She wrote Lin-Manuel Miranda a letter. Three years later he wrote back.
The world is smaller than you think — and that's the best news for any aspiring performer.
It started on the Fourth of July.
Hamilton had just dropped on Disney+ and we decided to watch it as a family. She was young and the story was long and hard to follow. We watched it again with subtitles. That time, she was hooked.
At Hamilton on Broadway
She'd been wearing her Peggy dress for months.
The soundtrack played relentlessly after that. Every car ride, every morning, every evening. She learned every song forward and backward. The world was shut down and we were all clinging to whatever we could. She clung to Hamilton. She even did virtual musical theater training that year, performing to a screen instead of a stage. But the love for it never wavered.
Then came In the Heights. Then Moana. Then Vivo. She began to notice something. Every single thing she loved had the same name attached to it. Lin-Manuel Miranda.
She started to research him the way only a deeply curious kid can. She learned he went to college, built relationships, tried things and failed, was hilarious and carefree. She saw someone who wrote and acted and composed and collaborated and showed up on Broadway and in movies and behind the scenes. Someone who told stories in new ways and brought people along with him. And she thought: that's the life I want. A life like Lin's.
The month we moved to Savannah, Broadway reopened after Covid. It was my 40th birthday and I decided to do something about it. I took my mom, my daughter, and myself to New York City. We saw the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall. We saw The Lion King. And we saw Hamilton at the Richard Rodgers Theater on Broadway.
She had been parading around in her Peggy dress for months. When we sat down in our seats the little girl next to her looked over and genuinely believed she was the real Peggy Schuyler. My daughter beamed. That moment lives in my memory as one of those parenting gifts you didn't plan for.
She was so moved by everything Lin-Manuel Miranda had created that when we got home she sat down and wrote him a letter. She told him about her dreams. She told him how his music had found her during the loneliest year of her life and lit something up inside her.
And then she checked the mailbox. Every day. For almost three years.
The letter. Now framed. On her wall.
The letter came.
From the desk of Lin-Manuel Miranda. Handwritten. To her, by name.
Thank you kindly for your thoughtful note. Your support of Hamilton and In the Heights means the world. I am humbled to read how deeply you connect to the music. I wish you a bright and successful future! Happy Trails! Siempre, Lin.
She framed it and put it on her wall. It's still there.
Leslie Odom Jr.
Aaron Burr himself, right here in Savannah at SCAD
Around that same time SCAD was hosting a series of In Conversation events. Book releases with extraordinary people from the theater world. Leslie Odom Jr., who originated the role of Aaron Burr in Hamilton, hosted conversations with authors whose stories mirrored what she was searching for. Larger than life names becoming human right in front of her. People with similar journeys. Similar doubts. Similar dreams they just refused to put down.
Each one confirmed the same thing: the people who made it were not so different from her. They just kept going.
"For Tenley — a future Lin-Manuel in the making!"
Then came the Lin-Manuel Miranda biography. We went to the book release event and she came away with another handwritten inscription from the author. "For Tenley, a future Lin-Manuel in the making! Hope you embrace the joy of the collaborative process!"
Another connection. Another confirmation she was on the right path.
But she had one more question. The examples she kept finding were men. She needed to know. Can a girl do this too?
The answer was Shaina Taub.
Shaina wrote the book, music, and lyrics for Suffs, a Tony Award winning Broadway musical about the women's suffrage movement. An all female creative team. An all female cast. A woman who didn't just perform but built something entirely her own.
And here's where the world got wonderfully small.
Shaina Taub grew up in Vermont. The college I work for is in Vermont. My co-worker was on the casting team for a production of Annie at a local theater there, and a young Shaina Taub was in it.
At Suffs, a Tony Award winning musical written entirely by a woman. The answer to "can a girl do this too?"
Big names come from small cities. Big names come to Savannah. The world is not as large as it seems from the outside.
We went to see Suffs in Greenville, South Carolina. My daughter sat in that audience and watched women do exactly what she wants to do. She cried. So did I.
As Maui in Moana Jr. — performing music written by her idol, on a Savannah stage.
Last year she was cast as Maui in Moana Jr. The role was extra special for reasons that should be obvious by now. She stood on that stage and performed music written by her idol. Every line felt like a full circle moment.
And just a few days ago I was sitting on the beach on Tybee Island with a friend. She mentioned she was going to see her uncle's new play in Chicago this summer. Her uncle is Mark Hollman, the musical writer behind the Broadway show Urinetown.
Just like that. On a beach in Savannah.
Every connection we make here reminds her that her dreams are within reach. That the people who have done what she wants to do are people just like her. People who started somewhere, kept going, and never stopped building.
So for now she keeps creating. Keeps growing. Keeps showing up.
Next step? Possibly SCAD. We've heard rumors they may be launching a BFA in Musical Theater. Fingers crossed.
The world is smaller than you think. And for any aspiring performer out there, that is the very best news there is.