It's not every day that you get to spend four hours with people you really like, laughing at everything and anything, bask in the adoration and the occasional scorn of hundreds of elementry school children, and take on the persona of one of the most famous dramatic roles ever. For me, its every Tuesday. For the last year and a half I have been part of a traveling Shakespeare show that performs for children in elementry schools all over the area, and today is my last day in the group.
I auditioned for the group two years ago, to play Orlando in "As You Like It." The director of the group, my friend Chris, said I was good but there just wasn't a part for me. Once I had spat out the bitter bile of failure, I moved on with life and tried again in the spring for the next year's show, "Cymbeline" and got in. I did that for two semesters, and of course had to do it again this year when I heard we'd be doing "Hamlet."
What was it about the idea of performing Shakespeare to children that intrigued me enough to keep auditioning for this group? In fact, I had been told by several fancy-schmancy acting type people that it would be a waste of my time and talent, and was advised to avoid the group at all cost. I have a nasty habit of ignoring advice, good or bad, but in this case I'm glad that I did. Not only was performing the show often fun and rewarding (excepting only that one junior high school in Magna) but I met some of the most amazing people and laughed more than in the rest of my week combined. Some of the friends I made are no longer in the group, like Adrian and Tim and of course Celeste, but some of those who were with me that first year are still part of the team I will be performing with in just a few hours. My darling Spencer, my dear friend Laura who is mad at me right now and has every right to be (I'm sorry, Laura), the delightful Debra, the ever irreverent Chris Clark, and our amazingly efficient and patient stage manager, Becky. We've been joined this semester with two new friends who have made this past semester so much fun: David and Fallon.
I can't quite explain how much I have looked forward to Tuesday afternoons for the past year and a half. Especially in the past semester, when performing the show has been such a joy. Our version of Hamlet is a bit goofy and simple, but I think its really solid with real substance to it that the kids really enjoy. There was a lot of concern that a stuffy old tragedy like Hamlet could never hold the attention of 2nd through 6th graders, but I'm here to tell you that every school we've been to so far has told us how amazed they were that the kids were as interested and focused on the play as they were. I think we underestimate kids, we expect little of them, we don't think them capable of very much. Most of them handle Hamlet just fine; true, we help them out and make it easier to understand, but in the end its still difficult material and they are getting it! They haven't been filled with notions of "Shakespeare is boring and impossible to understand" that so many adults have to get over. They are a blank canvas, and I'd like to think in my idealistic way that we are shaping their perceptions of the Bard and theater in a postive way that will last the rest of their lives.
And to be Hamlet! Even in a one hour children's theater adaptation, there is such a thrill to perform those famous lines, to take upon me the mantle of that mythic figure. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. But being Hamlet is only a small part of the fun of my Tuesday afternoons. The best part of the whole experience is riding in the van to and from the school, when we as a group of friends can talk and laugh and bring up old jokes and make new ones, make fun of cheesy Christmas songs, hear embarrassing stories from Chris's past, discuss inappropriate and awkward subjects with ease, spread gossip about famous people, and argue about where to eat.
That's what I'll miss most, my friends, when I'm stuck at work on Tuesdays from now on. I'll miss Arctic Circle, I'll miss singing in unison at the top of our lungs, I'll miss screaming "We're going to roll over!!!" every time Becky makes a slightly sharp turn, I'll miss the way Chris covers his mouth while giggling at something he knows is scandalous, the way Spencer enjoys being the ever-present butt-grabbing threat. I'll miss picking out the hot teacher, trying to convince jaded and cynical children that yes, this is a real sword, miss delivering the most famous lines of the English language right into the faces of ten year-olds, miss the inside jokes, the stories, the pranks, the bathroom humor (being delivered, as it is, in the bathroom). But most of all I'll miss you, my friends. I know most of you aren't doing the play next semester, but to those of you who are I just want to say: I hate you.
I auditioned for the group two years ago, to play Orlando in "As You Like It." The director of the group, my friend Chris, said I was good but there just wasn't a part for me. Once I had spat out the bitter bile of failure, I moved on with life and tried again in the spring for the next year's show, "Cymbeline" and got in. I did that for two semesters, and of course had to do it again this year when I heard we'd be doing "Hamlet."
What was it about the idea of performing Shakespeare to children that intrigued me enough to keep auditioning for this group? In fact, I had been told by several fancy-schmancy acting type people that it would be a waste of my time and talent, and was advised to avoid the group at all cost. I have a nasty habit of ignoring advice, good or bad, but in this case I'm glad that I did. Not only was performing the show often fun and rewarding (excepting only that one junior high school in Magna) but I met some of the most amazing people and laughed more than in the rest of my week combined. Some of the friends I made are no longer in the group, like Adrian and Tim and of course Celeste, but some of those who were with me that first year are still part of the team I will be performing with in just a few hours. My darling Spencer, my dear friend Laura who is mad at me right now and has every right to be (I'm sorry, Laura), the delightful Debra, the ever irreverent Chris Clark, and our amazingly efficient and patient stage manager, Becky. We've been joined this semester with two new friends who have made this past semester so much fun: David and Fallon.
I can't quite explain how much I have looked forward to Tuesday afternoons for the past year and a half. Especially in the past semester, when performing the show has been such a joy. Our version of Hamlet is a bit goofy and simple, but I think its really solid with real substance to it that the kids really enjoy. There was a lot of concern that a stuffy old tragedy like Hamlet could never hold the attention of 2nd through 6th graders, but I'm here to tell you that every school we've been to so far has told us how amazed they were that the kids were as interested and focused on the play as they were. I think we underestimate kids, we expect little of them, we don't think them capable of very much. Most of them handle Hamlet just fine; true, we help them out and make it easier to understand, but in the end its still difficult material and they are getting it! They haven't been filled with notions of "Shakespeare is boring and impossible to understand" that so many adults have to get over. They are a blank canvas, and I'd like to think in my idealistic way that we are shaping their perceptions of the Bard and theater in a postive way that will last the rest of their lives.
And to be Hamlet! Even in a one hour children's theater adaptation, there is such a thrill to perform those famous lines, to take upon me the mantle of that mythic figure. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. But being Hamlet is only a small part of the fun of my Tuesday afternoons. The best part of the whole experience is riding in the van to and from the school, when we as a group of friends can talk and laugh and bring up old jokes and make new ones, make fun of cheesy Christmas songs, hear embarrassing stories from Chris's past, discuss inappropriate and awkward subjects with ease, spread gossip about famous people, and argue about where to eat.
That's what I'll miss most, my friends, when I'm stuck at work on Tuesdays from now on. I'll miss Arctic Circle, I'll miss singing in unison at the top of our lungs, I'll miss screaming "We're going to roll over!!!" every time Becky makes a slightly sharp turn, I'll miss the way Chris covers his mouth while giggling at something he knows is scandalous, the way Spencer enjoys being the ever-present butt-grabbing threat. I'll miss picking out the hot teacher, trying to convince jaded and cynical children that yes, this is a real sword, miss delivering the most famous lines of the English language right into the faces of ten year-olds, miss the inside jokes, the stories, the pranks, the bathroom humor (being delivered, as it is, in the bathroom). But most of all I'll miss you, my friends. I know most of you aren't doing the play next semester, but to those of you who are I just want to say: I hate you.
Comments
Love,
The delightful Debra
And thanks for coining that name for me. I like being delightful.
When I open my eyes, the person I'm looking at will be VERY MISSED next semester....
BLINK!!!!
Becky