Favorites and Fish
Things you have to have a true taste for: anything canned with the word fish on it, cilantro, and raising teenagers for a job.
I mean you have to understand what tides in the high school oceans had to shift in order for Derek (name changed) to become nominated by his peers for ensemble rep.
Whatever teacher started saying “you’re all my favorites” is full of shit. They are all LOVED. And that’s the truth. But do I have favorites? Hell yes. And I’m careful that this fact doesn’t produce actions of deferential treatment, because that’s not okay. And usually when I’m within the school I’m so busy putting in the enormous effort to love all, I don’t think about favorites. It’s only when I get home and grumble my way through my sort-of regular habit of making gratitude lists (because Brene Brown says it brings joy and I’ll do whatever that woman says), that certain student names pop on the regular.
My favorite students don’t have anything to do with gender or year in school or talent. They tend to be those who stumble, and then are brave and humble enough to learn and make a change (even if it’s barely noticeable). You’d think I might say that my favorites are those who truly extend themselves to notice a need in someone else, especially when that someone else isn’t popular or liked by many. But...it’s often those who aren’t doing this yet but you can tell they may figure it out soon. I will say that the pride for these students rivals what I feel when I walk into Walgreens for one item and am able to think of at least three other items I didn’t know I needed but I do, and now I don’t have to make a second trip to Walgreens next Tuesday and I’m elated.
Derek came into our school freshman year with energy that ricocheted off walls and others. At one point in our circle chats he spoke about how often he had to be pulled out of classes in middle school for anger issues. That he’d flipped tables. In his first two years at ChiArts he would often escalate verbal teasing to a point where you didn't know if it was real or fake and sometimes he didn’t even know. I’ve gone down and had numerous chats outside classroom doors with him (after a teacher has reached out for some assistance) and our interactions always begin with a subtle twinkle in his eye and the phrase, “See what had happened was…” But there is this humor and this warmth that are never far from his vibrato. When students have a sense of humor, I find that the intensity of emotions can be lightened when I use mine to draw theirs out in their teenage brain fog. Humor allows for relaxation which in turn allows for reflection on both the student and the teacher’s part. You can only tap into this kind of restorative approach if you have a relationship with the student, which is why I make sure to teach all the freshman theatre students so I know them the next three years. You also need snacks. Lots of snacks. Derek comes up to get a snack from me every day. It’s then that I learn about his living situation, his music he writes and records on the weekend, and his audition form for the fall play that he forgot to get signed (he made the play ; ).
Somehow an elixir of things that included our shared sense of humor, and other strong student / teacher influences around ChiArts allowed Derek to push past the giggling and disinterest when we did movement to music. I discovered that movement was his way in. It got him out of his head and out of his yelling. I found myself watching him move during this unit with my rapt, “I’m watching you read a card I wrote you face.” FYI, those few seconds when you watch someone read the sappy blurb on the card you gave them is so weird and I wouldn’t have any self awareness of my own expressive if I hadn’t seen my face in a living room decorative mirror while Rob read a birthday note I wrote him. Oh, and you should hear Derek’s synopsis of the play “A Doll’s House.” Comic gold. The kind of thing playwrights would kill for in their sluggish end of Act I moments.
Anyway, Derek was just voted as the representative of his ensemble. We have 8 ensembles. Four for musical theatre and four for acting. I meet with the 8 reps every Wednesday at lunch. Major changes had to happen for Derek to be the junior actor’s nominee.
This growth in Derek is a good reminder that humans and toddlers don’t stay in the “no” zone forever. Cuz right now we’re DEEP into toddler “no” zone. Will I ever be able to bring a ball to a park without creating little kid world war level arguments. I never thought about that aspect of parenting… That I would purposely leave toys home when in public because after a day of classroom management at high school, I sure as hell don’t want to manage the park kids too. But if Derek can be voted ensemble rep, anything can happen. And maybe there will be a day in the future where I can bring a ball outside my apartment.
Sometimes I want to throw social norms to the wind to tell people - or the dad/daughter duo in the Newark airport I overheard last weekend, to read my blogs. The dad said to his 9ish year old daughter (I’m scary good at guessing ages), “See what happened to your fish? No dog. No way.”
I was the child who convinced my parents to allow me to have a menagerie. I was persuasive and also maintained a B average cleaning their poop and cages so they could never say “well how do we know you’ll take care of the next one?”
Here’s what I wanted to tell this airport dad. Fish are nothing like dogs! I know TONS of people who can keep a dog alive and thriving and who can’t for the life of them keep a fish alive. Why?! Can you imagine a dog needing to keep his “air” an exact cleanliness and perfect temperature, 24/7?! A fish needs an perfect water temperature, cleanliness, and the exact number of weird fish tank treasure chests so as not to overwhelm him but still allow him some stimulation and/or places to hide. Of course dogs require some physical work like walking, but this is MINDLESS. Anybody can walk a dog. You must be a biochemist engineer savior to keep a fish alive. I wanted to tell the dad to skip the fish guilt and get the dog.
I wouldn’t trust myself with a fish, and I’m sure Derek wouldn’t either. But his ensemble trusts him to represent them and that’s huge. Probably because he says things like he did in the theatre advisory meeting today like, “you just have to be patient, and, you know, find out what makes people tick and figure out work arounds for them when they’re off.” I think that puts him well on his way to owning a fish someday. Me? I can’t even keep a plant alive. But I have been able to keep my 18 month old alive and happy so that’s something. Maybe I’ll have a chance at a fish someday. In the meantime I’ll keep raising teenagers.