Hello Beautiful People,
Ten months ago, a friend of mine called me and told me that when she went out on her maternity leave as a theatre teacher, she’d like me to apply for the position, as she’d be venturing into her new position as mommy easy, knowing that the children who didn’t come from her womb would be ok. Taken care of. In good hands.
I hemmed and I hawed.
She was asking me to go head a program that my father had created.
And, quite frankly, he’s like a Demi-God in that district – and rightfully so. Because he’s that good of a director and teacher, with children and adults.
Those were big shoes to fill. And I didn’t know if I could do it. I didn’t know if I wanted to do it.
And I hemmed and I hawed.
And I interviewed – what the hell, right?
I truthfully did not expect to get the job..but, as fate would have it, I did.
And I accepted the postion.
Now, this job happened to combine two things I adore – directing and teaching.
Directing, well, I don’t think it’s ever easy. Do I think it’s the best thing in the world? Yes. Does it make my heart sing? Absolutely. Can I imagine doing anything else? I mean…I guess. But would I want to? NO. Is directing easy? No. And directing a group of young adults…well, that can prove to be even more challenging. Directing a group of young adults who’ve been taught by another coach for three years, and then coming in at the final stage? Well gee, that’s like the damn Olympics and taking away a person’s light. For a theatre teacher, a theatre coach, you are the light for the artist your directing. Your job is to help them see.
But here’s the thing — despite the ups and the downs, I am happy with the decision to take this job on. For these students, as much as they may drive me crazy at times, as much as they may make me yell, well, they have hearts of gold. They are young men and women that are about to embark on the college journey, young adults that are only just starting to find their footing in this world, and yet, I can see it clearly now — they will create goodness wherever they land. They have pushed me to be better, and required me to seek knowledge that I did not have. They have reminded me of something that I always used to say — we should never stop learning, regardless of your age or profession.
Tonight I stood at the back of their black box theatre.
And I watched them soar.
And I watched them transition from seniors in high school to the freshmen in college. And I got a bit teary eyed.
For they have reminded me, time and time again, of the beauty of theatre education. They have reaffirmed the notion that young people have voices that need to be heard. They have so much spark that has yet to be harnessed and cultivated, spark that I have seen, spark that I have tried to ignite, spark that has made me inspired.
See, they have made me a better director, teacher, and person. And even if they can’t see it themselves, I know they will leave this world better than they found it.
Congrats, my children.
You are golden, you are good, you are the future.
Now, go make some magic.
Live, Love, Learn,