Dear Sirosh: Give Them Hell

What a difference one night can make…

I met Sirosh about ten years ago when I first started at the Mouse House. And while our exact first encounter feels blurry this far removed, what has always remained has been the feeling. Sirosh was more than a coworker, friend, or castmember. He was, as the kids say, a VIBE. You never knew when he would waltz into N19 and grace us with his presence. You never knew if he knew the choreography, he would be doing that day, and quite frankly neither did he. But you did know, without a shadow of a doubt, he was going to be a good time. He was a consistent reminder of what Disney should be about. A unique presence filled with wisdom and humor, who found the balance of loving this unique job but also not taking it or himself too seriously. He understood that as much as we were to be present, we also should go out and enjoy the world, and do it in absolute luxury darling.

The last time I spoke to Sirosh was a year ago today. After being called back to work at the mouse house, I found myself different from the way the world and life had changed so much since the shutdown. I had lost my aunt the year prior, and in a whirlwind of devastating events and three months lost my cousin, uncle, and father. When I got the call to return to Disney a few weeks later, I knew it was something that I needed to do, to find myself and a piece of my joy again. As happy as I was to finally return to work, I made sure to keep the information to myself and allow myself to be surprised by the faces that showed up that night.

Enter the amazing and fabulous Sirosh.

I should say I had no idea Sirosh was doing the parade that year. The shock and awe of seeing each other in the flesh (even behind his mask and Edna's glasses) brought an ungodly sound out of both of our mouths. We screamed at each other. Looking back, it sounded like crocking birds but at the moment, it was completely worth it. I missed him. We immediately began to catch up with each other and talk about how the last few years had gone. He told me about work and being ready to travel and I told him about life coming at me fast but also being ready to do this parade thing again. He told me he loved my hair, I told him to give me those glasses. We laughed as we headed to the clock about the poor attempt at an inclusion video and promised to talk more after we rehearsal. That was it. I had no idea that I would never speak to or see him again.

My relationship with him was often like that. Quick moments. Deep dives on life, sandwiched in between jokes, catch-ups, and compliments. We bonded on being fashionable, loving popping in and out, and being way too old for this shit. But more than anything, I loved him because he saw me. Every. Single. Time. There was not a shift in my ten years that he did not try to find me and catch up. To tell me “You’re doing great sweetie” in his own way while also saying, “you’re way too fab for any of this”. He knew when I was at my highs there and supported me when I reached my lows. He always saw me. Every single time. He saw me. For an outspoken girl who’s spent more time reminding herself she deserved to be there just as much as the next person, that dedication was what I’ll always cherish.

The last thing Sirosh said to me before we got ready for the run was “continue to give them hell…”. Even in those short moments, he was encouraging me to step up and speak up about the inclusion conversation. He knew it was important to me and believed that I could be a part of real change. While “looking half the age of these other girls” lol.  

The truth is that everyone has a Sirosh story. Wheatear you met him once or were part of his inner circle of close friends and travel buddies, he saw you. He may not have remembered your name or the spot he was doing that day, but he made time, for each of us. There is not a person in my Disney career who I can say that about. How many people do you know have had a memorial service in the middle of a pandemic where literally 100 folks were willing to stand outside in the heat just to be there and pay tribute to a man who, just like me, took the time to see them at some point in their lives? He was and is one of a kind.

My heart is heavy today as I battle with being excited to be back in a show I love and the trauma associated with what happened that night a year ago. There is no handbook for things like this. No guidelines on how to cop when something you love also feels like reliving a terrible day repeatedly. And truthfully, no real support system from your job to deal with actual tragedy. What do you say to the cast and crew reliving a terrible moment, while being in a job where you literally have to give yourself full for it to work? The world and the workforce would have you believe that you should love your job more than anything in the world, and then just as quickly will forget about you and replace you before the day is done. But I think we can do better.

To the friends, cast, and crew stepping back on that route tonight, do it for him. Not because we have sold a ton of tickets. Not because some managers ill advise to “stuck it up butter cup”. Do it because if he ever took a moment to SEE you, for even just a few minutes, he deserves it. Our department was better because of him. Our show will be better because he was there even for a little bit. And I am better because I knew him. He was and is a light that will continue to guide me and my time in this show forever. He is a reminder that you can be kind, goofy, fun, unique, and full of luxury. He is first class, and big glasses, handbags, and big trips. He was the perfect mix of loving your job and living your life and if I learn nothing during my time at Disney, I hope to be half of the person Sirosh was on and off the route.

I don’t expect tonight, or any night during this run to be easy for anyone. But I hope it serves as a reminder to all of us of the unique and special job we have been blessed to do. We literally give everything so that others can enjoy a bit of Disney magic. But now a piece of our magic is gone, but the light from him remains. Each of us are better because of the person dancing next to us. Not because of the spot we are in, not because of management or any other weird things that distract us from just being performers. I hope we all learn to love what we do a little bit more because we truly do not know when it will be our last time… And even for a second, if you need me, know that I am here.

 We create the magic; we are the magic. Sirosh was the epitome of that and more.  I will never be able to tell you how much our time meant to me. I will cherish our last moments together and will never forget how good it felt too be seen by you. Thank you, Sirosh, for seeing me.

Do not take any minute you have in this life for granted. Be kind to each other. Take a moment to really see someone. Love people, apologize, and say what you feel. Wear big glasses just for the hell of it.  Take that trip, buy that bag, do something nice for yourself. Dance full out because you why else are you here. AND GIVE. THEM. HELL.