My kid wants to study theatre and I'm not sorry about it.

Get into a conversation with a parent in which one or both of you have a child who is a senior in high school and the topic at hand inevitably turns to college. "What does your child want to study?" "Where does she want to go to school?" My daughter Annie plans to study theatre and I'm not sorry about it.

When Annie first started talking about majoring in theatre performance and making the stage her life's work, I was excited for her. She has a passion for it. She doesn't just memorize lines and spit them back out. She studies her craft. She reads books on the techniques of acting, seeks critiques of her performance, works tech to learn another side of production. You can see in her eyes and her smile how theatre makes Annie come alive.

But when people started asking me what Annie plans to study in college, I kind of felt like I had to apologize for her career choice. After all, studying theatre isn't exactly a "responsible" choice like studying finance or medicine or education. I would deliver my answer of "theatre" with a slight smile and a quick roll of the eyes, as if to say, "You know kids and their unrealistic expectations." I thought that was how people expected me to react.

My husband and I have talked to Annie about the realities of a career in theatre. Jobs may be scarce and may not pay well. Waiting tables to make ends meet is a real possibility. Grad school may be a necessity; apartment sharing will definitely be. But this is what she wants to do. She is willing to make those sacrifices. No one goes back to school to study theatre. Now is her time.

And so, somehow in the course of Annie moving from her junior year in high school to her senior year, I've lost that obligated, apologetic feeling and the eye roll that came with it. I think about all the joy that the arts -- theatre being one of them -- bring to people. Without people invested in creating that art, that joy would be lost. I look around my own community and see adults working in the realm of theatre -- on stage, back stage, in promotion and development. I can see a future in that for Annie.

Does everyone who goes to theatre school end up winning a Tony or a Golden Globe or inking a deal for a network television show? Of course not. Just as not every finance major ends up being president of a bank and not every med school student wins the Nobel Prize for medicine.

Those who do end up with those career superlatives have certain things in common: they work their butts off; they seize opportunities when presented; they don't take no for an answer; and they do what they do because they are passionate about it.

My daughter is passionate about transforming herself into characters on a stage for the purpose of entertaining, and sometimes educating, people in the audience. And you know what? I'm not the least bit sorry about that.

My kid is not a pothead

but she plays one on stage.

Actually, that's not quite true. She plays a "poser stoner." That's a kid who acts like she does drugs and drink just to be popular, but who doesn't really like to party.

Annie is in a show this summer called "Facebook Me." As part of the character development exercise, the director of the show told each of the kids to create a Facebook page for their character, which is what Annie did this afternoon while I was on the couch trying to recover from 3 hours and 30 miles in the car. 

As I was sitting there, mindlessly staring at the television, a text message popped up on my phone. 

"Are you with Annie?"

YES.

"OK. Don't tell her I'm texting you. And I'm only doing this because I would want someone to do the same for me."

OK. What's up?

"She's inviting people to friend a kid on FB named Jessie. Can you go to that page?"

OK.

So I click over to Annie's page, see the post that says "You should friend Jessie Wilson. I hear she's really cool."  When I clicked on Jessie Wilson's link, there was a picture of my child. And on the info page of the profile, it said things like: 

Interests:  Partying hard and smoking pot --- and a bunch of other things that I don't remember exactly, but that I would not want people thinking about my kid.

Fortunately, I knew two things. First, I knew that Jessie is Annie's character and that she'd mentioned they were supposed to make Facebook pages for the characters.

Second, I know my kid and I know that she is a tea-toteler and not interested in drugs or alcohol. (Seriously, I know everyone is shaking their head at my now, but honestly, it's true. The boys? Yeah, I will worry about them some day.)

So I explained to the texter -- whom I love for looking out for my kid and whom I will not name because I protect my sources -- that this was a character for a play. 

"OMG! I was freaking out, thinking 'Not Annie!'" was the text reply. 

Then I insisted that Annie delete the page. This did not go over well. She did it, but with much frustration and muttering about people not trusting her and not knowing that she would never do that or say that stuff. 

And she posted this on her Facebook page:

To everyone who went to Jessie's facebook page:
It's for a character. I am not doing any of the things on there and I would never. As part of the show I'm in we had to make facebook pages for our character and my character is a poser stoner. I AM NOT DOING ANY OF THAT. Please, do not worry, it's part of a character building exercise and "Jessie" is a girl who pretends that she smokes. Hence all the nonsense on her page. Sorry for alarming you all. I did not create a fake name and facebook and even if I did, I wouldn't be stupid enough to advertise it on here.

Finally, I called the director and explained that while I thought the character development idea was a good one, I thought maybe the girls might need a little more guidance. I can see it now:

"I'm sorry Annie. We cannot admit you to Best College Ever because this Facebook page clearly shows that you are a substance abuser."

Yeah. So please, everyone just know: My kid is not a pothead. Honest. But I'm so glad to know that there are people keeping an eye on her.