Serve, Study, and Succeed

Stay In the Car, Mama!

A Hilarious but Helpful Guide to College Audition Day Etiquette for Parents

Dearest Parents,

As your child prepares to strut their musical stuff at audition weekend, it’s time we address something that may shake the very foundations of your well-meaning instincts.

Are you ready?

Stay In the Car!

Yes, I know. Somewhere across suburbia, a collective gasp just echoed through minivans and SUVs.

“Stay in the car?! But I’ve been the snack-bringer, the uniform-hemmer, the chauffeur, the emotional support animal!”

I know. You’ve been the unsung hero of every All-State run and solo competition. But this moment is different. This one’s not about you.

It’s about your child becoming their own artist—and that means auditioning solo.

Why You Gotta Stay in the Car

Let’s break it down with two simple truths:

  1. You’ve already done your job.
    You’ve raised a confident, prepared, talented human being. Trust that they can walk into that audition room with poise—and maybe a little pit sweat—and do what you raised them to do: shine.

    They don’t need a pep talk at the door. They need space to become the kind of young adult colleges want to welcome. Think of this as training wheels off, spotlight on.
  2. You are not the one being auditioned.
    I say this with love: when parents hover, barge into audition rooms, or over-question faculty... it backfires. Hard.

    One panelist from a prestigious conservatory said it best:
    “We’re looking at the student, not the support staff.”
    Translation: if your child can’t speak for themselves during audition weekend, the assumption is they won’t be able to advocate for themselves as a college student—or professional musician.

What Not to Do (Real Talk)

To illustrate the point, here’s an actual moment that lives in faculty-room infamy:

A well-meaning mom leaned in, smiled sweetly, and said to the audition panel:

“Can Charlie only have afternoon and evening classes? He has real trouble getting up in the mornings. If you assign him early classes, I’ll need to get an apartment in town to make sure he gets there on time. Noon to 7 p.m. would really be ideal… and if he decides to sleep in, I’ll just cover his morning classes.”

Let’s just say… Charlie didn’t get in.

Helicopter Parent Hall of Fame: Avoid These Moves

  • Don’t enter the audition building unless it’s a parent-designated info session.
  • Don’t ask questions that your child should be asking themselves.
  • Don’t hover by the door or sneak photos like it’s a kindergarten recital.
  • Don’t “just introduce yourself” to the department chair. They know who you are.

What You Can Do Instead

  • Attend the parent info session if there is one.
  • Use pre-scheduled campus tours and Q&As to ask questions—always, always, always, outside the audition room.
  • Coach your child in advance: what to ask, who to talk to, and how to listen like a future professional.
  • Then? Wait in the car.
    You can sip a latte. You can knit. You can cry into your steering wheel while pretending to scroll Instagram. But don’t go in.

Unless You’re Auditioning for Helicopter Parent of the Year…

...stay grounded. Literally. In the car.

No one ever got a scholarship because their mom asked more questions than they did. But several have lost out because they looked like they needed a chaperone to navigate college life.

Be Their Fan, Not Their Manager

There will be plenty of chances to show up and cheer them on:

  • Recitals.
  • Concerts.
  • Graduation.
  • That time they come home and casually mention their roommate made a TikTok of them cleaning their trumpet with orange soda.

Audition day is not the place.

This is your moment to be quietly heroic. To play the long game. To say with confidence:
“You’ve got this!”

Then roll up the windows and turn on an audiobook. Maybe something relaxing. Like a true crime podcast.

Final Notes

Trust me: this is what success looks like. A student walking in alone. Introducing themselves. Speaking clearly. Listening well. Performing without a backup singer named Mom.

Let them walk in. Let them own it.

And then—when they walk out—hug them like you just watched them win the Olympics.

Because in a way… they just did.