I settled down in my seat on the front row, waiting for the high school choir’s spring concert to begin. One of the perks of being the designated photographer for events is getting to sit up front and often tip-toeing around behind the scenes.

From that vantage point, one sees the preparation, nervousness and frantic activity that goes on before the curtain goes up, and it’s always amazing how poised young people appear when they’re on the stage performing.

As a parent in the audience, I think I was probably more nervous than my boys before a performance, starting with pre-school.

Over 20 years ago, I remember sitting in the audience at St. John’s School for Little Children, nervously waiting for a pre-school performance where our youngest boy was a ferocious, yet cuddly, lion.

All the parents were snapping away with their cameras as our boys and girls sang – a little off key – and growled and roared as jungle animals for their end-of-the-year performance. It wasn’t Shakespeare, but we thought they were absolutely wonderful.

Then we moved on to elementary school, and I’m still in awe of teachers who can take 25 first graders, somehow teach them speeches, songs and dance moves and then coax them onto a stage to perform for an audience.

In junior high, our middle son decided to try out for “Little Orphan Annie,” and he earned the role of the swaggering Daddy Warbucks, a little bit of a surprise as our son was a quiet, shy adolescent.

When he confidently marched out on to center stage, bellowing orders to the staff, I jumped back in my seat. I’d never seen this side of him, wondering how in the world his theater teacher, Ms. Wanda Harrell, coaxed that level of confidence out of him.

As he sang a solo to Annie, I quietly cried with pride, joy and appreciation for the wonderful opportunity he’d been given to express himself artistically and to be part of an ensemble that created magic on the stage.

Our youngest son was also interested in performing; and when my rebel landed the part of the conservative father in “Bye, Bye Birdie,” I laughed because he was definitely playing someone out of character. But when he sang to his stage children, I cried again, watching him push himself farther than he’d thought possible.

Both boys were active in theater at Austin High School, and although they didn’t have leads, they loved being part of the theater family, headed up by teachers Brad Cummons and Tress Kurzym. From there, they learned to love the behind-the-scenes aspect of a concert and live theater, connected to high school through the arts.

I remembered all those concerts and plays as I watched the teens on stage at Terry High. For this one night, they were part of a larger ensemble, expressing their feelings through song.

Choral director Rhonda Klutts coaxed music from the hearts of over 165 students at that concert, and their faces radiated with joy. Some will never sing on a stage again, but many will, either with a church, a community group or professionally.

For some, they’ll decide to add acting to singing, and their high school or college theater director will convince them to step into a fictional character’s shoes, just as fine arts teachers have been doing since the one-room schoolhouse days.

A love of music and the fine arts stays with youngsters their entire lives. That spark was ignited because a teacher encouraged them to step out in front of the lights and take a chance.

Dim the lights, please.

The magic’s about to begin.

This column originally appeared in The Fort Bend Herald.