If Death Takes a Holiday, I Should Get One Too!

For those of you who know me well... know my life... know my "flit" mode as my buddy Kim calls it, you know that "show-week" means insanity. Here I am- 3 days away from our spring show opening- a wonderful cast split with students who know how theater works, and those getting their feet wet for the first time... and as I awake in a panic at 2am I ask myself, "WHY? Why in the bleeding-frickity-frackity-blankity-blank do I put myself through this torture twice a year?" (Again, for those of you who know me well, you know that although I often fail at filtering my verbal words, I'm much better about filtering what is written down for posterity!)In the last week, I have been running around in circles: shopping for costumes, buying paint, writing up light cues, running rehearsals, sending out press releases, etc. Did I mention I have a full-time teaching job in addition to this? Oh, and then there are those pesky people at my house who call themselves my "family" and seem to think I should help feed children, do laundry, drive kids around, etc. Honestly, I'm not a very good person during this week. I'm short tempered. I'm easily freaked. I simply don't play well with others. My mind is going in about 500 different directions at once. So why? Why does Death get a holiday and I get stress attacks?

Okay... this is why: there are these amazing kids I work with. Some of them are strong students, and some are strong athletes. Some of the kids run with the "alternative" crowd, and some hide behind soda machines so they aren't seen. But when they come into the student center, and we make this art together, they become a family. They figure out how to work with kids they'd never talk to in the hallways. They clap- loudly even- for the young actress who finally figures out how to scream from backstage. They become beautifully human- treasuring in each other the skills that will bring them all to opening night. And I am entirely honored to be the lucky adult who is there to witness it all.

People always try to "box" drama club in with after school sports... but there is a fundamental difference... we do not compete. We create. We share. There are no trophies, nor any state playoffs. And we, we happy few are okay with that.

So much to say... and so few words to say it...

Yes, I've been gone from here for a month, and YES, I am sorry for the lapse in the blogging work... however, I've been busy putting on plays, travelling in Europe and swimming in my very own estrogen pool, also known as home. So much to say here and so few words to express it all...

I've recently become very sensitive to our inability to face each other and tell the truth. Not the mean "your face looks like it got run over by a truck" truth, but the type of truth that makes us vulnerable- the type of truth that makes us more human. In part, because our truths can often be recognized as personal opinions, I suppose people shy from personal honesty for fear of confrontation. Immersed in the teen world as a high school teacher, these inabilities become apparent. I watch brave kids bare their souls while peers, uncomfortable with this vulnerability, run in fear. I watch kids say they do not want what they so obviously desire. I don't understand how society has taught them to close up and protect themselves at all costs, but in so many cases, this seems to be the lesson learned. "Stiff upper lip kids... don't show them they've hurt you..." Why? Why isn't it okay to be vulnerable? Why isn't it okay to get hurt, be hurt, act hurt, then heal without hiding all the hurt? Wouldn't it be better for us to tell each other how we really feel? Again, I'm not talking about doing this in anger- but with kindness and without a desire to hurt others, wouldn't it be nice to just be able to say to each other: "I think you are amazing... It hurts me when you ignore me... I hate the fact we don't laugh... I want you to know who I really am..." After months or years in relationships, we occasionally get to this level of intimacy with our spouses, but for many people, that is it. How amazing might our world be if we could have open, kind and truly honest relationships with those around us?

And yet, we teach our children to fear the judgement of others... to hide their vulnerable emotions from outsiders... we are so afraid of being hurt, do we forget to connect?