Hop on Pop

"Hey, has anyone seen Calvin?"

Nope.

No, Ms. Ryane.

I think he's outside, Ms. Ryane!

And he was. Wandering the quad alone.

"Hi, Calvin."

Hi.

This was a forlorn "hi" from a sad-looking kid.

"What'cha doin' out here, Calvin?"

Scuff, scuff. Rub the top of the head. Look this way and that.

I guess lookin' for my dad.

Calvin is in fifth grade and in his final year of Shakespeare Club. In third grade, he was a sailor in "Twelfth Night." For the following two years, he took on the role of lighting operator. He was so adept last year on "Macbeth" that we doubled up his cues for this year's show.

He wanted someone — a certain someone — to see him run that lighting board.

Calvin struggles academically. There was some talk of possibly holding him back from middle school for a year...but the boy can operate lights.

Calvin is in pain on the home front. Dad.

I guess lookin' for my dad.


Oliver is playing Demetrius. Oliver had a phone conversation with his dad before the morning show. He was looking for some encouragement from the man. The man in his life who lives in another house and would not be showing up to see Oliver's Demetrius.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing, I or anyone else can do or say to make up for these AWOL fathers.

"Come inside, Calvin, you have a show to run. The actors need your lights. Maybe your dad'll show up."

Yeah.

Shuffle. Head down. Hoodie up.

"I know, Calvin. I know how great your work is and I will never forget how you operated that lighting board."

Calvin takes his place at the back of the auditorium with the rest of the crew. The audience is excited and loud. I step onstage to engage with each actor for a last-minute pep talk.

"Oliver, have a blast. Oliver...Oliver, look at me. What is it?"

He scans the house.

Nothin' I guess.

"Oliver, other kids are going to want to act and other people will go to the theatre again because of your work....You are that good. Believe me?"

Yeah.

I guess lookin' for my dad.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

Dear my true love,

I miss you dearly. I can't wait to see you. You make my day every time I talk, and see you. I couldn't find a guy like you. I hope one day we get married. When you talk it is soft and gently.

P.S. Your sunshine girl

—Natalie, 5th grade

The Stage Manager: Celia

Celia began her adventures with The Shakespeare Club when she was in third grade. Inside Celia's head, she was a star. As Celia saw herself, she was a big-voiced, center stage-stealing headliner. At a mere eight years old, Celia found me and said, "I don't want to be an ocean maker."

In our production of "Twelfth Night," six girls were required to wave long swatches of gauzy fabric in waves. These roles were not actual parts. They were not star-making parts and clearly not in Celia's game plan.

I understood ocean maker was not Celia's idea of acting, but we had voice work to do before she could take on a role like Viola.

Over our three years together, Celia and I worked on her small voice as her elegant body grew taller into what could be mistaken for a runway model's physique.

Celia, two years ago.

By her second year in the club, Celia recalibrated her goals and became the club's stage manager. She settled into the role, was good at it, and appeared to enjoy it. Stage managers must have good voices and Celia continued to find hers. It was Celia's job to call lighting and sound cues, and to give the actors notes after run-throughs.

Celia drew her spine upright as she shared measured thoughts to the group. The cast also sat up straight to receive Celia's help. No one dared mock Celia. No one questioned her opinions. Everyone waited, still and quiet, as Celia spoke.

These are a sample of Celia's notes:

When Helena and Hemeria have their little chat in the beginning every time one of them talk it should be louder than the other

Bailey use the other hand so the audience can see you

Bailey that was perfect when you woke up from your dream

Donkey don't cover Peter

Phoebe don't face your back against the audience

Kamili when Sam comes in you were very good because you spoke loud and clear

Sam and Peter good acting for bieng an actor for the performance

Carina don't get yourself dizzy

Broadway stage managers, take note of these notes. Fair and balanced. Encouraging and correcting. Delivered in a small but clear voice from a tall and caring leader.

Celia is off to middle school next year, and it's an adieu I do not want to make.



CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

My goal for shakespeare club is and was to speak a little higher. I kind of did but I still could speak up.

What I learned was that you don't just have to be important when you are an actor but the whole point you are supposed to be on stage.

What I loved were the plays.

I will miss you Miss Ryan

—Celia, 5th grade

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow...Back Here Today

Some things should not surprise me and yet...

Every single year they do.

I speak of the "Ms. Ryane, we're moving and I won't be here next year!" conversation that I fall for every time I hear it.

As we neared the end of The Shakespeare Club season I was tossed this sentence from: Henry, Wendy, Garth, Oliver, Krystal, Dominick and Mary.

Indeed, Garth was moving to Texas and Mary to a new school. The others either convinced their families to stay put for a while or misheard adult conversations.

With the exception of Henry, who was up and down and hither and yon on a weekly basis. He kept trying to let me down easy on his possible departure and then the family plans changed again and then...well, this went on for months.


"Ms. Ryane, we're moving. New school, new apartment 'cause we need to be closer to my mom's work."

"Henry, I'm so disappointed. That would be sad if you couldn't be here in fifth grade for Shakespeare Club."

"I know," he shrugged and then wrapped his arms around me.

After the performances of "Macbeth" — all four of which his mother was able to attend — a new idea sprang forth.

In earlier posts I told the story of Henry and his mother's terrible health scare during the year he played Malvolio in our "Twelfth Night." Henry and his little brother had to move far away to stay with relatives and I thought it was goodbye forever. As mom's health improved, Henry came back to our school and joined the cast of "Macbeth" for 2010.

I heard from his mother after "Macbeth" finished. It was true that Henry and his brother would be entering a new school in the fall of 2010, but she hoped that somehow we could include Henry in Shakespeare Club since they would be on our campus for after-school activities anyway.

"He'll have to audition," I wrote to her.

He did audition and he also is on the list for 2011 because in a special-case scenario, Henry will be dismissed early from class on Wednesdays and I will pick him up at his other school and bring him to our campus for Shakespeare Club.

What I will do when Henry goes to the sixth and seventh grades, or high school, or college, is a mystery. I haven't solved those challenges yet.

I need a "don't grow-up" pill.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I wanted to be in Shackspeare club because I love to act and this was my chance. I will miss being on stage and acting and miss all my friends. I will defiantly miss Ms. Ryane and Ms. Rachel Ill also miss all the reaersals that we had I will always remember this year.

—Page, 3rd grade

An Interview: Henry

I recorded a series of interviews with actors from the 2010 Shakespeare Club. This is the first, with Henry.


mel: Why don't you tell us what grade you're in.

henry: I'm in fourth grade.

And what parts have you played in the Shakespeare Club?

I have played Malvolio in "Twelfth Night" and I have played King Duncan in "Macbeth."

Why did you think when you were in third grade that you even wanted to be in the club?

When I was in third grade...when I was in second grade and I saw the third-, fourth- and fifth-graders do the play it inspired me to do it myself.


Excellent. And what was your feeling about playing a part, say, like Malvolio?

My feeling was just great. I loved being funny. The yellow garter stockings really warmed my legs. [laughs]

What did you think about playing King Duncan?

Best time ever. I had good lines. I had one speech but it was a good one. And I loved my part, so that's about King Duncan.

And what would you say that you learned about yourself being in Shakespeare Club for two years?

I've learned that being in Shakespeare makes you feel great. It just makes you want to do more and more acting.

So like did you feel scared at first and then got confident, or what happened?

Yeah. Third grade I was so scared to put on the play. But now I'm like, "Hey, fine with me!"

What was your favorite thing about the performance day?

The whole performance day...oooh, that's a tough one. I'd have to say everything about that day. The play, my family coming, the presents I get.

Wow, what presents did you get?

Last year I got Mario Party 8 and a new sweater. This year, since I'm into this new thing called "Warriors" that I'm starting to read, I got two "Warriors" books.

What advice would you give to kids who think, "I'd like to be in Shakespeare Club but I'm not sure." What would you say to them?

Do it [big thumbs up] and you'll have the funnest time in your life. Serious.


Do you have any advice to make Shakespeare Club better?

Um. No, it's always perfect every year.

What did you like best about the story of Macbeth?

Um, well, I think the best part about Macbeth...the best part...was when Macbeth gives the speech...all the speeches are like beautiful speeches.

You mean the writing?

Yeah.

What do you think the audience should learn from seeing a play like "Macbeth"?

Don't be greedy. Don't be selfish. And if you're in England and your wife says to kill the King...don't do it, man, I'm serious! [big smile]

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

Revenge

When Malcom's dad dies I wanted to find the person who did to my father. I want to be in the place where my father wanted me in. I wanted to take some one's head off but didn't want to die in Scotland. I wanted revenge when Macduff suspected me as the murderer. I wanted to help Macduff get revenge because Macbeth was evil.

—Mark, 4th grade

One Day

I'm often told, "Mel, you're changing children's lives."

And I always answer, "They're changing my life."

This is true and I'm not ducking the compliment. What these children are learning and doing for themselves in The Shakespeare Club cannot be underestimated. I'm proud of my commitment and every year impressed by what we accomplish.

I ran into Luis one afternoon on the campus. Luis played Andrew Aguecheek in last year's production of "Twelfth Night." He was in the club for three years and is now in sixth grade at the middle school up the street.

"Luis!" I gushed.

"Hey, Ms. Ryane."

He did not gush. Luis was a little shy with me, as if all we'd been through was a distant memory. That's how time floats by when you're a kid. Summer vacations are endless and by Labor Day your pants are too short. For Luis his time onstage was eons past.

I gave him a quick hug anyway and said, "I miss your acting, Luis."

"Yeah."

"How's sixth grade?"

"It's okay, I guess."

"You get a locker, right?"

"Yeah."

"How's it going with the reading?"

"I'm reading more, like you told me."

"Great!" more gushing from me. I was thrilled that he remembered something of my influence.

I figure it'll hit them one day, someday when they're about thirty-eight. They'll think, There was this crazy lady and I did Shakespeare and I was...hmmm...I was really, really good at it.

"You're tall, Luis. I see the inches. You're about as tall as Andrew Aguecheek now."

Luis laughed. "Yeah."

Good, got him.

"Keep up the reading, Luis. Come by on May 27 and see 'Macbeth'."

"Yeah, okay."

That wouldn't happen. He wouldn't be there to see the show. Maybe he forgot. Maybe his parents couldn't bring him. Maybe it would be too difficult to see other kids up there doing what he loved and did so well.

I was driving past the middle school another afternoon and saw Luis walking home with a group of lanky boys. Behind them I saw Geoffrey and his sister Kate. And further along a few others from years past. I wanted to roll down the window and shout "Shakespeare Club!" But that would have been dumb and they'd have been embarrassed.

So, sometimes I see them up close and sometimes I see them afar and always I remember each and every one and miss them.

I planted seeds. They've taken root and one day they'll remember.

Maybe.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

What it means to be a best friend or have a best friend is to always do the right thing. For your friend and always help them. And to responsible of your friend is like if my friend was in trouble I would help them or if I was in trouble he would help me.

—Garth, 4th grade

Duly Noted: Celia

When Celia joined The Shakespeare Club last year, she desperately wanted to act — and I desperately wanted her to — but she could not find her voice. She assured me that inside her head she had a big voice, but it wasn't coming out. Celia played non-speaking roles in "Twelfth Night."

This year I asked if she would like to be our stage manager and she agreed. I gave her the special stage manager's binder with pencils, paper, an eraser, script and cast list.


By the time we were ready to try run-throughs, I asked Celia take to notes that she would deliver to the cast. I recommended that she be gentle because the actors were nervous about their work.

She designed two columns in her binder:

COMPLIEMENTS	CHANGES
Dom: good voice Horor	Witches: don't fade at the end
Garth: good vioce	Bettina: speak louder
Millie: holding the baby keep up with the voice	Natalie: fase forward when others speak
Oliver: good acting, tommarrow wife dead	Phoebe: speak up
Oliver, Dom: good fighting	Murders: neal like there is a King
Good job: Mark when find out about your father dieing	Garth: speak properly Villiones crime
Lizzie: good job, Beyond my practice...	Party: don't talk in backround or drag your feet, don't play around
Good Job Everybody	Chloe: hurry with what you need to do

Celia found her voice and they listened.


CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I would like to know,.....

1. If I'm going to be rich
2. going to be poor
3. where I would live
4. if I'm going to have a lot of clothes
5. if I'm going to have kids
6. how many kids I'm going to have
7. If I'm going to have a big house
8. what my kids would look like
9. what my kids names would be
10. how I would look like

—Celia, 4th grade

The Votes Are In

Be assured the theatre world does not operate as a democracy. Nor should it. The first rule of Shakespeare Club: Listen to your director and do as she asks.

However, it can be beneficial to occasionally give the actors a vote. Every April, when William Shakespeare's birthday shows up mid-month, we take time off from rehearsal and celebrate with a party. This year I decided to let the kids decide if we should proceed with that plan.

"Okay, here's the deal. We only have a few more weeks of rehearsal. Really, in a month, you're going to be onstage and Ms. Rachel and I won't be. We won't be up there reminding you of when you enter a scene or what you say or what you do."

"Are you going to stay home?" Ellie asked.

"No, no. I'll be in the front row watching and taking notes. Ms. Rachel will be at the back with your stage manager and the sound and light crew."

A couple of club members already knew this because they'd done "Twelfth Night" the year before, but the majority of the group hadn't ever seen a play, much less acted in one, and this was suddenly a dizzying concept.

"So like what happens...like what if someone messes up?" Ellie pursued.

"You'll figure it out."

"And also what do we do if no one comes to see the play?" Ellie again.

I could sense this girl was in for some sleepless nights.

"We do it anyway."

The kids shuffled in their seats, shared doubtful looks and worried.

In my first year of Shakespeare Club, I mentioned to the then-principal that the children seemed scared.

"That's okay, Mel" she said. "It's not a bad thing for them to be scared once in a while."

"So, I'm going to give you each a piece of paper and you're going to write your vote on whether we should have a party next week or if we should use the time to rehearse."

"Should we write our names on it?" asked Mark.

"No names will be necessary. Just write 'yes' or 'no' and we'll count them up."

They did as they were asked and I collected the folded squares into a bag. While they started their journal writing, Rachel and I opened the votes.

Of course, I fully expected twenty "yes" votes to scream off the papers. I did not expect the four "no" votes. Rachel and I shared surprised glances.

"Well, the votes have been counted."

They leaned forward in their chairs.

"Looks like next week we'll be..."

They leaned in further, on the verge of a tipsy-over.

...having a party."

Mayhem.

"I must say, however, that not everyone agrees. Some among you think we should be rehearsing next week and one person who voted 'yes' also wrote that everyone should take home their scripts and practice their lines."

"That was me!" Ellie cried leaping out of her chair.

Surprise surprise.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I regret that one tie I was climbing in this big tree in my yard. I had a baby doll in my hand and I was going across a medium sized gap. Then my doll fell so I started to reach for it and I let go of the tree and I hit a railrod track and my hed was bleeding and I was crying so hard. I loved the doll so mutch. I just let go. I was 6 years old..

—Ellie, 4th grade

cartoon panel from LOLpups

Thematically Speaking

"All right, see these three words?"

On the board I've written: POWER. LOVE. REVENGE.

"These are the three main themes of William Shakespeare's plays. Remember last year when we did 'Twelfth Night'?"

Just mention that title and Henry springs to life.

"Good, good memories, Ms. Ryane. That was the best!"

The kid is never going to get over playing Malvolio, ever.

"Okay, so of these three words, what do you think the characters of 'Twelfth Night' wanted the most?"

"It was a comedy!" Henry puts forth.

"Right, it was a comedy. This could get a tad confusing for you guys. His plays were comedies, tragedies, histories and romances, but today we're talking about themes. What the characters want."

"What do you mean...that word...tad?" Garth asks.

It's so easy to slip off topic. We're about one second away from — oh boy, here it comes. "Yes, Mary?"

"When do we get snacks?"

"Snacks in a while and tad means a little. What did Viola, Orsino, Malvolio and Olivia want? What did all the characters in that play want most?'

"Love," whispers Celia.

"Bingo! They all wanted love. Look at the three words and tell me, what do the characters in 'Macbeth' want?"

"Are we going to play bingo?" Mark wants to know.

"What does Macbeth want?" I ignore that last comment.

"Power!" cries Oliver.

"Right, I think that's right."

"Not me!" Dominick answers. "I want revenge because Macbeth killed my whole family."

"That's true, Dominick. I think you do want revenge."

"Me too," adds Mark. "Macbeth killed Malcolm and Donalbain's dad!"

"Also true, but I think if we had to choose one overriding theme, it would be power. Remember I told you the story of 'Hamlet'? That would be an example of a play with a main theme of revenge."

I glance over at the bag of Little Cutie oranges and another with protein bars. It would be so easy to just feed them snacks and forget the themes. So, so easy and maybe I could work in a nap.

"What's the theme of 'Romeo and Juliet'?"

"Love!"

"Easy. Okay, open your journals and here's your theme for today: I want to see an essay of when you wanted power in your life. Go!"


And they open their journals. And they check out their pencils, and even though I've freshly sharpened each one, some need another sharpening because it's fun to stick a pencil in the whirring gadget. Others want an eraser even though not a word has been written. Everyone eyes the bags of food. And off we go writing and eating, scribbling and munching.

"Ms. Ryane, can I share?" Henry calls.

"Henry, you can share but you have to write first. You can't just make stuff up once you're up here. Write first."

Eat, write, share.

Power. Love. Revenge.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: Journal Entries

When I wanted power when I got punshed for something my sister did. I wish I could be a witch, so I could cast a spell on my sister so she would not lie. Eventually, I told my parents but, of course, they didn't beleive me. I would love to prove myself right anyday.

—Darby, 5th grade

I wanted power when I went to camp. I wanted power at camp because it was boring. We only waked-up, ate, then started to pick up trash. But I have to admit that in the night it was kind of cool because we roasted marshmellows and saw bears.

—Bettina, 5th grade

A Moth: Darby, Part I

April, 2010

"Darby, I have something I'd like to read to you."

"Okay, Ms. Ryane."

We're sitting outside her classroom at a picnic table. I've taken Darby out of class for this time together. I open up a sheet of paper and read aloud.

"I want to be in Shakespeare Club because I love acting. Since it's my last year and my third and last in the Shakespeare Club, I want to finish this year with an awesome show."

I hold out the typed copy of Darby's journal writing. She studies it and hands it back to me. I refold the paper and try to meet her eyes as we sit across from each other at the blue metal table. Darby's face is half covered in long locks of her brown hair. She's grown her bangs into a curtain.

"I believe you meant that when you wrote it and I still believe you mean it, but I'm having trouble seeing it. It's like you've stopped caring. Like you're bored or I don’t know what."

"I was just having a bad day, Ms. Ryane. I'll try, I'll do better," she whispers.

When Darby was eight years old and in her first year of the club, I was told by her teacher that she rarely spoke in class. This was not my experience with her. She played Tybalt in "Romeo and Juliet" that year and each week gained traction, voice-wise. By the performance date, Darby was enthusiastically playing her role. In one performance, after she was killed, she rolled sideways across the stage back to her seat. An efficient and creative choice, I thought.

Last year Darby was a musician in "Twelfth Night." She helped write her own composition, practiced and made all of her cues.

This year she has a prominent but easy role as Narrator Two, with a side chore of cueing the actors when they call "Line!" She has nothing to memorize because she's only required to read aloud from a script. And she's failing. Crashing. Falling apart, failing.

"Darby, you're late."

"Darby, the cue."

"Darby, stand up."

My endless nagging has not helped. Nagging rarely does. But I'm at a loss and this isn't our first conversation about the problem. I've asked, "How can I help you? Tell me how and I'll do it."

"I'll try harder," she answers every time I bring it up.

"Darby, this isn't about one bad day, this is every day." I brush my fingers across her forehead, looking for her eyes. Her face is as pale as moonlight, her eyes large and dark and her body thin as a needle. "Sometimes I look across the room at you and it's as if you've floated like a moth up to the ceiling...far away. Where are you, Darby? What's happening? Are you nervous about moving on to middle school?"

"A little."

"What else?"

"It's home."

"Okay."

"It's my parents and...."

"What? They don't understand you? They think something's wrong with you?"

"Yeah...yeah...and I don't know...it's just bad and I can't...they tell me not to say...because...."

"Because it's private."

She nods and looks at her hands.

"Okay, you don't have to say anything to me about this. I can see you're having a rough time but I will tell you this: When I was your age I had a tough time at home and the one thing I knew was that onstage I had all the power. So do you."

"Yeah." This comes out in a sigh.


"Okay, here's the deal, I'm going to take away your job as prompter. Faith will do that because the other actors need those cues. You already have two x's and I'm giving you one more chance on Wednesday to do your part. If you really can't, I will have to replace you. I don't want to do that, Darby, because I can't think of anything more painful than if you had to come into the auditorium with your class and watch 'Macbeth' instead of being up there in it. I still believe what you wrote, that you want this to be an awesome show. Okay?"

I knew the minute this little speech was out of my mouth that threatening her was the worst possible route. I watched Darby lope back to her classroom with her limp hair, her head lolling and her shoulders drooping. I had one of those awful moments of knowing I blew it and was not clear on how to help or repair it.

The one clear piece of knowledge I had was I wouldn't be sleeping well that night.

A Moth: Darby, Part II
She Flutters: Darby, Part III

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

If I was a girl in the Elizabethan Period, I would try hard to earn my education and become a famous book writer. I would not like to have layers of clothing on top of me, when at home I would cook delicous meals, (including warm dinner rolls with melted butter inside. And do my very best to keep my family happy.

—Darby, 5th grade

Luck of the Irish: Natalie

March, 2010


King Duncan has two sons. The elder, Malcolm, becomes king at the end of "Macbeth" and the younger, Donalbain, remains a loyal prince. In our production, Mark plays Malcolm and nine-year-old Natalie plays Donalbain.


When the two sons are informed of their father's murder, they, with good reason, suspect they could be next on the assassination list. They decide it's best to get out of Dodge until the murderer is stopped. Malcolm flees to England and Donalbain to Ireland.

Some days it seems Natalie would also prefer to flee to Ireland rather than be in Room 42, where she has to know her lines both as a witch and as Donalbain. I've worked privately with Natalie, going over and over her lines. She knows them.

But Natalie doesn't trust that she knows them and insists on reading from her script.

"Natalie, be brave...just try...put it down and just try."

"Okay."


Down the script goes. She succeeds. But the next time we get to her Donalbain scene, that script is back in her hands. Look, I get it. It's a scary business standing center stage, talking to a boy, pretending to look at him and then, Oh no! Ms. Ryane comes up with the cockamamie idea that as the brothers seal their plan, the two actors should slap hands in a high-five. Touching a boy's hand and no script. That's got to be the limit.

When St. Patrick's Day rolled around, I had just returned from a trip to Louisiana, where the holiday is almost as big as Mardi Gras and green beads are everywhere.

"Natalie, I have a special duty for you today in Shakespeare Club."

"Okay."

I placed twenty necklaces of green shiny beads on her arm.


"You get to hand these out to all of your fellow actors today because it's St. Patrick's Day."

"Okay."

She's a very willing little girl.

"Why do you think I've chosen you for this task, Natalie?"

She blinks her dark brown eyes at me, leaks a small smile and shrugs.

"Where does St. Patrick's Day come from?"

"Ireland?" she guesses.

I wait. She thinks. I wait.

"Oh...oh, I know. 'Cause I go to Ireland, maybe?"

"Exactly. Donalbain goes to Ireland. Maybe he brings back souvenirs for his friends. And maybe when he was there, he learned his lines and doesn't need his script...what d'ya think?"

I overheard Natalie telling some other girls, "I know all my lines."

Next run-through, there she was, script tight in hand and reading her lines.

Maybe one day. Maybe she'll find her courage, take the risk and remember she has the luck of the Irish, this girl. She's already traveled all the way from Haiti to find her perfect family and to be our Donalbain.

Maybe one day.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

If I was a Elizabethan princess I would live in a cacell with husben and the servence. I would wear a beautiful dress and take nice baths in the morning. I will have cristals in my hair. I will go to William Shakespeare globe. Will I was there I would eat a nice meal like stake and potato and some desearts. I will have huge partys that princes comes over and wil'e William Shakespeare is do a song I have to dance with all of the princes and even William Shakespare.

—Natalie, 4th grade