Along the way, he encounters a world where people have been conditioned to accept their suffering, to distrust each other, and to believe that change is impossible. They are told to “keep your head low.” To stay in line. To obey. But young Orpheus does something no one else dares to do- he asks a question: Is it true? Is it true that we are divided? Is it true that we need to hate and fear each other?
Earlier that same day, I stood in front of a group of middle school students watching another kind of performance—one not rehearsed but just as remarkable. These students weren’t on a stage but they, too, were stepping into leadership. They weren’t content to keep their heads down. They weren’t willing to accept division as the status quo. They spoke up, lifted one another, and embodied the very essence of dignity.
One student, when asked, "What does dignity mean to you as a student leader?" responded with clarity beyond her years: "Treating everyone with dignity means that we need to hear everybody out. We need to make sure that everybody has a chance to be heard. We’re student leaders and we represent all of the student body, not just people who we agree with, not just people who agree with us." Her words echoed the very heart of dignity—leadership that includes, listens, and lifts.
In Hadestown, Orpheus is more than a musician, he is a leader. He doesn’t fight with weapons or threats. He leads with a song, with an idea so beautiful and undeniable that it shakes the foundations of the world around him and inspires all who hear his words. He reminds the people of Hadestown of something they had forgotten: that unity is possible, that dignity is their birthright. “To the world we dream about, and the one we live in now,” he sings, bridging the gap between what is and what could be.
Watching those middle school students, I saw Orpheus in them. They are already singing the song of dignity, already showing the world that change is possible. As adults we often underestimate young people. We think they need our guidance, our wisdom, our years of experience before they can lead. But the truth is, they are leading now. Our job is not to shape them into leaders—it is to follow their lead, to amplify their voices, and to make sure they have the tools to do what they are already doing: changing the world.
That night, as I heard the final notes of Hadestown soar through the auditorium, I felt the same awe I had felt with those middle school students. Different stages, different performances—but the same truth. The song of dignity is already being sung. And it is powerful.
Karren
