I went through many phases of “what I wanted to be when I grow up.” Loved dogs, so thought I wanted to be a veterinarian. Don’t love math and science, so I realized that dream was shattered. Loved drawing(I can draw a seriously mean bowl of fruit courtesy of art class at the Fair Lawn High School summer program), but had no aspirations of being Manet, so we moved on. Made a series of radio shows on my tape recorder (google to find out what that is). Interviewed family members and friends…that also went nowhere, put still enjoy listening to them (especially to those who are no longer with us.)

Then there was the ballet phase. Please stop laughing. In order to “girl up” her tomboy daughter, mom sent me to the Irene Fokine School of Dance. Please stop laughing, I can hear you. Black leotard, pink tights and pink Capezio ballet slippers. Yes, it looked as scary as it sounds. My teacher would not let me “hide my form” with a sweatshirt. Heavens no, let’s just take every tiny bit of self-esteem she has and let her prance around with the skinny Catholic girls who all had the same name or variation thereof. Kathy, Cathy, Katherine, Kristy, Christy, Christina and fat Jewish Banji with brown hair and child bearing hips. My dream of being a ballerina was crushed, brutally ripped from my grasp when I discovered that the performance of the Nutcracker was going to take place on Shabbos. And I was not given a part, which actually had nothing to do with it being on Shabbos but everything to do with the fact that I was as graceful as the dancing Hippos from Fantasia…good times.

And then there was Annie. Annie came to Broadway when I was 7. I was in love. Though some kids may think the concept of a show about orphans might be depressing, I embraced it. Having a blonde older sister and a blonde younger brother, I always thought I was adopted anyway. I wanted to be on that stage wearing that red wig, red velvet dress and shiny, black patent leather tap shoes. I would practice singing and dancing. My parents took me to see that show with Andrea McCardle and Sarah Jessica Parker. I was in heaven. I was going to be a star on Broadway. What I lacked in talent and body type, I made up for in personality and gumption. Every time there was an audition in the paper, I was ready for my big break. Always on Shabbos, that break never happened(and I will go to my grave saying I would’ve been Annie if auditions were during the week…a little denial never hurt anyone.)

In 2005, my boys were still young enough to agree to go with my parents (and me, of course, I had to check out the competition on stage)…and then in 2013, my friend Annie came to work her magic on Broadway again. I accepted that I was too old to play the part, though I would make and awesome Miss Hannigan, I do cranky really, really well.

So my parents take me to see Annie and just in case the lead is sick and the understudy is unavailable, I curl my hair and wear a red dress because you never know when your time to shine will come and I wanted to be prepared. No, they did not pull me on stage and celebrate my many talents, but I did get to spend a wonderful afternoon with the two people who were always there to both celebrate and have a good laugh at my dreams.

And though my boys have yet to express their ambitions for the future, I hope they know that I am always here to cheer them on and encourage them to follow whatever their dreams are. Whether it be ballet or basketball, working at Dunkin’ Donuts or being a doctor, that’s what parents are there for to support and love and be our children’s biggest fans…always.

Banji Latkin Ganchrow is a Teaneck resident and writer who enjoys traveling across the country by car with her husband and three sons. She is also the author of the blog holycrapimgonnabe40 and hopes to, one day, write a best-selling novel and appear on the Ellen Show.

By Banji Latkin Ganchrow