Have you ever had one of those moments when you’ve worked for years towards something, and the finish line is finally in sight – only to find that the hardest test is right at the end?
It’s the nightmare scenario for any creative project: you’ve done the work, gathered the people, made the promises, raised everyone’s hopes – and suddenly the whole thing is in danger of falling apart.
Recently, I had a front-row seat when a client faced exactly that moment.
I don’t usually get to tell stories like this. Most of my coaching work is confidential, as it should be. But Ian Poitier has kindly given me permission to share this one.
Earlier this year, Ian invited me to Nassau in the Bahamas, for the launch of the national Creative and Performing Arts School for the Bahamas (CAPAS). Just 9 weeks into their training, the first intake of students were performing for the opening of the school.
Ian is the Founder and Chairman of CAPAS. It was his brainchild, and it marks the first stage of the bold strategy he is spearheading for the Bahamian government, to develop the country’s creative economy.
I’ve had the privilege of coaching Ian for over a decade; in that time I’ve seen CAPAS go from a twinkle in his eye to a live institution – with the first cohort of students enrolled, the first building in the campus complex almost finished, and legislation passed in the Bahamian Parliament establishing the school as a statutory institution.
So I’ve seen what it takes to make a project like this happen. And believe me, it takes a lot.
The evening was supposed to be a celebration of everything Ian and his students had put into the project. But Winter Storm Gianna, trailing the southeast coast of the United States, had other ideas.
Because the show was on an outdoor stage, with the audience under a large canopy. And as showtime approached, the rain was lashing down and the stage was covered in water.
I was sitting in the front row with other friends, colleagues and supporters of Ian’s. It felt like we were gazing out over a lake. Under the coloured lights from the rig, it looked beautiful. But considering it was showtime in just a few minutes, we were horrified.
It was a large stage, and the show included spectacular song and dance routines. There was no way it would be safe for them to dance on that surface.
And this was a one-off occasion. The Prime Minister, Brave Davis, was already in his seat. Other important guests had flown in specially for tonight. It would be impossible to reconvene all these VIPs again. For this audience, it was now or never.
But there was still hope… to our huge relief, the rain eased and then stopped. Ian came onstage, welcomed us all and asked us to bear with them while they dried the stage and made it safe. The show would be late but it would (hopefully) go on.
It took about 30 minutes to dry out the stage, firstly sweeping the water off with brushes, then using big power dryers. Ian came back on stage, thanked us for our patience and said the show would start in 5 minutes. The relief on his face rippled through the audience. Game on!
And then, the instant Ian left the stage, the heavens opened again. Within seconds, the stage was flooded once more. We were staring down the barrel of disaster. As if to emphasise the point, the wind changed and the rain soaked those of us in the front rows of the audience. We clung on, hoping for a miracle.
A few minutes later Ian reappeared, mic in hand, and incredibly, he was still smiling.
Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen. As you can see, we can’t use the main stage, but we’re going to try to figure something out. It won’t be quite the show we promised you, but we’ll do our best. We’re going to start and see how far we can get!
A sliver of hope came from the fact that there was a proscenium arch at the back of the stage, with a narrow strip of dry space underneath it. So Ian and his team worked frantically behind the scenes to rework the show, simplifying the dance routines so that they could be performed on the dry surface under the arch.
The first three students came out to thunderous applause, introduced themselves and the school, and got the show rolling with an a cappella number.
And as we sat there, with the rain splashing our faces and turning the stage into a watery wonderland, something extraordinary unfolded before our eyes.
Ian had designed the evening to showcase the range of the students’ talents. It featured choral singing, big musical numbers and dance routines, as well as contemporary comedy, ancient Greek tragedy and Bahamian Junkanoo carnival drummers in full regalia.
Every section was entrancing. But our hearts were in our mouths watching the dance segments, some of them with dozens of dancers, which we knew had been choreographed for the huge expanse of stage that was now a shimmering lake. Ian and his team had rejigged them to fit into the narrow space under the arch. And somehow, it worked.
I’ve never experienced an audience willing on performers the way the crowd urged the students on that night. We were getting drenched but we weren’t going anywhere. How could we? If they could do it, so could we.
At the end of the show, Prime Minister Davis made a speech and pronounced the school officially open. A Junkanoo leader blew a blast on a conch shell. The applause drowned out the rain.
I’ll never forget the pride and joy and relief on the students’ faces as they took the applause, nor on Ian’s as he stood there with them.
Sometimes your dream will cost you more than you ever thought possible. Not just at the beginning, or the messy middle. But right at the end, when the finish line is in sight (and the heavens open).
Thank you Ian, for showing us all how to show up when it counts.
You can see a short video with some highlights of the show here. (The shots with a dry stage are from the Thursday night Friends and Family performance, so you can glimpse the size of the routines Ian had to squeeze under the proscenium arch.)
You can learn more about the school on the CAPAS website, and follow their adventures on Instagram.
