, the grit, and the final product. And then in a theatrical breakout, the cast started to sing the musical's rallying cry, To Life. Like we did all weekend, my wife and I clapped thunderously and foot stomped triumphantly.
And in that moment, I was grateful for the wife who gave me two great kids. To Johnstown, our hometown, rooted in family and faith. To balancing life and letting the music speak for itself.
To being a Fiddler on the Roof.