Forgiveness…can you imagine?

A Hamilton obsession apology

Art+by+Eliana+Megargee

Art by Eliana Megargee

by Eliana Megargee, Assistant Art Director

Today, I’m doing something that I should have  done a long time ago. This letter is an apology, an apology to all those who knew me circa 2015-2018: I’m sorry for the person that “Hamilton: An American Musical” made me become. 

It was… a dark time, to say the least. I would not stop singing all 46 of the songs on the “Hamilton” soundtrack. All of which I had, of course, completely memorized. I self-identified a little too much with real historical figure Eliza Schuyler Hamilton. My friend group had an entire “family tree” based on which “Hamilton” character we were. I went as renowned French military officer Marquis de Lafayette for Halloween in sixth grade. I baked a cake for Alexander Hamilton’s birthday, and created a Google slideshow to present to my entire class for the occasion. 

In fact, the date I’m writing this, Jan. 11, felt weirdly familiar for a reason I couldn’t put my finger on this morning. I’ve since looked it up, and sure enough, today’s date is burned into my brain as the birthday of long-dead Founding Father Alexander Hamilton. Here’s to 265, Alex! 

I don’t know what else to give to those affected except my sincerest apologies; I am begging for forgiveness. I regret this time period just as much as you do, believe me. I don’t know what came over me! I mean, it’s a good musical, I stand by my interest. I’ll still find myself humming along to the soundtrack every now and then, and I’m not ashamed of that. But I am deeply, deeply ashamed of the grip this show had on me. 

At least I’m not the only one. The tween fanbase of “Hamilton” was unparalleled. I sometimes muse on how known slave-owner Thomas Jefferson would feel if he knew he was being drawn as a Black man being “shipped” with his fellow Founding Fathers. I’m sure he’s rolling over in his grave (which, admittedly, is pretty satisfying.)

I can’t thank you enough if you stuck with me through this accursed time. Seriously, I don’t know how you did it. If I met my sixth grade self right now, I’d probably slap her in the face. And if ever it seems like I’m nearing another obsession as severe and as unfortunate as my “Hamilton” one, I need you to clutch my face, stare deeply into my eyes, and tell me “Eliana. Stop. Stop before it’s too late.” 

So basically, to end this desperate 

apology: if you know what Lams is, or have seen the piece of art infamously remembered as Miku Binder Thomas Jefferson, you and your loved ones may be entitled to financial compensation.