NYC | Hamilton Tears
I cry a lot. I cry during happy commercials. I cry every single time a member of our military returns from deployment and surprises their family. I cry when someone wins any amount of money on television or radio. My tears and my face are best friends, y'all. I'm a cryer.
However, I fully did not expect to just start bawling during Hamilton.
I'm talking, we are three minutes into the very first song and I am in absolute tears, taking off my glasses, wiping my eyes and sniffling.
Backing up a little bit, my first Hamilton experience was when the original Broadway cast performed during the 2016 Grammys. I mean, I had heard of the whole Hamilton idea, but I didn't know-know. As a history buff and a theatre-goer, I was hooked, shook and began playing the album pretty much every day of my life.
Never got tired of it. Not ever.
Cut to nearly two years later, this past Christmas season is winding down and I'm cleaning up the kitchen after family had visited.
Alexa, our living room robot, starts blasting Hamilton, unprompted.
Coach walks in, smiles, and says, "It's going to be really awesome when we see them perform this in June, right?"
EXCUSE ME?
This guy, who I am in a mutual agreement to not buy Christmas gifts with, got us both Hamilton in NYC tickets. I've never felt so shamed and happy all at once.
And so began an anxious six months of very loud Broadway car singing preparation. Bless my heart.
Back to New York: I rented the most Hamilton-esque dress Rent the Runway had to offer and we both got all dolled-up for our 8 p.m. show. Us and a hundred or so other folks lined up outside and began the quick chaos of making our way into Richard Rogers Theatre. As far as lines go, not a bad one to be in. We were a pretty excited and joyful group.
I had never seen a performance in New York. Coach had barely seen a show, ever. The expectations were very high and it met and exceeded every single one of them. I can't even really put into words what it felt like seeing this performance. "Everything" is all I could come up with. The show is everything.
The moment tears rolled down my face, again...three minutes into the first song, began with the lines,
"You could never back down | You never learned to take your time."
It's not a particularly moving moment of lyrics for me, but it was the visual that meant so much. The entire cast, sans-Hamilton, is lined up at the front of the stage, side-by-side. Seeing a stage where every cast member is a person of color, belting out our American history in the most poetic way was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.
This show means so much. It means more opportunity for talented actors. It means we can grapple with the truths of our country's beginning. It means you can rap inside a show tune in a musical. It means one of my future sons can star as a British/French/Scottish founding father of America on a Broadway stage, no matter who they look like.
In that tear-filled moment, it truly meant everything to me.
What an age, to live in Lin-Manuel Miranda's time. The show is a work of genius and to witness it all was completely magical. You leave longing for more, yet feel as if you've had just enough. You will hum and smile and walk out of the theatre beaming.
If you ever have the opportunity, do not throw away your shot.
