Robert's class was beginning in just a few hours. He'd been optimistically hoping around forty students would enroll. This did not happen. He had almost no enrollments at all.

 

Everything was set in place. He'd booked the classroom. He'd chosen the music, the choreography, the monologues, everything he would teach these kiddos. He'd even convinced some of his Broadway colleagues—professional singers, actors, and dancers—to be at the class. These people generously carved time out of their busy schedules to mentor Robert's students for a whole day. Of course, there was just one problem. No students. 

 

With the clock ticking down, Robert felt that soupy-whirl of primal-dread-panic-shame-anxiety gurgling in his gut. But he was determined to turn things around, somehow. "I am not going to cancel this class due to low enrollment. Hell no." Robert's motto is, "If we're gonna be here, then we're gonna BE HERE." No matter what. His other motto is, "Some will dream and some will do the work."

 

Robert got to work.

 

He Googled and found a local public school, just a few blocks away. And then—because time was incredibly short—he literally ran down the street to the school. He galloped into the office and explained, "I'm doing a music theater workshop—like, really soon." He handed over some flyers and said, "It's going to be amazing. Please encourage your students to come. For free. No charge." He didn't care about turning a profit at this point. He just wanted students in the room. 

 

Robert's class wound up having about twelve beautiful students. Not as many as he hoped, but more than zero. It was enough. It was a start.

 

Three years later, Robert's classes are consistently sold out and packed to the brim—with a wait-list. Today (on this exact day) he's completing the final stop in a twelve-city workshop tour. (He's probably doing a kick-ball-change with the children as I type these words.)  Today, he's also the founder of Project Next Gen, a scholarship award for high school students who dream about performing on Broadway. (Specifically, this scholarship is for people of color, transgender artists, immigrant and refugee artists, and students from underrepresented neighborhoods and school districts. His mission is to bring more diversity to Broadway.) He's not just teaching classes. He's changing the industry. 

 

Every beautiful legacy begins with someone running down the street clutching a handful of flyers they printed at Fedex a few minutes earlier.

 

Every beautiful book begins with someone throwing their sweaty post-workout hair into a messy bun and sitting down and typing that first sentence. 

 

Every beautiful business begins with someone sending a few emails to friends and family to say, "Hi, so, I'm doing this new thing…"

 

Every handstand (as I am humbly learning right now) begins with forearm planks on the ground, over and over, building strength and structure so that one day, you can safely invert upside down.

 

If you're in the "running down the street" - "first sentence" - "first email" - "forearm plank" - phase of building your dream, be proud, and know, "This is how it all starts."

 

You get an exciting idea that won't leave you alone. You run down the street. You hand out free samples and free tickets. You have two attendees and then you have five and then ten. You put on a fantastic show regardless of how many people show up. You set things in motion. You keep going. 

 

This is it. This early step. This first attempt. This is real. This moment is a win.

 

This is how it all begins.

 

-Alex