Imagine being told by your own father not to perform a song that would later become the cornerstone of a cultural phenomenon. That’s exactly what happened to Lin-Manuel Miranda when his dad, Luis A. Miranda Jr., advised him against debuting a track from Hamilton at a White House event in 2009. But here’s where it gets controversial: Was this a missed opportunity or a stroke of genius? Let’s dive in.
In a recent interview with People magazine, Luis A. Miranda Jr. revealed that he initially urged his son to stick with what was already a proven success—a song from his Broadway musical In the Heights. At the time, Lin-Manuel was invited to perform at the White House Evening of Poetry, Music, and the Spoken Word, an event early in Barack Obama’s presidency. Luis recalled, ‘He told me, ‘Dad, I’ve been working on Hamilton. Can I perform the only song I have?’ And I said, ‘No, why not go with In the Heights? We know it works.’
But Lin-Manuel, ever the visionary, decided to take a risk. He presented an early version of what would become Hamilton’s iconic opening number, ‘Alexander Hamilton,’ to the White House team. And this is the part most people miss: They loved it. That moment marked the beginning of Hamilton’s meteoric rise, from a mixtape album to a Broadway juggernaut that swept 11 Tony Awards in 2015, including Best Original Score for Lin-Manuel.
Before Hamilton, Lin-Manuel had already made waves with In the Heights, which debuted on Broadway in 2008 and earned him his first Tony for Best Original Score. But Hamilton was different. It wasn’t just a musical—it was a cultural reset, blending hip-hop, history, and heart in a way that resonated globally. A filmed version of the original Broadway production was released in 2020, bringing the story to audiences who, like Luis, couldn’t afford Broadway tickets but could experience it on the big screen.
‘We expect greatness to continue,’ Luis told People while celebrating Hamilton’s 10th anniversary. ‘For us, the movie is even more significant because it makes this incredible work of art accessible to families who might never have seen it otherwise.’
But here’s the question that sparks debate: Was Luis’s initial advice a protective father’s caution or a missed opportunity to trust his son’s creative instincts? And did Lin-Manuel’s decision to defy that advice change the course of theatrical history? Let us know what you think in the comments—was this a risk worth taking, or would In the Heights have been the safer bet?
