WAY back in the day, when my daughter was younger, she became enamored of the movie High School Musical. I have only myself to blame. I come from a long line of people who love musical theater in all its forms. If a movie includes well-choreographed moments of the entire cast breaking out into song [think Sound of Music, Grease, The Wiz, Purlie, Cinderella (this version is our favorite), West Side Story, HAMILTON (emphasis mine), Wicked (!) and more], I’m there — provided I can get my hands on a ticket.
My daughter fell hard for High School Musical. Much to the dismay of my husband and son, Alexandra learned all the choreography and could sing along to every song. Which she did. All the time. We could not escape and so, we joined in. (When I say “joined in” I mean, I learned all the choreography and words to the songs, my husband gave in and started tapping his foot, and my son quit leaving the room every time Alexandra burst into song.)
Thanks to that season in our family’s life, to this day, I have a hard time getting the song, “We’re All in This Together” out of my head. I have long since forgotten the choreography and the only words I can remember are often just the ones from the song’s title: we’re all in this together. Those words, and their tune, find their way to me at what seem to be the oddest times. Sometimes, they’re the first words I sing when I wake up in the morning. Other times, I remember the words as I’m driving to the grocery store. But I also remember those words when something someone says (on Facebook, in the news, in the comments section of an article I’m reading online, or even around my very own dinner table) rubs me the wrong way.
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