Sunday, May 17, 2026. Broadway In Detroit - #BroadwayInDetroit - The #FisherTheatre and more! and…read moremore! Detroit. #hamilton
I have been planning this moment since I'd been informed that Hamilton was coming back in March -- and I don't think I fully understood the depths of my devotion to making it happen until I saw my mother's face.
She had surgery just days before. She couldn't clap too hard. None of that stopped her from being completely, uncontainable, childlike giddy. It is not often that adult children get to see their parents that way -- eyes dancing, joy uncontained. I got to see it Sunday night.
The cast -- predominantly Black and brilliant. Culturally, that matters deeply to me and my former Black Panther mother. I want to be clear, however: everyone on that stage gave everything. The dancers. The vocals. The lighting. The set. Collective excellence. That's what live performance does -- it doesn't let you just watch. It makes you witness.
And then there's the #FisherBuilding itself. I love theatres. I see grand architecture as art. Every time I enter a building -- big or small -- I stop at the door and take it all in. The Fisher is what I imagine true opulence looks like: 40 kinds of marble, crystal and bronze, green terra cotta tiles, light that gives the whole space a warm, illuminated gold effect -- earning its name as "Detroit's largest art object."
The staff moved with the same coordinated energy as the performers. Dennis (Head Usher and my old Detroit Opera House colleague) greeted me with a big hug and put Mommie in her wheelchair with care, walking her straight to dashing security -- who told her she looked like royalty -- an African Queen. Raul was assigned to her for the entire night and showed up like family. The bartenders argued -- warmly, playfully -- over who got to take care of her. And I cannot even discuss all of the examples of kindness from the patrons to me and each other, because this post will be longer than it already is. The usher at the door walked me through my QR code, and managed that entire line with authority and warmth.
I told my sisters -- watching our mother's face glow that night, opened something in me I cannot name. I am addicted now. Addicted to chasing that look on their faces. For as long as I have breath and means, I will keep finding ways to put you all in rooms that make your eyes dance.
Some nights just settle into you differently. This is one of them.
Thank you, Fisher Theatre for giving me one of those nights.