3 August 2026
We all know my application story and why I started teaching.
Here's a story you don't know.
Which is also a love letter to Stephanie Ortiz for her birthday.
After I was soft hired at Littleton--- after the AP and theatre teacher "hired" me -- I had to meet the principal. Dr. W had been the principal for many years, and I was scared to death of him. I had never taught before-only subbed-which is why I accepted the part time theatre position. My kids were in elementary school and I didn't want a full time job. Part time sounded perfect. I could learn to teach while teaching and still be a parent.
I was sitting in Dr. W's office for my final "interview", which he seemed to take very seriously by putting his feet up on his desk and nodding off. I wore the same dress I had for the initial interview, one nobody ever saw again. I sat up, back straight, dropped the few ed vocab words I'd gleaned like "differentiate" and tried not to hyperventilate. His phone rang.
He picked up as I was talking, as one does when one is highly engaged with another person. After a brief exchange, he hung up and put his feet back on the floor. He looked at me over a pencil he was twirling.
"Do you want to be full time?"
"Excuse me? I applied for the part time theatre position."
"Yes, but a lang arts teacher just quit. It's part time, so you'd be half and half. Do you want to be full time?"
No, I did not, and I was even more unqualified to teach lang arts than I was theatre, but I am easily bullied by older men so...I said yes.
What I did not know is that the previous part time theatre teacher-for whose job I was hired- had not quit teaching or left the building. The PT Theatre job was open because she needed to work full time, so she switched to full time lang arts in the building.
She had been teaching at Littleton for two years, waiting for exactly this opportunity.
Which just landed in my lap.
When I was at my induction in August, the AP gave me a gold LPS pin. He smiled and said "I hear you're the new Ms. Haight".
What? You hate me? The kids will hate me? What are you saying, sir? I just met you, why so much hate? I'm new hate? There was old hate? Somebody please help me!
I had no idea who this Haight person was. I do not remember meeting her for the first time. I heard about her from Jim and Don (music), the AP and the theatre teacher, who all called her "Steph" I remember meeting her at some point in the hall outside of 146--I think she came down to say hi to Jim and Don, and I happened to be in the hall. Probably because the door knob to 146 was sticky and I could only get in about half of the time. That tracks. The full time theatre teacher did not help me to figure out how the door worked, or attempt to fix it. He just berated me because I couldn't get the door open, so I spent time in the hall trying to figure it out.
She introduced herself. She was Stephanie Haight. AHH!!! Good God, thank you for the connection. She told me --wihout any anger or spite---that I had been hired for the job she had wanted. And also, she loved theatre and would be happy to help out in any capacity.
The kids loved her. I heard many stories of how bad ass Ms. Haight was--she played pool at cast parties, fell off ladders, her laugh filled the shop during builds--the kind of stuff techies love. I can still hear her demanding to know the location of the push fish.
Once we realized we would get along, she changed our badges to photos of Carl and Lenny from The Simpsons. She jumped in to do lights and sets, came down to tell jokes and stopped by my lang arts classroom---which I shared with the woman I regard as my true mentor, a seasoned lang arts teacher--to brighten my day. Her eyes were always the size of saucers, full of glee and love of life. She actually made her lang arts kids memorize the opening of Beowulf and was rabid about the difference between "Old English" and "Elizabethan English" because kids are idiots and think Shakes is Old English.
Her willingness to help my slaggy inept ass created a smooth transition for students, but unfortunately also built a "New Vs. Old" rift between us and the full time theatre teacher. We did nothing to feed it, we didn't have to. We just got along and liked the kids. To be fair, any time there's a change, kids get spikey. I did not know anything had happened until the full time theatre teacher accused me of creating a "Kmart camp". I was half theatre and half lang arts; I didn't have upper level theatre kids and only directed the spring shows, initially, then the fall show. He had he musicals, the upper level classes and IB. I did costumes. I literally had no idea what he was talking about, and had to ferret Steph out in her cubicle to be talked down. She knew the drill all too well. Part of why she decided to exit down the hall was this man's browbeating approach to everything
When I did Laramie Project, I was able to contact Moises Kaufman, who was roommates in college with one of our social studies teachers. I just did it, I called, I followed through. He connected me to Leigh Fondakowski, who happened to be "nearby" in Utah, and willing to come see a rehearsal and chat with the actors. She wasn't 'free' of course, Tectonic felt a donation would be appropriate and I agreed. The full time theatre teacher scolded me, said "We're a school, they should do it for free" and "Admin will never agree to a donation".
So I walked down to admin and said "Can we?" and the Beautiful AP----who remembers the moment to this day----said "Of course!"
Steph did lights and set with a former student, and we created something unique that teachers still talked about 15 years later. I remember sitting in the house looking at the stage and listening to her walk through the color changes in the light plot. I was so impressed, and again ashamed because in no way was I capable of this job. She was. Full stop.
At some point we started bullying the guys---Jim, Don and at first the theatre teacher, then just the four of us---into performing at the senior cabarets. We rarely had a clear idea for a piece. The first time, I just said Breakfast Club and then wandered down to her room, where they were waching Chicago. I looked at her, pointed to "He had it coming" happening on the screen and said "Why don't we do that?"
She knew immediately what I meant and we built a base for the scene. The five of us would each be who we were in high school---the stereotype---each in detention. We'd each sing about how we got there, using the structure and chorus of Cellblock Tango.
Because I'm the punk rocker, I was innocent. The intellect, Jock, theatre kid and band kid were all actually guilty. I sprayed bleach on my shirt to create an Anarchy symbol, Steph wore her trademark side ponytail---the character Deb in Napoleon Dynamite is Steph---I choreographed something easy everyone could do-mostly stomping-and it killed.
Steph's sprinkler dance move brought the house down. She can claim she's a techie all she wants. She's funny.
My husband's standard response when I say Steph's name is "Stephanie is soooo funny." He said it once after a cabaret---I think it was when we did "Suddenly Seymour" as
"Suddenly Stephanie"---and got smacked. So he says it all the time now.
One year, after I became full time theatre, we switched classes so she could teach Intro. She missed teaching theatre, and I was bored with Intro, so I took her Comp World Lit Honors and she took Intro. Today I am amazed anyone let us do that. I'm also amazed nobody in Comp World Lit Honors complained to admin and that I still had a job teaching theatre. She clearly loved it and was much better than I was.
Steph always wore heels or pointy toed shoes. She could be heard walking down the hall. Very What Not To Wear, she always looked put together.
We couldn't be trusted to sit together during staff meetings. We literally wrote notes and drew pictures and cackled like loonies in the back row.
It was Steph who came into my lang arts classroom when the Virginia Tech shooting happened and whispered "There's been another one." I knew what she meant, but she didn't want to alarm the students. A few years later one of the kids who was in that class told me she remembered that day, and Steph coming in and she said she knew there had been a shooting. No social media, not text, not our whispers; she knew based on how we both looked.
I said "Pagent wagon" to her once for A Company of Wayward Saints and she and her husband (who may have been a fiance at the time?) built a wooden wagon so durable it stayed until I left the building, to be used in choir pops concerts and as a prop table.
One time I walked in on her backstage during an off period; she had a wooden broom stick and a bucket of glass. I watched as she added and subtracted glass and other found items to change the sound. She finally saw me and said "Breaking glass! Does this sound right?" We were doing Noises Off and she'd already designed and built an amazing set with students, and had moved on to creating practical sound for a window break. It was scripted but I didn't really care about that particular detail. But she did.
I got it. She loved theatre and didn't want to leave. Done with one job, she started the next one. She did lights and sets and props with the same gusto every time.
On Little Shop Of Horrors she recruited a student to build plant tendrils that would "grow" on the flower shop walls, and others that she wanted to use under the stair units below the apron. Those never quite made it, it was a great idea but I'm not a great director and that show overwhelmed me. She would have made it work, but I didn't have the time to give her room to do it. I was an asshole. Honestly, I still am.
HOWEVER, she did lights for that show and I still do not know how. The set designer was a retired theatre teacher from our sister school who was difficult to work with. Our locked grid was only 12' from the stage floor and he kept building trucks at 11'5", with no regard for lights. The plant, built by an LHS alum for a community theatre production was 11' tall and 11,000 pounds. We had no fly, a locked grid and no wing space. HOW she lit that show is still a mystery to me. She had to strike all lights from center because of the plant.
I went shopping for a wedding dress with her. I attended her wedding. I took the first family photo in the hospital when her oldest was born... who just graduated from high school this May. We sat on the patio of My Brother's Bar with beloved alumni many times.
But I think the most fun we had was a mess of a summer production we created called O2V. It was an adapted/butchered Orlando by Virginia Woolf, and Steph played Virginia. She paced on the outside square of the inner circle we built, writing and creating and struggling with her own life as well as creating the story of trans Orlando.
It was A Lot.
It was A Mess.
It was Ours.
We used the MK Ultra Warehouse by the Merc---lovingly referred to as The Tuff Shed-- LIDA Project's home. Brian was around and supportive, but LIDA's name wasn't on as producer. He just let us come play. We had my actor friends, another teacher, former, current and future students and my oldest child in the cast. My sister and I costumed. Steph and I wrote. It was hot. We all learned how to say "I'm not wearing pants" in Russian. It rained on the tin roof during a performance. The LHS principal at the time attended. It was true community theatre, and I never would have done it without Steph.
Her birthday is this week. I could never remember which day, so years ago I just started spamming her Happy Birthday memes beginning on August first. Last year I forgot. I just...forgot. I have no excuse.
I've known her since I started teaching. And through three districts and three performing arts departments, she's been my only work wife. I've had colleagues, some better than others, only one villain. But nothing like Steph. Nothing compares to her relentless positivity and true passion for life.
I will send this to her. I'll probably print and mail it. She has no social media, what she calls "Facey Spaces".
Happy Birthday Beautiful.
