Yup, I cried my first night on Broadway.
If you love music, theater, singing, dancing, or big cities, make it a priority to see a Broadway show in the giant city otherwise known as the Big Apple.
The theaters are intimate. The talent is mind-blowing. The atmosphere is refreshing.
It’s an experience unlike any other—and one that will leave you craving more the moment you step back into reality.
During my time in New York, I had the opportunity to see a handful of shows with some pretty amazing friends. Dear Evan Hansen was my first taste of Broadway, and it certainly fed my appetite for more.
For those who don’t know me, I love theater, musicals, and almost any soundtrack I can sing along with.
Most people find that difficult to believe. I’ve been told that I don’t exactly scream “musical theater type.”
Being able to see Broadway shows in New York City was something I can now officially cross off my bucket list. But now that I’ve gotten my feet wet, I can assure you that I’ll be back.
About a year before the trip, I began listening to the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack on my trusty Amazon Music and instantly fell in love with it.
The music is fantastic, and the storytelling is inspiring.
However, it wasn’t until I saw the show that its entire message truly sank in.
I’m not afraid to admit it:
My first Broadway experience made me cry.
If you haven’t seen or heard of Dear Evan Hansen, I’ll do my best to give you the CliffsNotes version.
The show explores people, family, friendship, social media, and the complicated ways they intertwine in our lives. It looks at how people who are part of our daily routines can so easily feel ignored, bullied, unnoticed, or forgotten—and how often we take one another for granted.
We always seem to have no time for anything, yet we still want someone else to give us their time and notice us.
Meanwhile, we ignore the most important thing around us:
People.
The story focuses on several high school students and how they see themselves, where they fit in, and—more specifically—where they feel they don’t fit among their peers and families.
The main character, Evan Hansen, experiences severe social anxiety. His therapist asks him to write letters to himself as a way of helping him cope.
One of those letters ends up with a classmate named Connor, who later dies by suicide. When Connor’s parents discover the letter, they mistakenly believe their son wrote it to Evan.
Evan allows that misunderstanding to grow into a lie—at first, believing he’s offering Connor’s grieving family a happier picture of their son. But deep down, Evan is also receiving the attention, connection, and sense of belonging he has always wanted.
The lie quickly develops into a fabricated friendship between Evan and Connor—one Evan feels forced to maintain as the attention spreads through social media, classmates, and friends.
The story continues through highs and lows, new relationships, people falling in and out of love, and a family trying to find its way back to one another.
It brings many everyday issues from our distracted culture into the light.
We live in a world where face-to-face interaction seems to be dwindling rapidly, replaced by a digital Google machine that we’ve been convinced connects us to all our loved ones.
But does it?
We walk through school hallways, workplace stairwells, and neighborhood streets without knowing the real struggles carried by the people who pass beside us.
This show reminded me that life is too short not to reach out.
Find out how someone is truly feeling.
Don’t simply ask the standard question, “How’s your day?”
Ask sincerely. Ask because you genuinely care about the answer.
The next time you’re sitting at a lunch table, attending a meeting, eating at a restaurant, or standing around your workplace, notice the people around you.
Put down your phone.
Interact with the people in the here and now.
Ask questions.
Meet a stranger.
You never know what may be happening inside the mind of the person sitting right beside you.
