When Jeanne Voehl begins to weep halfway through our conversation, her 12-year-old son, Max, gently rests his hand on her shoulder and offers a comforting pat. Despite his lighthearted tone—an unexpected and amusing contrast to the emotional scene—he softly reassures her, saying, “There, there, don’t cry now, we’re almost done.” Jeanne chuckles softly, embraces him, and gives him a hug, yet her tears continue to flow.
This moment reflects Jeanne’s thoughts about when Max traveled to New York City several months earlier, to participate in the audition process for the upcoming musical adaptation of “Wonder.” This story is based on R.J. Palacio’s beloved middle-grade novel—and a New York Times bestseller—and was also adapted into a 2017 film featuring Julia Roberts and Owen Wilson. The story centers on Auggie Pullman, a young boy with facial differences, as he begins seventh grade and faces the challenges of entering a new school environment for the first time.
In a creative adaptation, Auggie, who often wears an astronaut helmet to hide his face during overwhelming moments, also finds solace in an imaginary companion named Moon Boy. Unlike in the book and movie, where this character is absent, the musical includes Moon Boy as a musical expression of Auggie’s internal thoughts—conveyed through song. His reliance on Moon Boy is profound, and it isn’t until near the story’s conclusion—when Auggie gains sufficient confidence to face his bullies—and performs a solo that the audience finally hears his voice clearly.
The song “Stare,” which is the second-to-last piece in the musical, marks the first time the audience truly hears Auggie sing out loud. His powerful voice dares the bullies to “Go ahead and stare,” embodying a pivotal moment of courage. Max had to sing this song repeatedly during his callback audition. Standing outside the audition room, Jeanne was moved to tears as she listened to her son perform those words.
To Jeanne, Auggie’s story resembles Max’s own journey closely.
He is a wonder
In the beginning of “Wonder,” Auggie describes himself as an ordinary kid—he enjoys mint chocolate ice cream and playing Minecraft. But he questions whether an ordinary child, like him, could have 27 hospital wristbands from surgeries, or cause other children to run away in fear on the playground. Max shares this empathy, as he was born with a severe bilateral cleft lip and palate, requiring 13 surgeries over his lifetime, and missing nearly four months of school during fourth grade due to medical needs. He has yet another surgery scheduled.
Jeanne initially worried that Max auditioning for the role of Auggie might be too personal, given their family’s experiences. Despite her reservations, she and Max traveled from Utah to New York for his callback. During those sessions, as Max repeated “Stare” and took direction from the creative team, Jeanne felt her doubts begin to fade.
She recounts, with her voice trembling, how at 11 years old, Max stood in front of strangers and sang words like “I love me exactly as I am,” with genuine sincerity. Jeanne’s heart swelled because, for her, that moment represented a powerful affirmation for her son—proof that if nothing else came from this process, Max had found his confidence.
She hoped he would internalize those words, knowing how extraordinary he is. To her, Max is a true wonder, a sentiment she desperately wanted him to believe at his core. As tears welled in her eyes, she looked at him and, laughter overtaking emotion, saw that he sat calmly, smiling at her—a testament to his optimism and humor, which provide comfort and strength.
He had shared this same reassurance earlier at the callback, bursting with excitement when he learned he could be part of “Wonder.” His enthusiasm inspired Jeanne to reconsider her initial refusal.
When she first learned about the musical in April—right after Max’s urgent hospital visit to treat a fistula—that moment marked the beginning of her internal struggle. The diagnosis had been daunting, and she worried about Max’s emotional well-being. Yet, the craniofacial specialist mentioned that the creative team was seeking children with craniofacial differences to play Auggie. This spark of hope made her hesitant at first.
Having read “Wonder” shortly after Max’s birth, Jeanne hadn’t revisited it since. Their family hadn’t even watched the film, as the trailer alone was enough to reinforce her fears.
Reading the book was challenging because, while it conveyed a beautiful message about kindness and resilience, the reality of Max’s future seemed daunting. She knew how much he had already endured, and the thought of him facing similar struggles filled her with dread.
But Max’s unwavering positivity shifted her perspective.
He looked at her during her initial “no,” and replied simply, “How cool would it be to be part of something that teaches kindness and shows people that we want to be treated just like everyone else?”
Jeanne recalls being taken aback when Max quietly whispered, “Yes,” during her interview, signaling his determination.
Just after Max was cast, Jeanne listened to the script at her first full read-through. It nearly knocked the air out of her, as she found herself swallowing her emotions to avoid her son noticing. But Max, sitting nearby, started scooting his chair as well, and her phone buzzed with texts offering support. She realized then that Max’s authenticity and resilience reflected his true self. She hadn’t read “Wonder” until he was cast as Auggie—she’d opted to avoid it during his surgeries, but he devoured it in just two nights, often crying as he read.
The decision to cast children with craniofacial differences in the leading role—something the film never depicted—magnifies the real-life challenges Max has faced. Jeanne agrees that the show makes audiences laugh, cry, dance, feel angry, and ultimately, hope, because it stays authentic and emotionally honest.
One early scene captures Jeanne’s own fears—she drop-offs Auggie for his first day of school praying for kindness. This scene resonates deeply because Jeanne has lived that anxiety. When Auggie’s classmate Julian mocks his love for “Star Wars,” it’s a moment of vulnerability. Later, Jeanne sings to her son, “I hope you know, you are beautiful / brighter than a sky full of stars / oh Auggie, what a wonder you are,” a song Jeanne affectionately describes as perfect. Many viewers, including myself, were visibly moved during these moments.
As the story unfolds, Auggie himself faces moments of exclusion—hiding during school pictures, feeling excited on Halloween when he can wear a mask, only to be hurt when a friend repeats cruel comments about his face under peer pressure. This leads to a cultural divide within his class, where some students bond with Auggie, and others become distant.
Yet, as tension builds, some children begin to understand Auggie’s perspective and change. His confidence grows, and in a defining moment, he confronts his bullies on stage, performing “Stare” once more—an act that deeply touched Jeanne during the callback. This emotional journey culminates in a standing ovation.
Max, after the show, joins his family in the lobby, where they celebrate his role. Despite missing home and family for months, Max feels joy and pride, signing autographs for fans and inspiring others with his story—especially a young girl with a craniofacial difference, who poses with him for a photo holding a “Wonder” poster.
These touching interactions reinforce Jeanne’s belief that all the sacrifices her family made are worthwhile. Connecting with those who see themselves reflected in Max’s story—that is the real reward.
“Seeing how this story affects others, how proud they feel, makes all the long days and missed holidays meaningful,” Jeanne says. “It’s why we’re here, why we’re doing this.”
Since opening in December at Harvard’s American Repertory Theater—a historic venue known for pioneering productions—“Wonder” continues to be a compelling and popular show, with many performances sold out or nearly so. Jeanne and Max hope the audience keeps coming, because they’ve witnessed firsthand how powerful these stories are.
For Jeanne, this experience has been a profound healing, allowing her to move past dark memories of surgeries. She even jokingly says she hopes she’s done with the book forever. Meeting Palacio in person during a recent presentation of the musical brought a strange catharsis—she nervously told her that she disliked her book at first, out of fear for Max’s future. But now, she sees how far her son has come, and how sharing his story has helped so many.
All these years, Jeanne has carried the weight of her worries, but it’s Max’s humor, warmth, and unwavering optimism that have helped her see a new path. She emphasizes that her son’s diagnosis never defined him, but became just part of his journey—a chapter, not his whole story.
Reflecting on this, Jeanne admits that the darkest moments of their past are fading into the background. The spotlight on Max and this story has brought light and healing. She describes her family’s journey as one of resilience and growth, with Max leading the way.
When Jeanne first learned of her son’s craniofacial condition during an ultrasound, she was advised simply not to let it define him. She’s done her best to honor that advice, and now, it’s Max’s own character—his humor, kindness, and resilience—that truly define him. As our interview concludes, Max, backstage, is already thinking about returning to Utah and resuming a normal life. He’s aware of upcoming surgeries but isn’t concerned, joking that he’s already “done 7th grade like 50 times.” His love for the story and his role in “Wonder” continues to inspire all of those around him, showing that with courage and hope, we can face even the toughest challenges.
