Wednesday, November 16, 2022

16 November 2022

 

       In addition to everything else I'm about to lay out, the building is doing nothing to mark the one year anniversary of the shooting. Just ignore it. It'll go away. Counselors just came into 6th period yesterday to ask for ideas to mark the day. Yesterday. Nobody planned anything and now counseling is like...um....we should do something? They said there is a chance admin won't approve any of their ideas, anyway, which why would they, they've no time to plan. UGH.

                                            Curricular vs. Extracurricular

        In twenty years, nobody has ever questioned that choir classes are where you rehearse your choir concerts, which are  then performed at night and are part of the class. Or band. Or theatre. They are curricular, all one entity as class. But suddenly, because a kid is literally failing out of school and won't graduate, it's being separated. He can be in class but he cannot perform. The AP's logic: Because in football, they take strength and conditioning as a class, which is curricular, then the team is separate after school: extra curricular. We're just like football. Performing arts are just like football. These are words that were said to me. Wish I was kidding.

     Now, I'm not going to bore you with board policy, district policy or building policy. They all state that performing arts classes are curricular, and the expectation for students is that they attend after school rehearsals and performances, which are part of the class, not extra curricular.

      Or it was...until you have a kid in the musical class who is so epically failing out of high school -you may question how nobody noticed until now, so let's pause. It's November of his senior year. He only comes to his choir classes. That's it. He's enrolled in APA--the class that does the musical and is curricular.  He was not enrolled in quarter one because he had to take civics for credit recovery. We knew he had to take credit recovery and would join us quarter two. We knew he wasn't going to graduate, because we talked to counseling before casting the show. They said he has "no chance", and he only comes to school for performing arts. Since he's passing our classes, we shrugged and figured we could cast him as Roger in RENT. He comes to our classes, it's not our fault he isn't graduating. And it seemed to us that everybody knew that, and nobody cared he had a lead in the show. In fact, at least it gets him in the building and he gets his senior musical. Right? That's what we thought. Never assume that anybody knows anything.

        The AP over seniors pulled him and "discovered" he is not on track to graduate. This discovery was made the week of a choir concert. I'm guessing she didn't know that he was so far off track. He's not "off track", it's like he looked at the track and bundled his knapsack on his shoulder and marched in the opposite direction. And now that she knows, it's suddenly a problem for him to be in the show, because it's "extra curricular". And students who are flunking out cannot play football or do any other extracurricular activities. So he can't do the musical, which is a class, because the performance is extra curricular.

      Um, no, it is not. Please read the words from district, building and board that I unearthed with the help of counseling and sent to you in rebuttal. We learn, see, the AP really really wants him out as we are in turnaround and it effects us less if he goes the GED route. So instead of putting him in recovery classes and leaving him in his PA classes and making him double triple quadruple  up on recovery, the hammer came down and he can be in the class, just not perform. Which is incorrect, as it's a class,  and I'm beginning to feel a little bit insane. So the AP went to legal to define the words from district, building and board, and legal backed her up by saying "In this case the policy means if the student doesn't attend a concert or play, it can impact their grade, but if admin says he can't, then he can't and it won't effect his grade."

    Huh?

    Either it's a policy or it is not. Either we are curricular or we are not. 

    So right now we're trying to understand why our admin is trying to kill the performing arts. We are the reason these kids come to school. If you start booting them out of our concerts because they have F's in other classes, there's no reason for them to be in our class, and we're dead.

     This has all been an exercise anyway, as the student had a contract with us stating he would attend his classes and not receive any F's to remain in the show. Which he did not do and did do, so he can't do the show anyway, still I take umbrage with your posit that performing arts classes are curricular but our performances are extra curricular. By this example, any kid failing more than two classes who is enrolled in PA cannot perform at the concert they've just spent the semester preparing for. Which will cause them to fail the class. Not to mention it's an exercise in insanity to have a student learn a vocal part, or lines, or other instrumental music, as part of an ensemble in class, only to know they cannot perform with the group at an extracurricular concert.

        Do I need to reiterate their equally insane football scenario? Strength and conditioning is a class taken by football players, a class that football players take, but they cannot play football, which is extra curricular, if they are failing classes. So if a player has two F's they can still take strength and conditioning, which is curricular. But they can't play football, which is extracurricular They are not practicing football during strength and conditioning, so this makes sense. We are practicing performance during class. Do you see how this makes a person nutso?

    So that was my entire day yesterday.

                                    Behaviors Through The Roof

     The shooting was a year ago this week. We had a secure perimeter Monday, and I'm shocked we haven't had more, at least one a day. The fights are out of control. The AP (the one who has decided I'm extracurricular) got knocked down during a fight last week, it's all over social media. I just had a girl tell me to fuck off when I redirected her away from students who were trying to work.

     The musical is disintegrating in front of me. I had to move the kid playing Mark to Roger, and an ensemble to Mark. Then yesterday we discovered Tom Collins--also a senior--is flunking four classes. By the newly reinterpreted policy, he can't do the show now, and we're out of boys. Literally. So if he can't pull it out in a week, we're looking at Tom being played by a female. Great. At what point do I have any dignity left? Do we keep making these changes to drag this show over the finish line? Why? For the three kids who actually care and will be devastated not to have a musical?

    This is happening because these kids' needs are not being met on a basic level. You cannot function if you do not feel safe. See the graph.

    Based on the Berkley graph of needs, we have kids whose base is missing sleep and homeostasis, based on the fact that they survived a shooting, which has caused them anxiety and stress and made it impossible to maintain a healthy psychological base line. Then the next brick is safety. Okay...go: families are transient and homeless, unhealthy, and when the students attend school they see fights, hear about fights, fear secure perimeters and lockdowns. I am not a counselor, nor do I play one on TV, but I feel like anyone reading this has the sense to understand what is happening.

    Now, consider the teachers are in the same predicament. We feel unsafe, lose sleep, fear being bullied by admin, caught in literal crossfire and are unsafe. Did I mention school shootings effect teachers as well? 

      And then you're going to tell these damaged kids, whose only lifeline is a performing arts class, that they cannot perform with the class because they are failing at school, and they are failing at school because their needs are not being met.

    And the band played on...

Tuesday, November 15, 2022

YSOV ADDENDUM!!!

 

   I neglected to mention a few elements of the play Your Silence, Our Voices.

  One was that a student wrote a song about the shooting called "Little White Truck". She sang it at the end of the shows.

   The School Board invites us to send our kids to them to perform at their meetings. Most schools send a singer everyone will coo over "such talent in our district" etc. making very feel good choices.

    So...you see where this is going and are aware of my mohawk...who did I send? And what did she sing?

    We both figured we'd be in trouble, as the superintendent has been clear that we are not to talk about the shooting. This week is the year anniversary, the show just closed, we had to do it. Had. To.

    She just emailed me.

    The board thanked her. Shook her hand. Told their own stories. While the superintendent sat silently, staring at her.

     Well, we're not in trouble yet. But we've managed to now impact our audiences in our own theatre, and the School Board.

        

    

Thursday, November 10, 2022

The State Of Education

 

             Not Great.


            Not Even Good.


            Scene.

Tuesday, November 8, 2022

Flames...Flames From the Side Of My Face

 

    OK, first not complaining. I had to decline the role of Mrs. Peacock in CLUE due to a conflict with one performance. I have tickets to see Richard Thomas in To Kill A Mockingbird. The show is sold out, and it's a limited run the same weeks as the play, so even if I could switch tickets, they'd still be during the show.

    HARUMPH.

    Honestly, acting for free while getting the musical up here would have been a bit much. Last year I directed two musicals simultaneously, but was paid. That makes it a bit better. 

    But my anger today is pretty palpable. See, when I have a sub, I do not adjust performance dates. Curtain UP. The End. So, if you're supposed to perform on a sub day, you perform. Twice now a sub has said they "didn't have access to the theatre". Which is unbelieveable to me, as they are adults and there are two other performing arts teachers with keys to the theatre. So. My third period intro chose instead to make sandwiches. Which was part of their scene, but since the sub "didn't have access" to the theatre, the kids assumed they didn't have scenes even though they were told last week AND I wrote it in the sub plan, so they just made sandwiches. They will be receiving  zeros and it's gonna suck. 

    My Acting 1 class, who are supposed to be Better Than That, did not do their quarter two written assignment. We read Glass Menagerie in class. I did a lecture. We watched the movie. All they had to do was turn in notes on themes and symbolism. They did not. ONE kid turned it in. So everyone but that one kid has an F. After that I clearly stated they were to READ A PLAY from the bookshelf, fill out the document about the play and present it. Two of them did the document, nobody presented. I'm not letting up. They do not get to do scenes until they FUCKING READ A PLAY ON THEIR OWN.

    And that is why there are flames, FLAMES from the side of my face...

    Also the building they have decided is the district's "performing arts school" is the same one I've had to loan actors to because she can't get kids to do shows, she needed a techie (I didn't have any kids who wanted to do it) and now needs lavaliers. Really? You're the Performing Arts hub but you're using my kids AND my equipment? 

    And the band played on...

Saturday, November 5, 2022

Your Silence, Our Voices: Process Buckle Up, This Is Long.

 

          Buckle Up Friends, It's A Long One. And not so much funny. I think this falls under "instruction". 

      I have been trying to get these kids to write their own stories for two years. Existing plays do not feed them the way they did in Littleton, and they want to tell their story, they just don't want to talk about it. They hide and won't get on stage, afraid to be seen, yet won't stop talking or get off their phones. It's a vexxing dynamic, and I still don't know how to deal with it. So. When it came to Advanced Performing Arts class, I decided to just bully forward and Do Theatre, damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.

      So I came in this year like a wrecking ball and said "We're writing. It may not work, and if it doesn't we'll do Our Town." I wasn't kidding, I figured it was easy to stage without a set and they read it last year. But after the shooting last year and the shit show that the entire school year bestowed upon us, I yelled "I can't believe you don't want to discuss this, but I know you want to discuss this. So we're gonna. Start writing."

         Exposition      

      Two years ago when we were online, Jovan Mays did a very impactful workshop with these kids when they were sophomores and freshmen. That same year, we had a computer media teacher who had her kids write monologues, and asked my kids to perform them on video. Then last spring my Innovative IB kids (we rechristened the class when 13 AUT/SSN kids were added)  wrote and performed a piece of theatre inspired by Theatre of the Oppressed. The writer of that piece, who was not even enrolled in the class, is an APA kid who just loves theatre. She was the driving force behind it. I knew instantly that they were ready to write.

      Now, they don't want to talk about the shooting. Which is fine. So Step One was to assure them that we were writing Jovan's prompts to get them juiced up and used to telling stories in general. We kept the lockdown as the location, as the kids from last year fell in love with Come From Away, which we watched at the end of the year. So my proposition was this: you can write about the shooting without writing about the shooting. Is The Breakfast Club about detention? Is Come From Away about 9/11? Let your voice be heard without fear. That unlocked 20 free writes beginning "When they find me...." from 23 enrolled students. Step one complete.

          I assigned the head writer, Gen, who was the writer on TOP in IIB last year, with a new underclassman as her cowriter. Without the experience, he quickly became overwhelmed and I asked him to be the copy editor, which he did-ish. He's easily overwhelmed, so I wrote the structure and scenes as necessary. I said loudly "We are not doing an hour of monologues, friends, the audience will hate us." So I had Gen distill all the stories into 'categories'.

          They boiled down to: sexism and sexual assault with a dating addendum, racism, family issues, anxiety/stress, homophobia, and the fact that the shooting itself was largely ignored by admin and the district. Kids were left with "Get help if you need it, but go to class and Do The Things", and there was nothing polarizing event or mindset in the building to bring them together as a community after the shooting. It was also clear that nobody was going to talk about it, or take steps to keep our kids safe from those who choose to drive here with guns. They just locked us in the building under the guise of "closed campus". So. Step two complete. They were writing.

         Gen then combined monologues into similar stories, creating characters as she went.  Two students took the dating idea, which came out of a very serious sexual assault story, and turned it into something less traumatizing, and more  "teenagery". The two students wrote their scene and back story, then I took over mixing in the monologues and adding the lockdown location. Their story ended up exploring homophobia and anger, which may or may not have been their intention.  We put them in the science classroom, where I added a teacher and two other characters for comic relief and logic. Science classroom: just the facts

         Gen placed the sexual assault stories in the girls' bathroom. They were all still just monologues, so I encouraged her to add some kind of activity. We're limited in a lockdown, but I told her that last year, Rosie and I heard there were tunnels under the school, and decided that was a great way to explore getting the actors on their feet and focused on something. I worked with her to break up the monologues into dialogue, and she finished it out. It's the heart of the play. Girls' bathroom: all of the feelings.

      We decided the third location would be the stage. Since several of the students in class were on stage for the lockdown with me, it made sense. It also gave us a release, a place for actors to move and play, breaking up the intensity in the other rooms. The actors in this scene improv'd a structure I gave them, and came up with the ideas we used. Because one of the "when they find me" pieces was purely fiction, based on a girl being interrogated for a crime she did not commit, we struggled to find a place for it. We decided it fit in the theatre, because they were creating pieces to act out, anyway, to distract themselves from the lockdown. This is the scene were the kids and the characters are most closely aligned, since they wrote the scene after  the "When They Find Me" writing exercise. It allows them to play off of each other, but challenges them to create a character that is not themselves, exactly, but self adjacent.    

            Step 3: check.

         Now we have a structure and characters. We went through and adjusted the scene order, then sent the script to admin and counseling. I had informed the principal on the first day of school that we were writing an original piece, and counseling had reached out. So, I sent everyone the script and we started rehearsing.

            I opened a relationship with Ovation Players in Evergreen last spring. We borrowed costumes for Addams Family from Center Stage, and when I returned them, the costumer invited us to come perform on their stage. It's a long drive, and I put her off, not intending to follow through. Then at a Thespian  meeting, I mentioned the opportunity, and they pushed me to get in touch with CS. We didn't have a product at the time, but we were working on this original piece about the shooting...and they signed us up. 2 October we brought scenes from the show, our top choir "One Voice"  and our drag queen for a performance. We drove up at 11 a.m. so the kids could explore Evergreen and our drag queen could get ready. We had no idea how many people to expect, or what their reaction would be, but damn, they were excited. They all wore their rehearsal blacks and had a great time. They trundled to downtown evergreen and found a pumpkin patch. I made sandwiches and bought pizza. Super Cute.

        After the Evergreen performance, the kids listened to audience members in the lobby. We had about 40 people in attendance. Maybe 15 were from Hinkley. The rest were from the neighborhood in Evergreen, or patrons of CS. Here's what we heard repeated: 

        "I can't believe how willing these kids are to share their stories."

        "These kids are so talented."

        "Wish we had this kind of diversity up here."

        "I love that you have a drag queen and she's 'yours'."

        "Thank you for coming up here. When is your show? I want to come see it."

       Turns out, this was a much needed and unexpected Step 4. Getting them in front of an audience was everything. Do I need to mention that the Evergreen audience was 100% white and the mean age about 60? The only people of color were our people from Aurora.

       Ok.

        Amid all of this, we had to audition for RENT, the spring musical, so we can start rehearsals as soon as this show comes down. (Which at the time, did not have a name). The cast list caused an unfortunate issue and we lost a class member. So the bathroom scene had to be recast, and we discovered we actually didn't have the actors who were cast at every rehearsal. Due to volleyball, family obligations, etc, we had been "rolling through" class members in almost every role at rehearsals. Without realizing it, we were creating a community of people who could step in and do any role. It helped that cell phones are part of the blocking, so anyone subbing in a role they've not done before, can be on book and nobody really notices. 

        HMMM. Interesting. Not ideal for a polished final production, but, is that what we're going for?

        Before Evergreen, I was called into the principal's office. This is not a good look for me, but as it turns out, it is a regular one- the principal didn't understand that in August, when I told her what we were doing, we were going to do it. She was expecting me to check in before we wrote the script. Her central concern was that this play would show the school in a "bad light".  She indicated that I had withheld information, and even suggested that I had gone "rogue". Because this is not my first rodeo, I recorded the conversation and stayed calm. I only mention it here, because this is when I found out we almost lost the show. She was going to shut us down, but didn't. Not because of me. Not because I put up the 'hawk and fought. We have a show because of counseling.

        Our counseling department circled us like a wagon train. They are why we have a show.

        One of our counselors even attended Evergreen and took notes, reporting back to the other counselors. In support. She wasn't spying: she was there on our side.

        Gobsmacked doesn't even begin to express my feelings.

        The Added Step 5 was to give class over to counseling for a day. They reassured the kids that their voices are valid, and they should be heard. The AP came with them and sat in the circle. The kids explained their process, their feelings. Counseling listened and shared their own issues surrounding the shooting. It was awesome. 

        We were told by the AP that they want to invite the mayor of Aurora and the superintendent to attend the show. That's how important they think it is.

        Ummm...breathe...

        A Nasty Unexpected Turn

    We also had auditions for RENT in the middle of this, as I mentioned, and lost a class member. Since the class does the musical and the fall show, we audition really early to give time to teach. It's a bit stressful, but what in theatre is not? I've been doing this for 20 years-not the class doing the show part, but the teaching and directing part. All kids have been taught to be respectful with a cast list, and behave professionally. We had the talk in class and of course it's different when it's your class and not just after school.  A student did not get a lead. To be fair, the seniors all wanted leads in RENT but they all can't sing. They're getting better, but if you are out sung at an audition it doesn't matter how far you've come, you've been out sung. She reacted poorly, aided by painkillers for a recent surgery. Like I said, in 20 years I've never had this happen. It was unfortunate.

    She returned to school the following Monday.

    She has not been seen since. 

    She dropped the entire class.

     Scene.

        Step 6 is to finish the set...

        We are two weeks out of production. The set is incomplete but so what. We're putting the audience on stage and building "classroom walls" around them so they feel immersed. We're closing the house. These ideas came from the set designer, the only other adult around the show. The kids embraced the idea with such enthusiasm that ten of them showed up for tech on Saturday. 

        We have no budget at all. We're reusing flats for which I am grateful. It took weeks to build those flats and braces with Zach last year, and now they're useful! We're making walls out of the leftover foam from Addams Family , we have no ladder or table saw and I had to buy screws and glue, but OK. We can do this. We always do. I always do. We always do.

        Also the district is rewiring the wireless fire alarms, and have chosen now to rip everything out of the theatre. One day I had no sound. Another, no lights. Long, long story as I spent my day fixing issues I did not cause, and talking to every administrator to ask permission to contact a professional, because A) Nobody is in charge of our theatre and B)Nobody is in charge of our theatre, yet I'm the one using it. Between the alarms, the botched renovation in 2019 and rewiring the wireless network, nothing has consistently worked since I arrived in January of 2020.

        The design includes putting the audience on stage instead of in the house, creating both an immersive and 'trapped' feeling, and limiting seating. We weren't going to sell more than fifty seats a night, anyway, their projection is hideous  and it feeds the themes of the show to do it. So against my instincts, I leaned into the building mantra "Meet the kids where they are" and said, OK, fine, we're on stage. Thematically we can make it work, but you still need to project, the set is upstage and enclosed at the apron but the booth is still at the back of the house. Dude. Project.

      AND THEN YESTERDAY I got an email from the AP asking for curtain time because the mayor of Aurora has confirmed he will be there...so I added a performance Thursday, because if he's coming, others will follow and we'll need the additional performance. I'm trying to push kids' families into the Thursday, that way it's still like a preview.

        I'm panicking. Should we have added a weekend since we have  limited seating? Will we still only have ten people show up each night? Why isn't the superintendent coming? Will I get in trouble if the mayor comes and not the superintendent? AND the mayor wants to do a talk with the kids after the show during the school day, in class. What...what?....what.

       Monday 24 October

    Well, so much for panic. four actors are missing today for various BS reasons. So we're running hell week with the student director playing three roles. They don't deserve the attention this show is going to get. Grumpy.

       Tuesday 25 October

    The sound board is dead. Yesterday we discovered that when they rewired the fire alarm, they did so using the same portal as the sound board. So we can get the board on, but it does nothing, the speakers don't work. They also left wires hanging out. And stomped around the cats so we have to refocus the lights. It's fine, we don't have anything else to do, it's fine, let us clean up after you. We're putting the audience on stage, and need to mike two of the rooms for light changes, as he can't hear all the way back in the booth because they have decided not to project. So that'll be cool if we can't mike it. Guess the lights will change when he guesses they should. Even if these kids could project well, it'd be a struggle to hear them from so far upstage. But they do not project, so the SM can't hear anything, he doesn't even know if they're talking. So that's super cool too. I love that they do as they are asked when we do warmups and I tell them to project, and then don't when we rehearse. 

    Since nobody is in charge of the theatre and it seems to be falling down, clearly someone was in here over fall break, I emailed all the AP's, the principal's secretary and the building tech guy:

            "Good morning. Our sound column has been moved and unplugged. We put it back,         plugged it in and reconnected power to the sound board. We now cannot get any sound         through the speakers. It's clear the fire alarm guys were here over break, as we have             sawdust on the stage and exposed wires in the house and the proscenium. Please advise."

     In response I received this from the principal's secretary:

            "I will look a the camera video and see who was in the theatre."


     I shrug. Nobody was in the theatre but the fire alarm guys, but enjoy yourself.

     An hour later I received a call in my room. This the exchange between myself and the principal's secretary. She called my classroom halfway through my planning period.

    "Hi there, so I have Chris on the phone from Equalizer (the guys who fixed the sound install from the renovation) he says he sees this a lot with the fire alarms, he can fix it over the phone. Can you go to the booth and talk to him on the phone and he'll walk you through it?"

    "No."

     Silence. She is not used to me saying no. I feel compelled to explain.

    "This is my planning period. And I'm not the TD. We don't have a TD. Remember that I've been complaining about that since January of 2020? So no."

    "Ok, I'll see if (building tech guy) can do it." It should be noted that "The Building Tech Guy" deals with IT and Chromebooks. He is not a theatre technician, a sound technician or a person with a theatre back ground. Yet he's the boss of the movie screen and the projector in the theatre, and turns on mikes for faculty meetings. And by that I mean he turns on the board, and when the mikes don't work he walks away, and I go up there and fix it. Or I did. Once. Not my problem, I make the AP do it now.

    "Good, " I say, trying not to sound like a dick, "Do that. 'Bye."
    

    To be fair, I am usually very nice to this person, and I know she just wants to help. She knows nobody's in charge, nor will they let me be in charge. But...I'm not an electrician or sound technician, and it's my planning period, and I'm done with this situation. 

    Two hours later, I enter the theatre to find our building tech guy in the theatre with Chris from Equalizer Productions.

    Clearly nothing got fixed over the phone. The building guy looked at me and said "It's the wireless and the fire alarm." 

    Which is what I said when I sent the email. Sayin'. Fun Fact: the day we returned to the building in August, the lights and board were dead. I spent two days trying to get someone out to look at it. Once the professionals arrived, they spent hours unable to diagnose the issue, and finally determined that the fire alarm wireless install, plus reinstalling the wireless network, was interfering with our transmitter. He said they're seeing it a lot in schools who are rewiring their fire alarms. 

    A conversation I've been having with myself since leaving Littleton goes like this: I hate high school theatre, why do I do this? I should've just finished my masters and did community college. It wouldn't have paid well, but I wouldn't have known because I would not have ever been a high school teacher and learned about pay scales.

        26 October

     I have been playing email tag with the teacher, parents and student who I've invited to do the show with us. He is in AUT and was in IIB last year. I literally had to hunt him down, as he is not in any of my classes this year. It's been weeks of labored exchanges, and he will finally be at rehearsal today. 

     Counseling stopped into class today to check in. Nobody wanted to talk, so I sent a student to chat with them so they didn't feel like it was a wasted visit. On stage we threw verbs, learned how to mark beats and revisited acting, as they've decided in addition to not projecting, they will not be acting, either. Just saying lines. Trauma. Likely that's it. That's my current theory. Of course if I had a full cast, ever, at rehearsals, we could work on this stuff together.

    Some rando with a beard and tattooed neck showed up about 5 pm during tech. He introduced himself as the foreman doing the fire alarm installation. I told him he screwed up both my lights and sound (accurate) and he proceeded to tell me that he told them how it worked and he knew "My guy installed it backwards"  and I was thinking "You told who? Nobody told me." Instead I pointed out that I had no idea  that "his guy" installed it incorrectly, and because it was a sound issue, we called the sound guy and had to pay him to come out and untangle it. Wouldn't it have been good for me to have the name and number of the district guy who is in charge of the fire alarm install, the one who knows what's going on, since he works for the district and did the work? Hmmm. Told him to leave his card in the booth so I could contact him. He did not leave his card in the booth. So. I got that going for me. I think he said his name was Ted. All I know for sure is that he has neck tattoos and a beard.

        27 October

    Well, whatever they did with the fire alarm last night did not effect our lights. There are still wires hanging out of the house walls and the proscenium, so that's cool. 

    Our autism friend who we call "Our Friend Emmanuel" because there is another Emmanuel on the show, was such a great addition to the show last night. He knows his lines. The kids welcomed him into their stage scene, included him, made sure he has a costume...All Of the Things. I'm not crying you're crying.

        28 October

    Today's shit show opened with an administrator telling me I have to strike my set for class meetings. Here is how I replied after "no".

    * This play has been on the calendar since May. I was here first.

    *The set is drilled into the stage.

    * This is my classroom, nobody asked me if they could use it. I had to find out by accident earlier this week.

    * You scheduled your meeting a week before opening night, why would the stage be clear?

    *I talked directly to the teacher actually running the meeting, who knows about the set and can work around it.

    * All of this boils down to "Your inability to plan ahead is not cause for me to panic".        

          Scene.

        31 October

        Welcome back.

        This morning the stage manager informed me that one of the actors cannot Do the show Wednesday or Saturday. Due to her work schedule. She's had this calendar since August, and has missed fully half of rehearsals for volleyball. So I suppose it's no surprise she cannot do the show. Which has a preview Wednesday and closes Saturday.

        Good thing I've been subbing people in her role for three weeks, huh?

        This, this is why these people cannot support a theatre program.

        There are two other actors who won't be here today or tomorrow, final dress rehearsals. Final. Dress. Rehearsals. Can't Be Here. Know who can? Our Friend Emmanuel. And everyone else who have been rehearsing for a month.

        I am writing this down, as I am going to quit. I dragged both shows last year across the finish line. Kids who were in them learned, and are not a problem on this show. But I can't retrain this deeply every single year.

        How do you not know you have a show?
        How did you sign a contract promising that the show takes priority?

        Nobody wants to work to build a program. 

        I am not a kid who gives up easily, but I don’t think anyone would blame me for throwing in the towel. I'm sick to death of people celebrating that we endure these shit shows in education. Nobody should have to, and we should stop. If we all quit, the schools would close. The millennials are saying "enough, and opting to focus on themselves and they can, because we're still running things. They aren't wrong, stop shitting on them for wanting a better life. You're just pissed that they had the guts do stand up and you continue as a microscopic cog in a catastrophic plan. I love that line... If we stopped as well, things might actually change. But we are not like that. We're latchkey kids with a crippling sense of responsibility to others.

                1 November
          Without hesitation, I will share that I shamed the above mentioned actor into doing the show Wednesday and Friday. She honestly does not understand how shows work, and I again question what is actually in the water in Aurora.
          I walked my Acting 1 class through the set choices just now. They know about the show, and it's never a bad day to have themes and symbols explained in a set design. They're coming tomorrow for the free preview. Hoping it works out. One of them admitted to being "Low key excited" to see the show. EDIT only one of the Acting 1 kids attended, and did so because her sister works for the City of Aurora. I told you they were all coming, right?
         I had to get off of Facebook, which didn't help. Thescon sent me an update and a Littleton kid is in the opening number. Looking at the schools the kids came from, none are Aurora or DPS other than DSA. One or two up north. Mostly Cherry Creek, all white. Sigh. Immmma go with no Aurora kid actually auditioned for the opening number. It takes nothing to torpedo me. The last three years are really weighing on me. Literally, I weigh 230 pounds, the most I've ever weighed and I can't seem to shake it.- I need a Genie. Or Jeannie. Crystal ball. Something to direct me, 'cause I am lost as lost can be.

                2 November

    So remember how I may have neglected to mention that the district is rewiring all the fire alarms, and doing such has caused my lights and sound to fail at different times? Well, they showed up yesterday at 4 pm while I was getting ready for a final dress rehearsal. They just bullied in with all their equipment. I stopped the foreman with the neck tattoo and asked why he was here during a final dress. I met him last week and he knows we have a show. He bragged about being a Thespian in high school.

    He acted like he didn't know we had a show. There was an impasse. I realized he didn't fully remember talking to me last week. He reintroduces himself. He is not Ted as I thought. He is Tony. Tony again promises to leave a card. Again. Then he informed me that they are doing the work according to the state and district directive, and if I had any issues I would be told to "fuck off" by the state of Colorado. His exact words. There was another impasse. While they were working--in the catwalks, messing up the light focus which we have to now redo, leaving sawdust which we have to sweep and leaving the ladder up without striking it, but that's OK, we'll do it--the projectors and screen all came on. We did not touch them. In fact, I don't go near the screen, as there is a long story of me getting blamed for the previous screen's demise. The thing cost ten grand to replace and I will be charged if anything happens to it. 

    Yet, I was in the booth with a student and another teacher, touching nothing, when the screen began to descend. Had our set been a few feet farther downstage, the screen would have crashed into it. I yelled into the cats and it magically ascended back into the flies. And again, I'm left aghast, again, that we get yelled at by the superintendent for not renting out our theatre, yet I can't manage to get a small fall show up without the sky falling. You want to rent our theatre? Pay a technical director to run it. Why was the alarm rewiring scheduled the week of my show? Because nobody checked our calendar. So. You wanna rent it? Hire someone to run it. And you're welcome for my being here to stop the screen from crashing. Scene.

                    3 November

    Alllrighty friends. We lived through the preview last night, no fire alarms, no mikes popping, no cast missing. I'm exhausted and watching  "No Day But Today", the Jonathan Larson/RENT biography, slamming coffee and ignoring my classes. I've had enough show openings to know not to plan any direct instruction on show week. :)

     Five of the fifteen in the audience last night were counselors. They kept me after the show to express how speechless they are. There are a lot of words when people are speechless. But it was great. I was not great. I am tired. I was grumpy. Yes, the kids '"wrote" it but the bulk of the work was on me, and I'm over it. They want to tell the world how great the show is. We invited the superintendent and his assistant---crickets. But the mayor is coming. They suggested I invite our interim principal's boss, who I do not know and it didn't occur to me to invite her. Sent her an email just now. I can't get my hands on any Genesius medallions, I thought I'd be clever and change the tradition and use Janus masks. But the ones I ordered, that arrived last night, are teeny tiny flimsy charms, not pendants. So shit. I'll call the Catholic store in Wheatridge and see if they have 30 medallions. If so I guess I'll schlep out there before call. Whoot.It's not hilarious that after 20 years I still can't manage to get medallions before the show. I was able to get some in bulk online early for Rumors, but I can't get any of the catholic websites to work for me. So. I assumed Genesius was over, and figured I could do Janus...but nope.     

    I tried to order from three different Catholic stores online for a week. For some reason the websites wouldn't work. Just now I got one to work. So they'll get their medallions in 10 days. Great. I'm doing great. How're you?

     Fun fact, I've eaten an entire bag of Payday candy bars over the last two days. Snack size.

        4 November

     The show opened last night. All kinds of problems with the house, but whatever. My favorite part was being given notes by a parent who couldn't see well due to the student not opening the curtain fully. It happens, friend. The show isn't  perfect.  We're not playing the Shubert, friend.

    But I'm exhausted. I had to direct, and write and play, produce and teach and it was more than I've done in a minute. Turns out I'm actually pretty lazy. I don't like having to work this hard.

    And now we're sold out...I have to try and figure out a way to shove more chairs on stage, as I am not the boss of my own box office. So the ticketspigot did not get shut down, and she sold 36 tickets, while I have 10 comps on the books and 40 seats. UGH. A good problem to have, but one I would not have if I was the boss of my own box office. UGH.

    The AP just came in to encourage me to contact a mom's against gun violence group but we're sold out so I dunno what good that would do. Why am I contacting them? To tell them we're doing a play and we're sold out? I'm so tired. I wonder if what she was saying made sense. She brought yellow roses and orange ribbons (they are for protesting gun violence I guess, who knew) for the kids. Cool. Pretty.

                5 November

    Well shit, that was a lot of preparation for nothing. We oversold the house since I'm not the boss of the tickets, panicked, crammed 56 chairs in there, and had 6 people not show up. So I looked pretty stupid.

       Counseling wanted us to extend, but there is no way. Half the kids took time off of their jobs to do this and must return next week. The others need to do their homework. FAIR. So tonight is closing. Hope it's a real sell out, not like last night. UGH. Though the Mayor is coming tonight, so that's a whole thing. 

        I'm creepily writing as the show is going on. 46 in the  house tonight, it's comfortable since we set for 56. The principal showed up but is leaning against the proskene wall. The thespian president is coming apart, he's been struggling the last two nights, something is NOT OK in his life and he is not handling it, he's missing lines all over the place. It could also be his entire family PLUS the mayor of Aurora is here. I hear he wants to come back next week to talk to the kids during class, but maybe he won't after seeing it.

    I'm going to end this.

    I hope you feel informed and maybe a little entertained. And I hope you opened a bottle of wine and read it in chunks.

        Thank you.

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

52 minutes

 

             Hi friends!

            I wanted to relay a fun story about my evening.

            Backstory: In January or February, I sent a headshot/res to a small, emerging theatre in Bailey. They are doing a staged reading of Doubt. I love LOVE Shanley as you all know, and I would never have a shot at creating the role of Sister Aloysius in a traditional performance, so I threw my hat in. In March, they called to audition me. I heard nothing back after the audition other than an email the next day from the producer vaguely referencing a call back and attaching monologues she recommends for me, and I'm getting ghosted a lot so I shrugged it off. Yesterday, 19 June, I had a callback for them. The staged reading is in September.

            The callback was a Zoom call.  I did my prep for the two monologues, reread the play and re watched the movie. I set up my computer in the dining room where I could have space and light, stacking books for height, and got ready for the 6pm callback. I warned Jim that I'd be in a callback when he came home. I also warned the five cats and three dogs, none of which speak English, but I didn't want to exclude them.

            At 5.57 pm I logged on. I am not adept at Zoom, as I spent 18 months teaching on Google Meets, so when they could hear me but I couldn't hear them, I had to troubleshoot in the meeting. Which is a great look for a callback. I figured it out, but they were subjected to my external monologue as I navigated the menu. When I was finally functioning, it was 6pm. The director and an actor reading for Sister James were the only two in the call. I figured this would be short and sweet. 

            They complimented the googley eyed family portraits behind me, and I explained that Harp had done that when she was pregnant. They found it hilarious. Good hilarious or "Why Did we Call Her Back" hilarious, I cannot say.

            Immediately, the dogs wanted back in.

            Then Sock, the cat, who had been offered re entry with the canines but snubbed the chance, started staring at me through the door. So I let her in.

            So far this was going exactly as planned.

            I had no idea what to expect for two very valid reasons:

            1) I have not been to a play callback as an actor in years. I cannot recall if I had a callback for Steel Mags in 2016 or not. If I did, it was a usual group thing, done where actors are shuffled hither and yon until the cast is revealed. I've not been to a two person callback...ever? I recall three of us for a Sam Shepard at Curious: it was my college friend Jon Arp, my friend Ellen and myself. Clearly Jon was already cast, Ellen and I were competing for the female role. Ellen won. It took maybe twenty or thirty minutes.

        2) I suck at Zoom. The original Zoom audition had been with the director and producer, and took a good thirty minutes. That was surprising to me. They both gave me direction, and then the producer sent me a list of other monologues I should try in the future. Which made me laugh, because I am retired. I can't learn lines any more, the concussion broke my brain and the only reason I auditioned for this were the words "Staged Reading". Which translates to "Not Off Book".  

          So, when only the director was present with another actor, I was thrown yet again.

          I had prepared the monologues, but had not prepared the scene because I struggle with reading comprehension in unfamiliar situations (see above: concussion) and did not know it was expected that I do so.

           After fumbling around, the director asked me to read the scene with the other actor. Because I cannot manage Zoom, I couldn't remember how to get the script on screen with the camera so I can remain in frame. So I had to read from my phone, held in my left hand in front of me, next to the camera. We read it once, and halfway through Jim arrived home. The garage door went up. The dogs went off. The Ring doorbell went off. The kitten jumped on the lap top and toppled my tenuous tower of books that allowed me to look directly into the camera instead of down.

          I kept going, juggling my phone and the laptop for a few lines, before stopping. I laughed and said "Are you sure you wanted to call me back for this?" They both laughed as well, and again I wondered if I was being laughed at, and I rebuilt my tower as we continued. As I adjusted, I named two other actors in town that could nail this part and suggested they call them. More laughter.

          Thirty minutes later I had read the scene five times. Every time she stopped, it was to give me new direction. I've never made an actor read that many times, even if they were cast.

           I figured she'd seen enough, there would be no need for the monologues at this point. 

           I was wrong. She dismissed the other actor and then had me take on the monologues. Again, stopping and starting with new direction as she had in the scenes.

           When she finally thanked me, and started reviewing the rehearsal and performance schedule, it was 6.52. 

           I swear, regardless of what direction I was given, I kept doing it the same way. At one point, she said "Disregard the past direction and think about this thing" and kept talking. By the time she'd finished explaining, I'd forgotten what This Thing was and had to ask her to repeat it. I then proceeded to do the monologue exactly the way I'd been doing it (in my mind) because my brain hurt and I'm not Meryl Streep and I'm not an actor any more FOR THIS REASON.

           I walked downstairs after the callback where Jim was washing the Corvette and got a beer. I sat in front of the TV with the beer for thirty minutes, not comprehending what I was watching, just replaying the callback and ruminating on how ridiculous it must have been to watch me juggle my phone, five cats, three dogs, a tower of books, the lap top and communicating the intentions of Sister Aloysius, and running through the names of local actors I know that could crush that role. Maybe someday I'll get to direct it. Maybe someone would want me to direct them.

           I am definitely not an actor any more.

           And I am OK with it.


            SCENE

           

      


Thursday, July 14, 2022

I LOST MY IPHONE FOR 15 HOURS AND FEEL THAT I NOW GET SWEENEY TODD

 THE LOSS

First of all, let's all acknowledge that this story centers around kryssi going to the gym.

                                        Thank you.

   Since I have an iPhone and headphones from my CD Walkman, I need a happily bemusing "dongle" to connect to my limited Apple library of music. I do not understand how to download music, so what I have are a few random Brenden Urie songs that Harp transported from the sky, and the Broadway version of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. I like the Brendon Urie songs, they're great to walk/bicycle/treadmill to. I save Hedwig for weights. And by "weights", I mean the machines that are weighted and clearly marked "Lat Pulldown", or some other specific identification. I like those. They make sense to me and I understand how to change the weight. Everything else on the weight side of the gym causes me anxiety. I like the hamster treadmill side better. Those people get me. We understand each other. I do not understand human beings with phones in their pockets and wireless "ear pods"  jammed into their hearing canals. How does that work? There is no cord. It's like heat in the microwave, I dunno how it works and I'm not investigating. 

   Generally, I remember the steps to pack myself for the gym. Step one is to put on pants. It is an important step that I do not recommend overlooking. Step 2 is locating my phone. Step 3 is to open the Corvette and retrieve the dongle Jim uses to play his iPhone, because I don't have one. I guess I did at one point, but I probably lost it. Losing a dongle sounds like me. So I borrow his. My headphones stay in my car, because I will not remember both the dongle and the headphones. 

    Yesterday at 4.30, I was halfway to the gym when I realized I had not taken Step 3. I left the house muddled about dogs and kittens and the new kitten was downstairs and the new dog was looking at her and I was worried about leaving. But Harp was upstairs so I left, and did not stop at the Corvette to retrieve the dongle. I shrugged and figured I could just watch the four news channels, the fitness ads or whichever Rock movie they were perpetually playing at the gym while working out. I am not so high strung as to need my power workout mix, or whatever such these kids today use as motivation. I just want to be able to walk at age 60. That's it.

    As I got out of the car, I answered a text about the hooligan dog and cat in question. Then I had to open the back door to retrieve my water bottle. I thought about leaving my phone in the car, since I could not listen to anything, anyway. Then I thought about leaving my keys in the car, since  I was not driving anywhere, anyway.  I then shoved the keys in my right pocket and the phone in my left.

    Now, a bit more backstory: because I do not know the Apple Secret Code to my phone, I cannot add aps. Which is fine, I don't care, but the gym wanted me to add theirs so I can sign in when I work out. When I explained that I am 80 and cannot use aps, they allowed me to use my phone number and fingerprint to sign in. Based on my recent history with fingerprints, I shirked, but all went well. So when I go to the gym, my phone stays in my pocket. I use my fingers to check in. It's like braille. Or finger painting.

     After using the many arm machines that have become some of my closest friends, I moved to the bicycles. I am in love with the low seated bikes. See above "Age 80". When I sat down and began to punch in "WEIGHT LOSS" "AGE" "WEIGHT", I weirdly grabbed my left pocket. It was empty.

    THE SEARCH

     As I may be elderly and doddering, I am also college educated and have managed to fumble my way through twenty years of teaching, so problem solving skills are not a thing I lack. I walked back to my arm machine friends. They are white metal with black bases. I assumed I had lost the phone when tilted backwards from one of the machines. I scanned and squinted around legs and arms, trying not to look at Gym People. I walked to the bike I was just at, looked at the water bottle holder which still held my water bottle, and walked around the bike. Whose base is also black.

     Did I mention my phone is black? That was some bad writing. My apologies.

     My phone is black.

     I then walked back to the arm machines, trying not to look crazy as my eyes crept around the edges while others were working out. I then went to the drinking fountain, thinking maybe I'd put my  phone on the paper towel dispenser. Nope. Then I saw the trash can. I have been known to throw things away. I lost my first set of keys at Littleton that way. I literally just threw them away with the trash and went about my business. I first looked toward the desk to see if help was forthcoming---I'd clearly been searching for something for at least ten minutes. The sentries there were blank faced. So, I dug the plastic bag out of the can and rummaged through it like a raccoon. A nice Gym Person working out near by walked over and politely asked what I'd lost. I said "My phone". He asked if I'd like to call it. Without a beat I said, "How? It's lost."

     At this moment he should have walked away. But he kindly offered to call from his phone, and told me he had lost his ear buds (what are they called in Fahrenheit 451? It's making me nuts. Shells?) and had to dig them out of the trash once. I explained that my phone was only on vibrate, but thank you so much. He said he'd keep his eye out. Nice guy. I appreciate human beings who are present.

     I did one more pass like an alligator in a North Carolina pond at the arm machines, and then decided to tell the desk I'd lost my phone. NOTE: The Desk People just sat and watched me dump the trash. Without expression. I'm not sure they are human. I explained that my phone fell out of my pocket. After blinking slowly, the Desk Person asked if I had checked my pockets.

      I blinked back. Then I wrote my name, the words "black iPhone" and my husband's phone number on a sticky note that he absently put into a drawer. Which he then opened again to declare "No, nobody's turned in a cell phone."

THE QUEARY

       I concluded that I could not find the phone with my eyeballs. Calling from someone else's phone seemed silly since the ringer wasn't on. So I left. The Desk Person told me to call about six pm to see if it was turned in. He said it the same way people say "I have too much homework tonight."

       I called at six. He said it was not turned in. Did I check my pockets? He asked. He then told me to call back at 7.30. I assumed that was the shift change, and he didn't want to talk to me anymore. He said they clean the gym regularly, that if my phone was there it would turn up. "People are really good about turning in phones here," and "Tell me again where you were and I'll go look."

       I called at 7.30. I could hear him open the drawer. "No cell phones have been turned in. But call back at like 9.30 when we close. We clean the place really good, if it's here we'll find it. Where were you, I'll go look." Like I did not know he's the same Desk Droid from earlier. I've given up on believing in their humanity.

       I called at 9.30. "No cell phones have been turned in. Call back tomorrow morning like at 7.30, if someone finds it they'll turn it in. People here are really good about that. She'll clean tomorrow morning too, so if we miss it tonight she'll find it," and of course "Where were you working out I'll go look for it."

       7 am this morning, the Morning Desk Droid told me no phones had been turned in, she didn't see any when she opened, and had I tried my car? Sometimes she wears outfits that dump her phone under her seat...I shut her down. "The inside of my car is in my driveway. I lost the phone in the gym."

       At this point, I've accepted I no longer have a cell phone. I have to take my mom to her doctor  Appointment, and I'm feeling disoriented. So Harp suggests that I use the Find My Phone thing on my iPhone.

    "Do I have that?" 

    "All iPhones have it. You just log into your Apple ID."

    "I don't have that."

    "Yes you do, it's how you download aps."

     Blink. Blink.

    "Harp, I don't know that code, remember? I never use it." Dear Readers, see above "Signs into gym with phone number and fingerprint because she cannot remember her Apple ID".

    "Oh, maybe I can figure it out. If not, try your Apple Watch."

    Ah. The Apple Watch. A birthday gift for Harp a few years ago when they were doing Orange Theory. It's mine, now, inexplicably. I used it for ten minutes before putting it in a drawer. I don't understand the point of the Apple Watch, the only thing it does that I understand is tell time, answer texts, read email and count my steps and my phone does that so...why do I need the watch? So it went into one drawer, and the charger into the closet because that's the game I like to play with my addled mind. Some people prep for Zombies, some for the rapture, I prep for dementia. "Guess Where You Put The Things" is daily routine. It's practice. Or rehearsal. Or prepping. Semantics.

    So before I go to pick up mom, I dig the watch out of the drawer. It has mango lotion on it, and has no charge. It has mango lotion on it because in addition to my myriad peccadillos, I do not fully twist the lids on anything. I remember the charger is in the closet, so I fetch it (only after trying to charge the watch with the flat phone charging disc, because that might have worked) and plug it in. I set the watch on it and the green lightning bolt says it's charging. Great. When I get done with mom's appointment, maybe it will work and I can go the gym and ping my phone, like Bob Hope with a metal detector on the beach. That's the visual, friends, it's not far off.

       At 9 am I leave to get mom.

      THE 'FIND MY iPHONE' THING

    At 2.30 pm I was finally home. Harp greets me:

            "OK, so dad got the Find My iPhone thing to work and it says your phone is in the parking lot at the gym. But I went down twice and I didn't see it. But we can go together, and he can ping it from work. Or we can see if your watch charged, and ping it like that."

        So we drive to the gym. En route Harp has discovered that while my Mango Apple Watch has powered up and tells time, it does not seem to think that I have an iPhone. I park the car and start searching the lot. Harp gets her dad on the phone to ping my phone from Aurora. We're doing great. We got this. 

        The phone is not in the parking lot, I neither see nor hear it. So I just walk into the gym, as I feel very close to the Desk People, and I can hear my phone being pinged. However, neither Desk Person seemed able to hear it. Over the din of my dinging phone, I yell "I'm the one who lost the cell phone. I can hear it. Can't you hear it?"

        Blink. Blink.

        Also, I'm switching tenses. Relax, it's not real journalism. Enjoy the story.

        So the Desk Person and I follow the sound. Other Gym People--the working out humans, not the Desk People--- are looking around, as they can hear the tone and it doesn't make sense. They are looking directly at my phone, which is ringing and flashing at the black base of the bicycle I had set upon a mere 15 hours ago. It was parallel to the base, not flat on the floor, which made it...invisible, really. Unless you were sweeping or mopping or knew exactly where it was. Which brings me to my next point: I don't believe they actually clean the gym.

        I raise up my pinging phone, and declare "At Last My Arm Is Complete Again!" and I march proudly out the doors of the gym.


       Scene.

    PS BECKY TRAMPLER I know you want to go at this to edit, but just enjoy my voice and have a laugh. I love you.