Stacey Delmhorst is a Staples High School math teacher.
She is also the proud mother of Griffin Delmhorst. A senior, and vice president of Staples Players, he is double cast as Jean Valjean in the current production of “Les Misérables.”
The show has earned raves from audiences. Even by the sky-high standards of the much-more-than-a-high-school troupe, this one stands out. Over 70 actors and 30 musicians, with costumes, sets and energy that rival professional productions make “Les Mis” a show that will be talked about for years.
Stacey is justifiably proud of her son, and the entire cast and crew. Her words today are well worth reading. And they’re relatable to anyone who has ever watched any child commit fully to any passion — whatever it is, in any field — and find success and satisfaction there, with friends and mentors they will never forget.
There are some nights that remind you why the arts matter; why community, passion and purpose are worth every late rehearsal, every lost weekend, and every frazzled dinner eaten out of a to-go box.
The past 2 nights of “Les Misérables” were those nights.
Sitting in the audience, I found myself doing that impossible parent dance: half bursting with pride, half fighting back tears (okay, I lost that battle — multiple times).
Griffin Delmhorst, in “Les Mis.”
Griffin and his castmates didn’t just perform “Les Mis”; they lived it.
Every emotion, every harmony, every heartbreaking pause between lines felt earned.
The show is a monster of a challenge emotionally, musically and logistically, yet this group of students made it feel effortless. They gave everything they had, and somehow still managed to make us believe they had more to give.
It’s easy to talk about “Les Mis” as a story about revolution, loss and redemption. But what struck me most was its quiet message about legacy. Watching these students — some seasoned seniors, some brand new freshmen — share the stage, I saw exactly that: a legacy being passed down in real time.
The seniors of Griffin, Will, Cat, Sara, Seamus, Cooper, Graham, Harry, Connor, Leila and Mikey (I know there are more!) deserve their moment in the spotlight.
This was their final fall show, the last time they’ll step into a rehearsal hall as students and not alumni, the last time they’ll experience the magic of a fall opening night knowing this family still belongs fully to them.
Their growth over the years has been extraordinary — and not just as performers, but as leaders, mentors and friends.
You could feel their experience anchoring the show. Their presence on stage had that rare mix of confidence and heart that comes from years of late-night line runs, forgotten props, and those unspoken “we’ve got this” glances shared between castmates.
But let me be clear. This wasn’t just a senior showcase. Instead, it was a full company triumph.
The freshmen, sophomores and juniors didn’t just support the seniors; they elevated them. Their energy, dedication and sheer love for the craft radiated from the stage.
They’re the heartbeat that will carry Staples Players into the next generation, keeping the standard sky-high and the spirit intact. Watching them step into their roles, both on stage and within the Players community, was a reminder that this legacy is alive, evolving, and in very good hands.
There was something profoundly moving about seeing such a range of students, from those taking their first bow to those taking their last, pour themselves into this story together.
“Les Misérables” asks a lot of anyone who takes it on. It demands vulnerability, resilience, and the ability to hold both despair and hope in the same breath. These kids did just that. and they did it with heart, humor, grace and professionalism well beyond their years.
Every element of this production — from the powerhouse vocals, the precision of pit orchestra director Lauren Pine, the seamless scene transitions (of the amazing tech crew, led by Fin Maddaloni), and the emotional nuance spoke to the kind of artistry that doesn’t happen by accident.
It happens because a group of young people decide, collectively, that they’re going to create something extraordinary. It happens because of directors (David Roth and Kerry Long) and mentors (AnnaMaria Fernandez and Rachel) who believe in them enough to hand them the keys to a show this massive, and trust that they’ll drive it like pros.
And it happens because theater, at its core, is about connection. There was no shortage of that on that stage.
By the final note of “Do You Hear the People Sing,” I was a puddle. Not just because of the story, but because I could see my son and his friends standing on the cusp of something bigger, in the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
(All photos/Kerry Long)
For the seniors, this was their final fall show, their chance to leave everything they’ve learned, loved and lived right there under the lights. And they did it absolutely beautifully.
So yes, I cried (multiple times). But they were the best kind of tears: the kind that come when pride and nostalgia and awe all collide.
Watching Griffin and his fellow Players reminded me that while every show eventually ends, what it leaves behind in the laughter, the memories, the lessons and the legacy never really fades.
Bravo to the entire cast and crew. You didn’t just perform one of the most difficult shows ever written; you transformedêé it into something unforgettable.
The revolution isn’t over, it’s just passing to the next cast.
“Les Misérables” concludes its run with performances this Thursday and Friday, November 20 and 21 (7 p.m.), Saturday, November 22 (2:30 and 7:30 p.m.) and Sunday, November 23 (2:30 p.m.). Click here for tickets, and more information.
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