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

Crutches

March, 2010

When actors fumble around in rehearsal looking for a porthole into a character, they often glom on to props to secure what can seem like a perilous journey toward opening night.

I've seen actors nearly bury themselves in a teacup or tap around a set with a cane or hypnotically swirl fake Scotch around and around in a cocktail glass in search of something solid on a cardboard set.

One of my pet peeves with movie actors is incessant gum chewing. There's a misguided notion that chewing gum helps us feel "real." NO! It's only an annoying and distracting prop that makes you think you're real but you're just snapping gum and messing up your articulation at the same time.

And while I'm at it, actors should never chew gum because it tightens the jaw and clouds up clear speech. And while I'm at it some more, gum chewing should only be used as a prop if the character is trying to quit smoking, or attain fresh breath, or needs to retrieve a lost item from a street drain. Note: I said the character, not the actor. Actors do not need gum to be real.

In the Shakespeare Club, little actors fall prey to beguiling props as easily as their adult counterparts. Perhaps more so because the props are tantalizing toys, and while waiting around for your "bit" it's nice to have a toy. Furthering the problem is the fact that our swords, for example, are toys and break like toys. I have to keep a repair kit handy with tape, glue and a stapler.

"Oh, Ms. Ryane, look what happened to my stick!"

"And also my script is broken!"

"And the crown...what happened here, Ms. Ryane?"

God help me, the crutches are all in tatters, the lines are a mish-mash, the cues are late, and then:

"When's snack, Ms. Ryane?!"

I don’t know, I don't know, I don't know how to fix anything or do this or be ready on time.

Ms. Ryane needs a nap now. Zzzzzz.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

If I was an Elizabethan boy will be wiped right now. Because in school teachers would wip boys if they talked out of teren. If I was William Shakespeare I would write a play called "Over throw The Teacher."

—Dominick, 4th grade

Hard News: In Movement

I'm not going to pretend that the Shakespeare Club has big answers for the bigger problem of boys falling behind in school, but I will say a sword in hand can help. Studies say that girls do well in structure and like to organize. Boys, on the other hand, have trouble sitting still and tend to absorb more when they are on the go.

I ran into Dominick's father recently and told him how well his son was doing in the role of Macduff. I related how disciplined Dominick had become in rehearsal and that his performance looked very promising.

"It's clear how much you've been working with Dominick at home and I really appreciate that," I said.

"I'm not working with him. I've asked to help him and would like to but he doesn't want my help."

"Then he's doing this all by himself?" I was shocked.

"Looks like," the dad offered.

"His journal writing is gaining traction as well," I went on. "And he's always eager to share his writing with the group."

"Last year we stood over him and couldn't get him to write a complete sentence," the dad added.

Maybe there's something to having boys learn on their feet. Maybe they need an experiential approach to academics. Boys are doers, after all.

With swords in hand, they get the story.


I found this interesting. From "The Trouble With Boys" by Peg Tyre in Newsweek:

By almost every benchmark, boys across the nation and in every demographic group are falling behind. In elementary school, boys are two times more likely than girls to be diagnosed with learning disabilities and twice as likely to be placed in special-education classes. High-school boys are losing ground to girls on standardized writing tests. The number of boys who said they didn't like school rose 71 percent between 1980 and 2001, according to a University of Michigan study. Nowhere is the shift more evident than on college campuses. Thirty years ago men represented 58 percent of the undergraduate student body. Now they're a minority at 44 percent. This widening achievement gap, says Margaret Spellings, U.S. secretary of Education, "has profound implications for the economy, society, families and democracy." [...]

The problem won't be solved overnight. In the last two decades, the education system has become obsessed with a quantifiable and narrowly defined kind of academic success, these experts say, and that myopic view is harming boys. Boys are biologically, developmentally and psychologically different from girls--and teachers need to learn how to bring out the best in every one. "Very well-meaning people," says Dr. Bruce Perry, a Houston neurologist who advocates for troubled kids, "have created a biologically disrespectful model of education."

And this, from "UF study explores why boys are falling behind girls in school" by Joy Rodgers of the University of Florida News:

"Curricular materials, particularly reading, may need to be more inclusive with regard to male interests. The use of physical space and need for movement should be taken into consideration," Clark says. "We also need to recognize that developmental stages differ between males and females, with females maturing earlier, cognitively as well as physically."

The Good Witch: Eleanor

March, 2010

There are four women's roles in "Macbeth." Her ladyship and three witches. I have fourteen actresses in the club this year. What to do? Of course, girls will play boys' roles but when they're not, I've decided some will unite into what I'm calling the Witches' Chorus.


I bought three-foot pieces of doweling at the hardware store. The props crew is hard at work decorating these sticks, which the witches will use to bang out their predictions to Lord Macbeth and Banquo. The props crew is also making each witch a necklace of fabric remnants, tiny plastic cups and pieces of string. Along with these strands, the witches will wear "bling" in the form of Mardi Gras beads. They should make an interesting coven if they can learn their lines and work together as an actual chorus.

Rachel corralled our ten witches into another classroom to practice Double, double, toil and trouble while I rehearsed with a restless group of Scottish lords. When the girls returned, I was eager to see what they'd accomplished.

"Okay, ladies, let's hear it."

When should we all meet again?
In thunder, lightning or in rain?
When the hurly-burly's done,
When the battle's lost and won.

They kept half an eye on their leader, Rachel, and another close on their cohort, Eleanor. A fourth-grader of unusual smarts and confidence, Eleanor is the younger sister of Alice, who played Olivia in our "Twelfth Night." Alice is now in middle school and because last year was her final chance to participate in Shakespeare Club, I allowed her the opportunity of not having her younger sister in the club as well. It's a tricky business, the sibling factor. I avoid it if I can simply because caretaking is often such a daily chore for an older child that I like to give them a break.

Eleanor patiently waited her turn and now she was leading the Witches' Chorus in perfect iambic rhythm. Eleanor stood tall, pounded her stick into the floor and by the second rehearsal knew all of her lines.

When I goofed up on a character's text, it was Eleanor's arm that shot up. "Ms. Ryane, if you turn the page, Lady Macbeth has more."

"Righty-right, Eleanor, good eye. Thank you so much, I forgot that part."

Eleanor is the personification of accountable. Rachel counts on her, I count on her, her fellow actors count on her and her teacher counts on her.

I worry sometimes that we burden her too much but I can also see that Eleanor takes pride in stepping up. She is quick with answers and ideas. She helps the other witches and asks for more duties from me.

"Ms. Ryane, can I help hand out snacks?"

"Ms. Ryane, do you need help cleaning up?"

Eleanor is a lesson in how to make the most of a moment and she's showing us all how to string those moments together into a life necklace of sparkling jewels. I can picture Eleanor growing into a graceful and accomplished young woman.

In the meantime, we're all leaning on her to prop this play up.

"Oh Eleanor, where were we? I've lost my marbles, to quote Lady Macbeth."


CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

If I was a Elizabethan women I would get up take a bubble bath eat pancakes and drink sider. I would get dressed in a pritie short sleeved dress with a jacket. I would ride my peach horse star down to the Roses or Globe to see a play.

—Eleanor, 4th grade

The Glory Days: Henry

March, 2010

"Psst, Ms. Ryane?"

He's scurried up to me from his seat in Room 42. We're in the middle of a scene but Henry has a question. I raise my eyebrows as if to ask, "Yes, what is it, Henry?"

"Hey, Ms. Ryane, is that the ring we used last year?"

I shake my head and mouth, "No, different ring." He tiptoes back to his seat.

"Psst, Ms. Ryane, you should tell them about when you brought those beads last year!"

"Psst, Ms. Ryane, are we going to play the Insult Game this year like last year? I LOVE that game!"

I guess we all have our glory days. The perfect touchdown on the college team. The first kiss from that first boy. The career promotion that spelled, Easy-peasy days ahead!

Henry's glory days came when, at eight years old, he played Malvolio in "Twelfth Night." When he made people laugh. When he took a solo curtain call. Henry's glory days were last year and the little guy wants them back.

He's with us for "Macbeth" after returning to our school halfway through the year. He really should have a bigger role than the doomed King Duncan but it's all we had left after his surprise re-arrival. Henry has taken on the duty of king in a typical Henry way. He shows no impatience with the size of the part.


"Ms. Ryane, the servant better kneel, or you know what!" He runs his finger across his throat.

For Henry the play is about King Duncan, and that's exactly how every actor should approach his or her part.

"Psst, Ms Ryane...I could wear this!" He tugs on his red T-shirt, " 'Cause it's red and looks kinda like blood for when I'm murdered!"

"Henry," I whisper, because we are, again, in the middle of a scene, "we’ll have Shakespeare Club T-shirts."

"Like last year!" he whisper-yelps.

"Different color, but yes," I whisper back.

He dances back to his seat.

I want to give Henry many, many glory days. His spirit is such that despite there being scary things or sad things in the world, he doesn't appear to absorb them. Henry skips and high-fives the universe into his vision of rightness. He is a lesson in weathering the storm. For Henry, Shakespeare's tragedies and comedies are equal in their value to his life. Give him an hour center-stage and he'll keep you entertained. Give him five minutes and you'll clamor for more.

Psst, Henry. You are my glory days.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

There are alot of responbiletys for haveing a best frend. You try to stop them when theyr are doing something bad. You also have to be nice to them. If you want friends gusts folow this.

—Henry, 4th grade

beads photo by Flickr user divemasterking2000

Hard News: What's Best?

My hat's off to Florida governor Charlie Crist for bucking the trend and not passing this education bill.


Here's what I know after five years of attempting classroom rule: You can't learn to manage the room in one, two or three years. It takes time and accrued experience.

Here's what else I know: Incessant mandated testing does not equate with real learning and is both sapping creativity in teachers and killing the desire for knowledge by students.

Testing seems to me to be someone's idea of a quick fix. If we take a quick glance at scores we can deduce levels of academic absorption. If we jam facts into growing brains it means they know something.

Children are being left behind. There is no quick fix. Lower classroom size and let teachers teach. Get parents robustly involved in helping on campuses and at home.

Crist Bucks Florida GOP and Vetoes Education Bill (The Wall Street Journal)

All Girls: Mary and Page

March, 2010

"Well, Ms. Ryane, maybe what happened was that the people who went to William Shakespeare's plays...you know, like those people...maybe they didn't want to see so many boys dressed up like girls and so maybe that's why he didn't make so many girls' parts," Page offers.

"Hmmm, you may be right," I answer.

"And that's why Page and me have to be Lords, like Ross and Lennox, because Shakespeare Club has so many girls, right?" Mary adds.

"That's correct, and that's irony."

These two third-graders are sitting with me on a bench in the schoolyard. Quite often as I cross the campus on my way to prepare Room 42, I hear, "Ms. Ryane, Ms. Ryane!" and quite often it's an opportunity for a gab session about Shakespeare and the play and "what will we eat on the day of the play?"


"Ms. Ryane?"

"Yes, Page?"

"Will we have to wear wigs?" Page pats her long golden locks as she asks this.

"Mmmm, no wigs. Actually, back then men had long hair just like yours. You could pull it into a ponytail if you like, but you won't need a wig."

In her early journal entries, Page wrote of wanting to get over her shyness. A lot of girls write about the plague of shyness but Page has blossomed like an English rose under the watchful eye of the Bard. She plays a witch in the Witches' Chorus, and Lord Lennox. She was one of the first to be off-book and she uses a great big voice.

Mary does not suffer from shyness. Mary has confidence and bravado by the bucketful. She reminds me of Luis in our "Twelfth Night" last year. After a particularly tricky rehearsal where the cast has to repeatedly hide and reveal Banquo’s ghost, I had a Luis-type chit-chat with Mary.

"Mary, are you aware of your special gift?"

"No. What does that mean, anyway?"

"You have a unique talent. You have a natural ability to bring people joy by...what, do you think?"

She kept her eyes glued to mine and shrugged.

"You know exactly what I'm talkin' about, sister. You have a funny bone. You can make people laugh."

Mary shot me a wide grin.

"Here’s the problem: 'Macbeth' is a...what?"

"Tragedy?"

"Right. It's low on jokes. So, we have to make a deal. If you can hold it together this year in the drama and audition well next year for the comedy...you’ll get a payoff. Think you can do it?"

"Sure!" she said and then did a little backwards moonwalk like she does every time in rehearsal when I say, "Okay, let’s go back to the top and try again."

"Well, I gotta go. See ya later, alligators!" I sang.

Mary and Page raced off to climb the outdoor apparatus. Upside down, hanging by their knees, they swung like the stars they are.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

My best friend is Page. She helps me and I help her. When we get mad or hurt each other. My responsibility to be a best friend is when my best friend gets sad or hurt I help them.

—Mary, 3rd grade

Going Private: Garth

March, 2010

In the early years of The Shakespeare Club, when I wanted to work privately with a young actor, I'd arrange an afterschool meeting in the library and sit and wait and wait and pace. Most times no one would show up.

Over the years, I've gained some credibility with the teachers and am now able to call a student out of class to work with me during the school day. I cherish these private sessions. They are opportunities to learn about the child, to plant seeds of courage. Together we study a character's motives, learn lines or sort out relationship conflicts in the club.


And because I will always wrestle with classroom chaos, it is a relief to work only one-on-one. Also, there are a few things a kid likes more than focused "just me" attention.

When I show up randomly at a classroom door, faces light up and they point to themselves, whispering, "Me? Me?"

On the day Garth and I jaunted over to the library, the boy fairly hopped and skipped beside me.

"I've been waiting and waiting for this!" he gushed.

"Really? You do seem pretty excited."

"I've been wondering and wondering what this would be like...you know...just you and me! I've been so wondering."

Garth's breaths came in short bursts and I was wondering myself how to fulfill his hopes. Our time in the library would hardly be a trip to Disneyland.

"Well, now you'll find out, Garth. Here we go," and I ushered him into the room.

Garth is playing Banquo. The character ends up dead at the hands of his best friend, Macbeth. I've heard that Garth gathers Mark (Malcolm) and Oliver (Macbeth) together on lunch breaks to pore over their scripts. In part because of Garth's urging, these boys are all off-book.

We sat across from each other, scripts open, and I asked if he had any thoughts or questions about the play.

"Well that Lady Macbeth, she's so evil. It's all her fault," Garth declared, shaking his head.

"Mmmm. Well, yes, she has a lot to do with it, but let's face it, Garth, Macbeth goes along with the plan. He does make that choice, right?"

"No, but she convinces him, she makes him kill King Duncan."

"Hmmm. So, Garth, I noticed down on Venice Boulevard there's a really cool game store. Like they have Wii games and all kinds of other stuff. They have so much in there. I was thinking, how about you and I go there and I'll talk to the guy and you just take a couple of those games? You could just stick them in your jacket and they wouldn't even miss them 'cause they have so many. Wanna?"

He pulled far away from me in his chair.

"Nooo, Ms. Ryane, no way...nooooo!"

"See, Macbeth could have said that but he didn't."

Garth pondered this.

"Yeah, but still she's nasty bad. I think she made him."

Mother issues?

"Well, Garth, I don't think anyone could make you do something you didn't think was right, and that's a good thing. Let's go over your scenes."

"Sure, Ms. Ryane. I like this."

Me too.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

Elizabethan Man I will live in a small house. And I will ware breaches. And a shirt. I will eat lots of sweat bread and fish. I will fill happy goying to school but it wouldn't be cool getting a wip at the bottom at school.

—Garth, 4th grade

Recess: At the Movies

I have a firefighter brother and one thing he hates are firefighter movies. The dramas of barreling fireballs and station house antics are too phony for him to bear.


Many doctors cringe at the fakery in celluloid hospital scenes. We still see scrub nurses patting down the sweaty brows of surgeons when in fact operating rooms are kept at chilly temperatures.

I wonder if teachers shake their heads, bewildered, at Hollywood's version of real classrooms.


I recently caught an old chestnut on television, UP THE DOWN STAIRCASE, with a thirty-year-old Sandy Dennis as a first-year high-school teacher at a troubled New York City institution. I mention her age because, in her dewy freshness, Ms. Dennis is utterly appealing and devoid of the neurotic tics she picked up over the course of her career. I found her entirely believable in her intelligent and well thought-out performance.

I loved that during the time frame of the story, one school year, she wears three different outfits over and over. I so appreciated the diversity of the school's population. I cheered the filmmakers' restraint when a "bad boy" isn't saved and redeemed by our heroine. This is a good movie.


On the other hand, DANGEROUS MINDS which aired a few nights later, is devastating in its posturing and cliché-laden imagery. That tough nut, Michelle Pfeiffer, licking her lips for what seems like half an hour as she challenges the tough ghetto kid to do better. It's so stupid it's agonizing to watch. Seriously? Does anyone think that's a wise choice in disciplining a teenager, especially when he looks twenty-six and you look like Michelle Pfeiffer?


I will always have a soft-spot for TO SIR WITH LOVE, also released in 1967, and starring Sidney Poitier. For one thing, until "Stand and Deliver" showed up, it was the only film I'm aware of where the star teacher isn't white. Also, I saw this movie when I was a kid and wept buckets at the ending.

1967 was a good year for education on film. Actually, 1967 was a good year for almost anything on film:

COOL HAND LUKE
BONNIE AND CLYDE
FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD
IN COLD BLOOD
GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER (come on, guess!)
ENTER LAUGHING
TWO FOR THE ROAD
THE DIRTY DOZEN
THE GRADUATE

I missed this one but I bet it's great: FOLLOW THAT CAMEL. with Phil Silvers.

The Waiting Game

March, 2010

Be still my heart, my tapping fingers and my gnashing teeth. I'm not fond of lineups at the supermarket, at the doctor's office or on the freeway. If I can't grab a "People" magazine, I get apoplectic with impatient energy as the glacial row sits and sits and sits.

So, how can I expect a child anxious to hit center stage to stay calm, not chatter and not writhe as he waits for his turn to bat? And yet I do expect that very thing. I ask it of these kids every year, in every rehearsal and I walk away startled when so many comply by sometimes literally sitting on their hands until their cue comes up.

For Dominick, who wrestles with assorted ADD and ADHD issues, the waiting thing is a gigantic challenge but, my God, the boy tries. I catch him out of the corner of my eye whispering his lines and throwing his imaginary sword heavenward as he goes through Macduff's speeches. His dad came up with a possible solution. He recorded parts of "Macbeth" on an iPod for Dominick to listen to while he waits. It's a worthy fix and seems to be helping.

"Page ten, Ms. Ryane!" Dominick points to his script. "I don't even show up until page ten!"

"I know, Dominick, nightmare. But look at poor Henry. His King Duncan exits on page five and that's it. He's dead until page twenty-one, when he takes a curtain call."

Dominick gives an empathetic head shake toward Henry. "Man, I don't know how you do it."

Actors wait. It is the decree of their career. They wait for auditions, for agents to call, for directors to notice, for parents to accept, for checks in the mail...and while they do those things, they stand before us in restaurants and wait on us some more.

Actor/waiter. A synonymous calling.

Man, I don't know how they do it.

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

If I was a girl in the Elizabethan period I would wear a big gown with lace and silk gloves up to my elbows, for fun I would go to plays. I would be a queen when I got older because I was a princess. My mother was queen Elizabeth and my father was in Shakespeares plays. I had a chesnut colored horse named Lili. I was born in 1579 and died in 1632.

—Mary, 3rd grade

Where Are the Marbles?

March, 2010

I was rehearsing alone with Oliver and Phoebe, a.k.a. Lord and Lady Macbeth. All the kids, as they learn their lines, have a tendency to rattle them off super quickly, as if the words will evaporate if they don't get them off the tongue as fast as possible. They also have pride and want to show me that they did the work and glued those suckers into place.

"This is excellent, Oliver, that you know your speeches by heart. I can certainly see that you've done the work, but here's the next big step...you have to mean them. You have to really talk to Phoebe like a real person. That's the trick of acting, what actors call 'owning' the words, as if you just thought them up right now. Not everyone can do this, but I'm sure you can."

"Oh, I know, Ms. Ryane," Oliver answered. "It's like when I'm at home I work on these and I can't remember them but then when I'm here in Room 42, it's like it all makes sense and then I know what the lines are."

"Well, I'm just the opposite," Phoebe argued, hands on hips. "I know them all at home but I get here and I can't remember a thing!"

This is true of Phoebe. In our last company rehearsal she hung on tightly to her script and I said, "Phoebe, you're having the same problem that all actors face at this point in rehearsal. It's when you know what you're doing and saying, but it's a scary thing to put the baby down. It's time to put the baby down, Phoebe. I'll be here to help and Darby will give you a line when you call out 'Line!' Okay?"

I pried the script from her clutching hands.

"Okay, you two, let's take it from, 'And when goes hence?' "

Phoebe was halfway through "Oh never shall sun that morrow see!" when she stopped, sighed and announced: "I've lost my marbles!"

This is what I call a "turnaround moment." Every teacher and every parent has these. It's when a child, in all seriousness, says something like "I've lost my marbles" as if she were a flummoxed fifty-year-old matron at a church social.

I turned away to bite my tongue and lips. I didn't want Phoebe to think I was laughing at her, but the girl cracks me up.

"Okay," I whispered.

"We have to go back to the beginning, Ms. Ryane."

"Yes, Phoebe, of course, whatever you'd like. But let me say that you have not lost your marbles. Lady Macbeth has lost her marbles, but you're going to be just fine."

"Hmmph."

She shot me a skeptical look and then launched into the scene, word-perfect, looking straight into Oliver's eyes and those words rolled out, well, like glassy...

CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry

I am Lady Macbeth. I live in a white manshon that has 132 rooms. I have four rooms. One is my bedroom. I have wallpapper that have flowers and hearts. My bathroom has a bathtub that is purple and it is seven feet long. Dressing room and meeting room.

My friends are the witches and Lady Macduff. I believe that to be Queen is the best thing I want. I want to be Queen so badly I tell my husband to kill the King. I am afraid of Malcom. I am loyal to Celia, Natalie, and Mariah. I eat sushi, fish, chicken and rice, and mashed potatoes.

—Phoebe, 4th grade