Letter to Family and Friends

Dear Families, 

Before the Curtain Rises

There is something that happens in the weeks before a musical performance that most audiences never see – and in many ways, it's the most important part.

I know this from the inside. For many years I have performed in choirs, music theatre and as part of the chorus of State Opera South Australia. What the audience experiences on the night – the polish, the confidence, the moments that make you laugh or cry – is built on weeks of repetition, correction, and quiet perseverance. There are rehearsals where nothing seems to come together. Moments where the harmonies don't work, where cues are missed, where everyone wonders silently whether it will all be ready in time. But it always comes together.

Our school musical is just seven weeks away from being on stage. Every day, in classrooms and other rehearsal spaces, children are learning lines, finding their voices, stepping into roles that challenge them, and staff are pouring energy and encouragement into bringing it all together.

For our Year 6 students, the journey began near the start of the year with auditions – learning lines, preparing, and then delivering them in a no-doubt nerve-racking experience. It  takes real courage for anyone, let alone a primary school student. Some will have walked away with the role they hoped for. Others will have been disappointed. Both experiences matter.

Disappointment is something we don't always know how to sit with, and as parents it can be hard to watch our children navigate it. But learning to respond to an outcome that isn't what we hoped for with grace, with resilience, and with the willingness to contribute wholeheartedly anyway is one of life's most important lessons. A child who auditioned bravely and then threw themselves into a different role with generosity of spirit has achieved something genuinely significant, even if it doesn't feel that way in the moment.

And many of you have already been part of this, perhaps without thinking of it that way. If you sat at the kitchen table helping your child run their lines before the audition, you were investing in their courage. If you are now helping them learn their dialogue and music for the role they received, you are part of the rehearsal process too – the unseen, unglamorous, essential work that makes the performance possible.

This is where character is formed. Resilience is not built in the moment of triumph – it is built in the Monday afternoon rehearsal when you get it wrong for the fifth time and choose to try again. Courage is not standing in the spotlight; it is walking into the audition room not knowing whether you can do it. Community is not the curtain call – it is the hundreds of small moments of encouragement between staff, students and parents as they figure it out together.

I encourage you to ask your child about rehearsals – not just "how did it go?" but "what was hard today?" and "what are you getting better at?" Celebrate the effort, not just the outcome. The performance in Week 10 will be wonderful. But the growth happening right now is the real triumph.

Blessings,

Michael Denholm

Business Manager