Where's the Party?

March, 2010

A little bird in the form of a little brother had given me the heads-up, so I was prepared when I ran into Iris an hour before a Shakespeare Club meeting.

Iris joined the club last year as a replacement and, now in fourth grade, assured me that she "really, really wanted in" this year. She's a fair child, blue of eye and off-the-charts sophisticated for her age. Last year she harbored a crush on Nathan and wrote in her journal of wanting "to watch the sun set, on a beach with Nathan." That girl's ready for a glass of chardonnay and a cigarette, I thought.

"Hey, Iris."

"Hi, Ms. Ryane."

"Shakespeare Club today," I chirped while organizing materials for our meeting.

"Well, Ms. Ryane, I can't come today."

"Hmmm. Would this be because of a certain birthday party?"

"Yes. So, I can't come today."

I sat down and faced her straight-on. "Here's the deal, Iris. You can't miss Shakespeare Club for a birthday party. You're part of a team here. Everyone counts on everyone else. You and your parents were told at the beginning that attendance is mandatory. So, if you choose to go to that party you'll be kicked out of Shakespeare Club."

I ran into Darby a while later and she had the same story and I delivered the same warning. "If the party starts at three I don't think it'll be over by four-thirty. I'd be happy to take you later, Darby, but you have to be here for rehearsal or you're out."

As the group lined up for warm-ups, Lizzie handed me Iris' script and a letter. I scanned the note, a missive apparently sent from Iris' corporate headquarters. I spotted her walking off with a wheelie suitcase in tow.

"Iris," I called. She looked, I crooked my finger and she strolled over.

"I am disappointed by your choice, Iris. It's too late to replace you. Are you absolutely certain you want to do this?"

Iris dropped her eyes and firmly bobbed her head, once. She looked like a novice renouncing all worldly goods.


"Okay, I respect your decision but you have to tell them."

We stood side by side and waited for the group. I rested my palm between Iris' shoulder blades. We looked like a ventriloquist act.

"Iris has something she would like to say to you."

She closed her eyes and took a breath.

"I'm quitting Shakespeare Club. I'm sorry."

And off she marched, straight-backed, tugging her wheelie suitcase as if about to board a flight.

I later told the kids what had transpired and how pleased I was that Darby made another choice by staying with us.

Dear Ms. Ryan,
I do not want to be in Shakespeare anymore. No, it's not because of the birthday party.

[When someone says "it's not because of," it's usually because of.]

Shakespeare just doesn't make me happy like last year.

[Nathan's gone.]

It would be better to let someone in Shakespeare who wasn't in it last year or any year. I'm in room 39 if you want to come talk to me.
Iris

Iris comes from a single-parent home. When I dropped Darby off at the party I spoke to Iris' mom and passed on the info of her daughter's choice.

"Oh, it's probably because I told the kids we're moving," the mother commented.

"You're moving? When?"

"April first."

"And when were you going to tell me?"

"Oh, I thought we'd tell everyone once I signed my contract."

How should this girl be expected to honor a commitment?

I hammered out a letter for all the members to take home. I reminded parents and guardians that I was a volunteer, that they'd agreed to the commitment and that we were halfway through the season without having enjoyed full attendance even once.

Gee whiz, I wouldn't mind going to a party myself.

The next week I gave Iris her journal and said it was hers to keep. I assured her that I was not angry.

[When someone says they're "not angry," they're likely fuming.]

Deep breath, arms high. "Hello sun!"


CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I want to be in Shakespeare Club because I love to act and I consider myself a good acter. One day, I hope to be an actor along with many other things. I think this is a good way to get started...plus its really fun.

What I leaned about Willian Shakespeare

1. He died on his Birthday
2. He had two sisters who died
3. His father went into debt
4. He was 70 years old when he died.

—Iris, 4th grade

bluebird by George Coghill

Where Do They Come From?

March, 2010

Charles Laughton (1899-1962) started his acting career in England after his parents agreed to let him study at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. Among his many Shakespearean roles, Laughton played Macbeth at the Old Vic theatre. His stage career led to a successful cinematic career. His starring roles included those in "Mutiny on the Bounty," "The Private Lives of Henry VIII," "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" and his Oscar-winning performance in "Witness for the Prosecution."

I don't know where you stand on the idea of reincarnation. I'm not sure where I stand on it, but I'm beginning to be swayed by its possibilities. I think Charles Laughton has returned.

When nine-year-old Oliver arrived for his audition, I asked if he would like to read the material or if he had learned it.

"I learned it," Oliver stated with a clear and serious look.

Oliver is a big boy. Oliver doesn't skip or run on the playground. Oliver lumbers.


He launched into the Shakespearean text. I suggested he try it again with the idea that he could really let loose on those critters in the forest. He listened and delivered a new take. I gave additional direction having to do with the punctuation in the four lines. Oliver walked toward me, looked down to examine the commas and semi-colons, ran his finger over the sheet of paper, gave me a quick nod and returned to give a third version. He did this with the authority of a professional in a rehearsal hall.

"Oliver, I'm not sure you've ever really found your 'thing.' I mean that 'thing' that you're special at."

Oliver listened, expressionless.

"I think today, my friend, you may have found your 'thing.' When you act, I get goose bumps. You don't know yet how much power you have, Oliver, but I'm telling you that you have a lot. Oliver, I think you are an actor."

The smile avalanched across his face. He didn't move any other part of his body. He didn't take a step or jump or throw his arms skyward. He smiled and I knew in that moment whatever lay in store for this year, however up and down it might be, I had a Macbeth. This year, when frustrations showed up, as they always do, I would know across the room waiting to find his light was this boy.

Welcome home, Sir Charles Laughton.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I want to be in Shakespeare club because I want to learn more about William Shakespeare.

Also I hope at least some people make it to the Honor roll also me. I hope everybody has a good time. With out somebody leaving. Here are some of the three things I learned today William Shakespeare cried like me when I was a Baby, he had a girlfriend, also he became a world wide fonmonnon.

He was 52 when he died.

—Oliver, 4th grade

Hard News: To Parent or Not...

My work with the children in the Shakespeare Club is hugely satisfying to me, but not a sad substitute for maternal experience. My husband and I made a clear choice with no regrets. As chilly as this may sound, I relish a life that includes a full night's sleep and the freedom to read a newspaper start to finish.


I am in no position to be handing out parenting advice but am comfortable sharing the reportage of others who have done their research. To date, I have never had a child in The Shakespeare Club who bears the behavioral traits of any cited here but I live in Los Angeles and know they're out there.

Are You Raising a D*****bag? (Details)

I'm a good girl, I am!

March, 2010

Lord and Lady Macbeth harbor secret desires to live as crowned royalty in the Castle of Dunsinane. Macbeth, a war hero with visions of grandeur, returns home to a wife bored out of her mind. Lady Macbeth, stuck out in the country while her husband is off managing his lovely military career, is ready for an uptick.

Shakespeare doesn't let us in on this fun couple's pillow talk but I like to imagine their dead-of-night whispers.

"I know I could run this country better than Duncan...I just know it!"

"What I could do with the dining hall....Oh, the parties....That wallpaper is a crime....I mean, what were they thinking?"

On a long walk home from war, Macbeth and his friend Banquo climb upon a heath and meet a coven of witches. The hags fill Macbeth's head with premonitions: You are not only Thane of Glamis but soon will be Thane of Cawdor. You'll not only be Thane of Cawdor but soon King of Scotland.

Macbeth scribbles out a letter to his wife, she goes berserk with excitement and lickety-split the bodies start piling up. And as these things go, fear and suspicion walk hand-in-hand with guilt and no one gets a good night's sleep.

MACBETHMethought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast,—

LADY MACBETHWhat do you mean?

MACBETHStill it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house:
'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.'

Macbeth Act II, Scene II

Sleep-deprived and panic-rattled, the murdering couple collapse under the weight of their guilty consciences.

I asked the kids to open a fresh page in their journals and write about a time when they might have done something they regretted, something they felt bad about.

"Oh, Ms. Ryane?"

"Yes, Millie?"

"I can't do this."

"Really, why is that?"

"Because I'm a good girl. I never did a bad thing."

"Mmmm, I see." I looked over the group as they stopped writing and noted Millie's comment.

"Does anyone else have the problem Millie has? The problem of being too good?"

A few eager hands shot up.

"Then here's the news for guys: You can't be actors if you can't even imagine doing something naughty."

Say no more. Those pencils screeched across the paper, lickety-split.


CHILDREN'S WRITES: Journal Entries

I would love to have a ipod! I would love to have itotch (?). I would love to have a bunk-bed, without the bottom bunk. So...I would steal my mom's ipod, take my dad's itoch, and trade beds with my brother.

—Millie, 3rd grade

One time I told my mom I would go to the bathroom, but I went to eat candy. Then my mom said why is it taking so long. Then my came in looking angry. I was eating a Kit Kat. Then she found out. I started to cry because I knew it was wrong.

—Phoebe, 4th grade

What I was sorry for and I regretted is my spelling test that I did in class. And I realy wish that I good go back in time but it just hit me that I am unable to do that And whats so special about that test is that it could make my mom proud so I cheated and I got cought and I wish I could regret it and I got a big big zero.

—Garth, 4th grade

If I was lady mickbeth and I realy wanted to kill King Dungken just to be come qeen I woulden't do it even if Lady mickbeth did it. I wont even of my consens wich is the devil sais to. I wont becous my good consens told me to do the good thing. Because even if I did kill King Dungkin I wouldn't.

—Lizzie, 4th grade

Those Pesky Rules

Way back in Year Two of The Shakespeare Club we had a fifth-grade member named Emily. She played Polonius in our "Hamlet." Emily was an eager participant. She asked intelligent questions about Hamlet's motives. She was curious to know what an "arras" was since she would be stabbed to death by Hamlet on the other side of such a thing.

Emily was a lively, funny and super-bright kid. She only had one year with the club but left an imprint that stays with us year after year.

At our first meeting, I introduce the kids to the club rules and mottos.


They understand listening to the director. Some wrestle to find courage. So far, I haven't detected whining. The most difficult rule to abide is: "Never tells another actor what to do."

These are little kids, so I get that struggle. However, I've never been in a single rehearsal hall or on a single film set where the concept is entirely disregarded by adult professionals. Quite often in the guise of "Oh, that's how you're going to do that?" or "Just my two cents but I was wondering if she could..." or "I can't do this if he does that...."

In our club, the kids catch each other breaking that rule and then tell each other so. It's a never-ending circle but at least they understand that there is a rule.


Then we learn the mottos and this is where Emily's legacy takes hold.

The children start with: "We are The Shakespeare Club!" then voice the list of mottos, ending with:

"If I can do Shakespeare, I can do anything!"

When Emily first shouted it out, she crooked her elbow and gave a "gosh, darn" gesture along with stomping her foot. It was corny and perfect. The kids and I thought it was a riot and it stuck. Every year a couple of seasoned members will pass along the routine and it has become a favorite moment.

Emily moved to another neighborhood and I never saw her again after the "Hamlet" season. I like to think she would be pleased to know that every time an actor swipes his arm across his chest and yells out that line, I think of her and her funny Polonius peeping out from behind the arras.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I want to be in shakespeare club because I want to do plays. I want to be a real Actor, I know shakespeare club will be fun, I love part when it says If I can do shakespeare I can do anything!

Today in shakespeare I leard what a real Actor does. I leard what the shakespeare club mottos are. Also what leard in shakespeare is A real Actor never whines.

—Wendy, 3rd grade

You Just Never Know

February, 2010

I do a fair share of whining about having to say "so long" to kids that I get attached to in The Shakespeare Club. Let's face it, they have busy lives with new schools to attend, new friends to make and new teachers to admire. I can hardly begrudge them for disappearing simply because I stay put. It's the way of the world.

I found myself regurgitating these thoughts one weekend. We arrived home after seeing a Sunday afternoon movie and the answering machine was blinking. I strolled past, pressed the button and kept walking because the only messages we seem to receive are robocalls. And then I stopped when I heard familiar voices on the speakerphone:

Hello Ms. Ryane, good afternoon. This is Kate and Geoffrey.

We had a fantastic performance on Friday — Saturday — and we we're just here to thank you for all your help for leading us to the path of acting.

Hello Ms. Ryane, this is Kate and I just want to say thank you because our performances were outstanding and everybody was congratulating us because of your wonderful training that you have given us in fifth grade and those three years.

Hope everything is going fine with you, Ms. Ryane, and your husband or boyfriend, and we hope to call you and write to you later on in the future.

Thank you, good bye.

Oh. Sniff. Oh, oh.

This brother/sister team is now in middle school. I returned the call and they told me about a play they did at their church. They said school was good. I told them we missed them in the club. It wasn't a long conversation, just enough balm on my aching heart to make everything, in that moment, right with the world.

They're going to be fine, those two. They'll be swell out there in the universe. The Shakespeare Club is intended to expose children to empowerment. That these kids even made this call proved its worth.

My husband or boyfriend gave me a hug and then transcribed the phone call for me. I took a breath and decided to do even better in the upcoming week because you just never know when or how it'll pay off.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I want to be in Shakespeare club becuase I wanted to act and pretend to be someone, I wanted to know if Shakespeare would be fun, I want to learn about acting

I learned that there is a sickniss called Black Death that you get really fast. I learnd that William Shakespeare had a child and two twins. I learned girls can't go to shool and be a actor.

—Page, 3rd grade

Lost

February, 2010

I know it's a big hit series on ABC. Let me tell you it's also a big hit in the Shakespeare Club. Sometimes, like Lady Macbeth, we harbor secret wishes, and like Hermia in a forest, we can feel a little lost.

My system for teaching kids how to scan iambic pentameter verse is to give them each a copy of a Hermia speech from "A Midsummer Night's Dream." The character has run away into a forest with Lysander and wakes up in the dark from a terrible dream, only to discover her boyfriend has split and left her alone. I'm tempted to teach that lesson, but perhaps it's a tad early in their development.

"Here is one of the ways Shakespeare is so darn smart. He tells us how he wants us to act the roles by showing us which words are the most important in a line. We want to squeeze a little more juice out of those words."

I use the images of a cup of cocoa ("U") and a sword ("/") for them to mark the syllables in each line as they clap out the ten beats. They catch on pretty quickly, with some actually drawing steaming cups of chocolate. They are always, count on it, always hungry.

For journal writing this day I gave them a choice. Lady Macbeth has a secret wish to be queen: Write about your secret wish. Or, what might it be like to be lost in a forest? What would you eat, where would you sleep and how would you feel?

"I'm never going to make anyone do this, but think about finding your courage and, if you haven't shared your writing before, maybe today's the day."

Lizzie decided today was her day and bravely stood up in front of the group to read about her secret wish.

"My secret wish is for my dog can come back becouse I miss him. I don't just miss him I love him. He wosn't just my dog he was my best frend. Every day I always wish—"

It happened suddenly. Her tears came in a rush. She looked back at me with panic on her face.


"I can't...I can't read..." and the sobs came fast.

I stepped up and took her journal to finish reading for her. I held her wet face pressed against my waistline and smoothed her tangled, brown hair.

"Good girl. You did very, very well reading a story that is so personal and so very sad for you....It's okay, Lizzie...you're safe...it's okay."

The room was quiet. The kids leaned forward in their chairs and forced a tsunami of empathy across the room to Lizzie.

"I think we know what Lizzie is writing about. I think maybe we can think of something or someone we have lost and can't get back and how hard that can be."

I scouted the room for tissues as I spoke and Rachel handed me a bundle.

I got Lizzie settled and back in her chair. Dominick knelt in front of her.

"It's okay, Lizzie, I know how that feels..." and he went on to describe an event of losing his puppy and how he put up signs in his neighborhood.

Millie took Lizzie's hand. "I know it's so sad, Lizzie. I know how that feels."

Sometimes Shakespeare's genius lies in his being the catalyst. Poor Hermia, lost in a forest, abandoned by her boyfriend. Poor Lady Macbeth, bored out of her mind, with little else but aspirations. Poor us.

Take comfort, as Lizzie did that day, in knowing you are not alone.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: Journal Entries

If I was Hermia I would cry pools of water. Because I would be my-self. I would make a hut and make food from acorns. Then I would make a map.

—Phoebe, 4th grade

My secret wish is to be a pixe. I would do anithing to be one! ANITHING!.

—Millie, 3rd grade

The Anti-Curse

February, 2010

The buzz started with emails and then phone calls: "Have you heard? Guess who's back...come on, guess!"

Last year one of our Shakespeare Club stars was a young boy who played Malvolio in "Twelfth Night." This boy was born to act and grabbed center stage with bravado and spirit. A few weeks before our performance, his mom was struck terribly ill. This boy and his little brother were relocated to live with grandparents in a far-off part of the county as mom healed. He and I said good-bye without ever expecting to see each other again.

This boy's name is Henry.

Ah world, thank you.

Missives arrived with the news that Henry was moving back to the neighborhood and back into our school. His arrival landed on the tail of Conrad's departure. Conrad had been cast as King Duncan. As I toyed with reshuffling my cast, the miracle of Henry solved my problem.

I slipped into Henry's fourth-grade classroom and caught his eye. He leapt up, beaming like the sun. I crooked my finger, at the same time asking his teacher if I could have a moment with him. Henry ran to the door. We met up outside.

"I can't believe it," I squealed. "You're back and in the nick of time...I need a King Duncan."

"Ms. Ryane! I know...it's so, so perfect because here I am and I wanted to be in Shakespeare Club and now here I am!"

Of course, when I initially heard he was rejoining the school, I thought it far too late for Henry to be included as an actor. The play was cast and the club was full. I decided I would ask him to be our sound operator. Then Conrad got cold feet and...

"Henry, sometimes the universe just makes everything right...sometimes. How are you, anyway?"

"I'm great, Ms. Ryane! I'm so happy and also Oliver is playing Macbeth and that is so, so cool!"

This is typical of Henry. All the upheaval and scariness the child has been through has rolled off him. He's a cup-half-full kind of guy. Actually, he's a forget-the-cup-and-fill-a-barrel kind of guy.

"So, you know Oliver?"

"Yes! I met Oliver in second grade...like...hey, who are you? I like you! And Oliver and I are best friends! He's Macbeth!"

"Yes, and you will be King Duncan. That means you and Oliver will be best friends offstage — but enemies onstage, because he kills you."

"Whoa! That's so neat!"

Oliver and Henry

Almost everything that comes out of Henry's mouth is accessorized with an exclamation mark. He doesn't even know the story of "Macbeth" but he's thrilled at the casting of his friend.

"Henry, I'm so glad to see you. I'm so grateful this has worked out. Like I say, sometimes the world is amazing."

"Yes, Ms. Ryane, the world is amazing!"

"See you on Wednesday, Henry."

"Okay!"


CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I want to be in Shakespeare clube because, I wanted to see what it is like. I want to be on the good lisse. I hated to learn about Shakespeares' life. I like Shakespeare clube.

What I learnd about is that in the old days you had to throw poo out your windows. I learnd that willaen shakespeares dad made gloves. When someone got sick, the police mens had to pin the doors donw.

—Natalie, 4th grade

Cold-Foot Conrad

February, 2010

Conrad wanted to be in Shakespeare Club so much he weathered the demands of an audition and begged his mom to let him attend meetings. We arranged rides home on Wednesdays with Wendy's mom.

And then he started to disappear. He missed one week because of illness. Another meeting, as we were about to begin, he came to me with watery eyes.

"Ms. Ryane, my head, it really hurts."

"Conrad, that's awful. What kind of hurt?"

"Really bad hurt and everywhere in my body too."

He did look pale and I had no doubt he was in pain. I had Rachel take him to the office, where he promptly conked out on a cot for two hours. When Rachel brought him back and he turned down a snack I knew he had something flu-like in his system.

Two days later I saw Conrad in his computer class.

"Hey there, Conrad, how are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm better, Ms. Ryane."

"That's great. I'll see you on Wednesday for Shakespeare Club."

I trilled my voice on "Shakespeare Club" because I know how much Conrad loves the club. I sang it out like a little "me and Conrad" secret. Yippee, Conrad, it's going to be greeeaaat!

I missed the signals. Every teacher and parent knows what it is like to miss signals. And when we do, we feel like dolts.

The following Wednesday, when I dropped by Mr. C's class to remind Conrad, Wendy and Krystal that today was Shakespeare Club, I got a surprise.

"Ms. Ryane." I looked down at Conrad whispering up at me.

"Yes, Conrad?"

"I have to take the bus home today."

"What? No, no, Conrad, you go home with Wendy and her mom, remember?"

"Conrad, you go home with us!" Wendy piped up.

"That's right, Conrad...I'll see you at two-thirty....Yay, Shakespeare Club!"

Dolt.

He didn't show up. When I called his home that night, his mom sounded bewildered. "I don't know what's happened. He says he can't do it. He feels terrible, like he's let you down."

I took Conrad out of class the next day for a little private chat.

"Ms. Ryane, I'm so, so sorry...." he had a wail in his voice and his face crumpled up.

"Hey, Conrad, it's okay. Really. Let's sit down under the tree and you tell me what you think happened."

"Well, Ms. Ryane, I think I just got the stage fright!"

"I see. Well, that can happen. It happens to big movie stars so it could happen to anyone...the stage fright. But you figured this out at the perfect time because I was just about to announce casting and now it gives me time to find someone to replace you. It's really not a problem, Conrad, and you know what? I'm proud of you for making a choice that's best for you."

"Yeah." He looked down into the palms of his small hands and shook his head. "One time I had to do this thing at church...you know that thing we say...." Conrad struggled to remember what that thing was and smacked his forehead to dislodge the thought. "You know...oh...what's that thing? Yeah! Pledge of Allegiance? I had to say it and I forgot it!"

"Oh, I see. You had to say it all by yourself?"

"Yeah."

Well, Conrad, everything's fine here. You don't have to do Shakespeare Club and if, in the future, you want to give it another shot, we'll revisit the idea when you're in fifth grade."

"Yeah."

"Hug?"

We shared that. I looked down into his brown eyes.

"Conrad, I'm not mad. You didn't let me down, I promise."

I'll miss him, though. I'd cast him as King Duncan. Here it was week five and I was already saying more good-byes than hellos.

But...right around the corner...the universe planned a bigger "Hey, Ms. Ryane!" than I ever could have imagined.

Stay tuned. King Duncan is about to ride in on a white stallion.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I want to be in shakespeare club because it's cool and exciting and have fun and I want to act in a play and I want to know more about Williamm Shakespeare.

1. In that time he could get sick really easy.

2. His dad was a glover.

3. His mom did a lot.

—Chloe, 4th grade

Curses!

February, 2010

As a young thespian I was taken under the seasoned wings of mature professionals and informed of the dangerous "curse" associated with "Macbeth."

Actors tend to be a superstitious lot. Because I'd never been directly tied to the play, as an actor or director, the idea of a curse amused me. I saw actors kicked out of dressing rooms for even whispering the name: Macbeth. In exile they were required to spit, spin three times, cuss and plead for re-entrance. This struck me as silly.

Until now.

Week four of Shakespeare Club and we still have not had a full quorum of actors because the flu has hit, taking down one kid after another, or guardians have pulled kids out for family emergencies of one kind or another. I was frustrated but of course this happens every year and was unworthy of curse consideration.

Then...

I arrived at Lucinda's classroom to have her come help set up Room 42, as we always do, and was informed that she was home with a broken leg. Scurrying around the playground a few days earlier, she'd taken a spill and was now in a cast up to her thigh.

When she returned to school a week later I said, "Okay, Lucinda, we'll get you an assistant stage manager, no problem, and then when your cast comes off in a couple of months you'll be ready to take on full duties."


Lucinda gave me a wide-eyed look from behind her spectacles and swallowed. "But Ms. Ryane, something worse...a nightmare...way worse than my leg...oh, Ms. Ryane...something terrible!"

"What, Lucinda? What could be worse than your leg?"

"I think we're moving!"

"What? Moving? Where? When? Why?"

"Someplace far...Arleta. My mom and dad have the money and now they got something called escrow!"

I called her mom and it was true: Something called escrow was screwing around with me. Quick fix: Celia would now step into the role of stage manager, but I had to have a final and private conversation with Lucinda.

"Lucinda, I want you to know that in my whole life I will never, ever forget you and will miss you so much. Here is your journal to keep, and see, here in the back, I've written my address. I promise if you write to me and tell me about your life I will always write back."

Her eyes filled, she bit her lip and tried hard to hold it together. "Ms. Ryane, I will never forget you too, but I don't want to go...to move....I don't want to leave Shakespeare Club...I just really don't want to go."

"I know. I believe you. It's a hard thing, Lucinda. But here's what is also true: You will do so very well wherever you go because you're just that kind of person."

I signed her cast as she asked me to do and we had a good hug.

Celia and I arranged Room 42 and I told her how happy I was that she would be with us every week. I placed a tissue box front and center for all the sniffly noses attached to ill kids...and for one Ms. Ryane, who so didn't want to be cursed that she cussed under her breath and took three spins to clear her reeling head.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I want to be in Shakespeare Club because I'd like to be in a new activity at school, Also because the Shakespeare Club is something very special to me. I learned that the life of William Shakespeare was very different from the life we have now. I learned that William Shakespeare had 3 kids. Also one other thing I learned was that there was a sickness called the Black Death. He was 52 when he died.

If I was an Elizabethian. I would dress as warm as I could. I ate very little foods, like 2 apples and 2 oranges for breakfast. I felt very mad when my 3 brothers went to school and I stayed home with 2 5 year old twins, sowing. Now everything is different. But I still loved my poor life.

—Lucinda, 4th grade

Anywhere...It Can Happen Anywhere

I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,
And falls on th'other...

Macbeth Act I, Scene VII

January, 2010

By December I'd typed out an adaptation of "Macbeth" and felt relief at ending my procrastination. The satisfaction was great because it appeared that by using a combination of Shakespeare's text and Lois Burdett's version of the play from her series, Shakespeare Can Be Fun!, I'd come up with a doable twenty-one page play.

My equilibrium unraveled when we started to read the play aloud and I realized the magnitude of the undertaking. This was as ambitious as Lord and Lady Macbeth's own dream of royalty. I gulped as the kids struggled to read the unfamiliar.

"Okay, let's stop for just a second. Here's a funny word: Thane. We have just learned that Macbeth is Thane of Glamis and that King Duncan is going to make him Thane of Cawdor. I wonder what a Thane is?"

"King?" offered Oliver.

"Mmmm. Good guess but not exactly....Let's say you were the king, Oliver, and you wanted to make Chloe a Thane. If we were in England a Thane would be a Duke. In Scotland they used the word Thane. So, let's say Chloe is Thane of our school and you decided to give her all the land in Venice. That would make Chloe Thane of Venice."

It would take many, many meetings to remember what a Thane is. Have I asked too much this time around? Are my expectations too high? I have to remind myself that these are little kids. Can we do a play like this? What makes theatre anyway?

Way back in my New York City days I experienced theatre as a gift to an audience. Previous to my moving to the city and for years after leaving, I had great theatre experiences in well-equipped venues where the actors were beautifully costumed but there was this one freebie that sticks out as a special event.

I was friends with a young, Yale-educated director who wanted to stage a one-act, two-hander play, "The Great Nebula in Orion", by Lanford Wilson. The director, another actress and I rehearsed for weeks. The play took place in a New York City apartment and involved the reacquaintance of two former college roommates. We staged our production in the director's Upper West Side apartment. We invited guests and offered pre-show cocktails. The audience sat at one end of the living room and we entered through a real door, into a real home, in need of a real bathroom and using a real kitchen to make our drinks. At the end of the performance we served our audience a dinner of chili, salad, wine and dessert. It was free. It was a gift. It was wondrous.

Down the line in May, these kids will also give a gift and, I hope, have as gratifying an experience as I did in New York City, if I have not raised the bar too high. Because it can happen anytime, anywhere, with the right intentions and a load of effort. A ****load of effort. Oh my.


CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

If I was an Elizabethan girl my life would of been very educated. I would of been a princess. I would study as hard as I can. I'd wear beautiful silk dresses. In the palace I'd eat a salad with many mini "love apples." I'd enjoy being a princess getting an educated very wealthy and healthy. Having many beautiful silk dresses. Of courses I'd go to William Shakespeare's plays hundreds and hundreds of times. My favorite play would be "Romeo and Juliet." Then I'd be Queen . I'd also have my own lovely horse.

—Bettina, 5th grade

"The princess has a day out" painting by John Silver