Sunday, 4:30 p.m: I pick up my daughters who are opposed to ending their weekend with their Dad. The girls have shared time between two households for three years. Transitions are tough. While I’ve learned to not take it personally, it’s only recently I’ve learned to not placate. I stick to plan despite outbursts, sullen looks, silent treatments.
After mass and Sunday sauce, we look for a post-Oscars show on television. As my daughter channel surfs, we see the Wiz is beginning. I had never seen the movie in entirety but have always enjoyed the music.
Slide Some Oil to Me … I am 10 years old, in tap shoes and fringed leotard at the Rochester Institute of Technology auditorium for a dance recital … Ease on Down the Road … I’ve loved for years … Everybody Rejoice … my love-at-first-sight introduction to influential fitness educator Petra Kolber, her warm-up song in the first class I took with her.
But the music takes on a deeper meaning as I watch with my daughters whose great-great grandmother Clara Hampton was the first in her family’s generation to be born free. Her parents were slaves in South Carolina. Everybody Rejoice is more than a Pollyanna perspective on a new day. It’s about life-changing liberation.
Throughout the musical, there are nuances and nods to African-American culture that my girls appreciate. (Scarecrow being illiterate and encouraged to remain that way, Tinman’s sassy silly expressions, the yellow brick road leading them all the way to the grand entrance of the Wizard’s urban palace where they’re told to use the back entrance) Although the film is more than 30 years old, it resonates with them (especially 19-year-old Michael Jackson’s brilliant performance); with what they’ve learned about their family history.
10:30 p.m. While The Wiz tanked at the box office in 1978 and was panned by critics, on this Oscar night it is our top pick.
We’ll have to find out who won what tomorrow.