Once hidden, a young man's light now shines center stage

Imagine for a moment that you're the parent of a child with learning disabilities. When other kids quickly learn to read, he struggles. When he gets singled out in class, he cringes. When it's time to go to the "resource" teacher, he wants to crawl under his desk.

When he's 8 and his sister comes home with yet another award or trophy, he looks at you and asks, "Mom, do you think I'll ever be good at anything?"

You tell him that he's good at being good. While his free-spirited older sibling can be a minor discipline problem, he knows how to follow the rules. Sadly, you know it's because he's already mastered the art of keeping his head down, lest others notice him.

Finally, after public school and parochial school and private school fail to deliver, you read about a boarding school - one with tuition so high it will empty your retirement account and leave you feeling queasy - that seems your last hope. A school in New York where boys with dyslexia go to small classes six days a week and are taught by experts in learning disabilities.

You swallow hard and send him there.

The next four years are a blur of happiness and homesickness. You realize you miss him more than he misses you. You watch from a distance as your child grows and gets good grades. You find out your son loves tennis. And squash. And theater. Things he never dared to try at home.

You look online every day for pictures of him studying, skiing, and building model bridges in physics class. When he comes home on break one spring, you notice a dog-eared paperback in his pocket. He'd been reading. For pleasure.

Before he graduates, a special teacher - one of many in that amazing place - tells your son that he should give theater a try. He tells him he has a talent for it.

So three years later, while your kid is taking a year off from college, he sees a notice in the paper. Auditions are being held for a community theater.

"Mr. Weisenburger said I should stay with acting," he reminds you as he grabs his car keys and heads out for a reading.

A couple of days later, the call comes. He got a small part. He spends the next few months memorizing lines, learning stagecraft and rehearsing.

Meanwhile, you hear that his school theater teacher is seriously ill. You suddenly want to find a way to thank him for the self-confidence he helped instill in an insecure teenager.

So at the premiere of "Getting Away with Murder" at the Little Theatre of Virginia Beach on Friday night, you snag two programs from the usher.

One is for your son's scrapbook. The other is going in the mail. To that terrific teacher who was able - with just a whisper of encouragement and a pat on the back - to convince your son that he really could be good at something.

Kerry Dougherty, (757) 446-2306, kerry.dougherty@cox.net, PilotOnline.com/dougherty