Talk Less, Smile More… or Write Like You’re Running Out of Time?

Over the weekend, I watched the ten year anniversary of Hamilton with Cat, and wow, it hit me in ways I didn’t expect. Ten years ago the show felt like lightning in a bottle. A mixtape turned cultural phenomenon. A group of friends with a wild idea who somehow ended up performing at the White House.

It always reminds me of how America itself started: a bunch of friends in a room, probably with more drinks than plans, deciding to change the world. Honestly, that’s not so different from Sanford. Almost every one of our favorite festivals and events came from the same formula. A handful of us around a table saying, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we had this?” And then suddenly we’re shutting down streets and ordering extra porta-potties. That’s how all amazing things seem to happen.

So while the whole show is brilliant, three moments stood out to me this time, and they’re pushing me to take action now.

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1. “I am not throwing away my shot… but should I talk less and smile more?”

Hamilton never stopped writing. He threw himself into every opportunity like time was running out. Burr, on the other hand, told everyone to play it safe: talk less, smile more, wait until you know which way the wind is blowing.

Sitting next to Cat at the sing-along, I found myself asking which path I follow most often. Am I the Hamilton who can’t stop pushing, creating, and saying yes to new chances? Or am I the Burr, holding back until it feels safer?

The truth is, I’ve been both. There are seasons in my life when I’ve been bold, loud, and relentless, and others when I’ve stayed quiet or waited for the “right time.” But the older I get, the more I realize the “right time” is usually an excuse. In fact, I wrote an entire blog about how we use “I don’t have time” as a shield, when really it’s about what we choose to prioritize.

So here’s how I’m choosing to spend my time now:

• Preparing for a run at local office, even though it would be easier to keep my head down.

• Writing more consistently about the issues and ideas I care about, even when it’s messy.

• Saying yes to podcasts, panels, and conversations, because if I have a voice, I should use it.

Hamilton reminds me that waiting is its own kind of loss. Burr may have survived by holding back, but Hamilton moved the needle by putting himself out there, risks and all.

And now I’ll turn it on you: which one are you? Do you find yourself waiting for perfect conditions, or are you willing to act, even when it’s messy?

Because if history is watching, I want the kiddo in my life to see me choosing action, not silence.

When the kiddo dresses as Eliza and you show up as King George… because his solos are my favorite, spit and all. Proof that sometimes taking a stand looks like a cape and a Burger King crown

2. “The Room Where It Happens”

Almost every big shift in history started with a group of people in a room, hashing it out. The founding fathers weren’t perfect, but they argued, dreamed, and fought their way toward something new.

That hits close to home for me because so many of the things I love about Sanford started the same way. Pints n’ Paws, Love Your Shorts Film Festival, Sofa N' Suds, Sanford Porchfest, even downtown revitalization — all of it came from a handful of friends around a table, probably with a drink in hand, saying, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we had this?” And then we made it happen.

Here’s the thing: it’s not just about “them” being in the room. It’s about you being in the room too. The rooms that shape our future aren’t always glamorous. They’re city boards, nonprofit committees, PTAs, civic clubs. They’re places where decisions get made about how we spend money, what kind of programs exist for kids, and what kind of neighborhoods we build.

Imposter syndrome is real. I know that voice that whispers, “I’m not ready. I’m not welcome. That isn’t for me. I don’t have the right credentials.” But let’s be honest — if an “uneducated immigrant bastard, orphan son of a whore,” to borrow from the show, can shape history, then so can we.

So if you’ve been waiting for a sign to join the room, this is it. Whether you step into a board meeting, a neighborhood association, or even just a group of friends dreaming up something wild over drinks, we need your voice. Because our future will be shaped by the people who show up.

This is our very own ‘room where it happened.’ A few friends, some big ideas, probably a couple of beers… and suddenly Sanford had one of its favorite festivals- Pints N' Paws

3. “History has its eyes on you.”

Washington’s words always echo in the show, but this time they hit me differently. Ten years ago, when Hamilton debuted, the country felt full of hope. Today it feels heavier, more divided, and more fragile.

Part of that is because we’ve let history itself be watered down. We’ve whitewashed it. We’ve erased women and people of color from the story, or tucked them away in footnotes. Eliza literally preserved Hamilton’s legacy, yet most textbooks barely mention her. And she’s not the only one. There are countless “unsung heroes” whose names we never hear because they didn’t fit the dominant narrative.

So what do we do about it?

• Ask more questions. Don’t just skim the headlines or accept the first version of a story you hear. Dig deeper. Who isn’t being named? Who got left out?

• Challenge yourself to find one unsung hero in history and learn about them. Then share what you’ve learned.

• Seek out mentors in your own life who inspire you to keep pushing and questioning, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Our country is in a crucial crisis right now. I don’t want to look back at this time and have to explain why I stood by quietly while people I love lost their rights. Silence isn’t neutral, it’s a choice.

We have to fight for our neighbors, no matter what they believe, where they came from, or how different they are from us. They’re here now, in our communities. They are human beings who need love, support, and respect. That’s the only way we’ll grow together and create something better, instead of clinging to “the way things have always been.”

History is watching. And someday, it will tell the story of what we chose to do right now.

Portrait of Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, wife of U.S. statesman and first Secretary of the Treasury, Alexander Hamilton. Painting by Ralph Earl

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The story of this country has always been messy, loud, and full of ordinary people doing extraordinary things. It’s our turn now. Get in the room. Write the next verse.

But don’t just read this and move on. Stop and ask yourself: What will your verse be? What have you always said you wanted to explore but haven’t? What step have you been putting off because you’re waiting for the “right time”?

Tell me what you’re going to do. I want to hear it. And more than that, I want to help you on that journey. Because history is not just watching me — it’s watching all of us.

And if it feels overwhelming, remember what the show reminds us: tomorrow there’ll be more of us. More people stepping into the room. More people raising their voices. More people choosing to act instead of staying silent.

I know Lin-Manuel Miranda will probably never stumble across this little blog, but if he did, I hope he’d feel proud to know his art is still inspiring people like me to keep showing up, keep writing, and keep fighting for something better.

So let’s make sure when the story gets told, it remembers that we showed up, we spoke out, and we made things better. Together.