Hearing the Roar, Seeing Nothing

The “(Not Fair) Air and Water Show” is the name I’ve given to the late summer Chicago event that lasts three days and makes those with FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) go bananas while roaring noises seemingly fly feet from your roof but when you rush to look you see nothing but empty sky. Some people have to work. Some don’t like beaches. Some have a toddler. This means this is not a show for all people of Chicago as its often advertised. It’s a show for those who have the time, sand affinity and lack of children to make it to the crowded lake front in the heat.
My guess is that some brainy kids who were never asked to go to stuff in high school became stunt pilots to rub it into a city of millions for three days that they finally ended up cool and even if you can’t see them and you want to, you can’t escape hearing them all weekend.

Anyways, this whole idea of “hearing the roar, seeing nothing” got me thinking about my job at The Chicago High School for the Arts. The teenagers roar. A lot. For a laundry list of reasons that you may or may not expect. Their ChiArts day is 8am-5pm (longest in the city) and they are doing three hours of vulnerable acting work everyday in front of peers … even in front of peers who may have posted an embarrassing meme about their weird eye twitch the night before. These add fuel to the flames of regular growing pains and especially those whose lives are compounded by trauma. So, roar they will.

I’m starting my third year back at ChiArts as the Theatre Department Head. I teach freshman, so I’ve now taught or currently teach all the theatre students except the seniors. And when I welcomed everyone back in our all conservatory 90 minute meeting, I went in (as usual) armed with humor, a tight outline that included plans B, C, and W for my raucous theatre kids (this mom was and is an improviser of a high level ; )  But the weird thing was, as I did my deep breathing to make sure I had a still body for the wait time needed to quiet the students… they... got quiet (my comedic self wants to fidget and move but that gives away power onstage when you’re asking for it from 140 teenagers). They listened when I reminded them of the routines and systems like wearing their black clothes to arts classes, and they played fully when I had each ensemble of 20 (there are eight) come onto the blackbox stage and play a mildly competitive warm up game against one another. They listened with empathy to each other when we opened up the last 20 minutes to students who wanted to sing or share a monologue. And it felt after two years of a lot of trust building/giving/love/care/planning on my part and mostly just roar on their part, like this was a moment I got to SEE the airplane through the endless clouds.

I went home and replayed the afternoon to my husband because I almost couldn’t believe how well it had gone (a phrase I don’t utter often). It’s a reminder to keep looking up even though you only hear the roar. One of my colleagues Tina said, (I’m paraphrasing) “a student needs to have 100 failed true attempts at something to change a habit.” And most often they’re in my care when it’s attempt numbers 32-48. Or 17-25. Rarely do you hit the 100 threshold and get to see the lightbulb growth moment with your own eyes. When you do experience a 100 moment, you better save that stuff and put it in your box labeled “warm fuzzy files” you keep under your bed for the darker days. I got one of those emails this summer, and you can bet it’s going in the fuzzy files. This was a student who struggled for a few years, then had a major shift and so I helped him win an all expenses paid scholarship to NYC for a musical theatre boot camp with free tix to a couple broadway shows to boot.

“Hello Mrs. Calhoun I hope you are very well.... What can I say, going to Gathered and being able to Show detail and life in my dancing and not just singing a song but truely  Connecting to my songs and staying grounded with my work all around has really showed me where I am in my journey and I’ve surprised myself so many times while i was there. I’ve learned so much from artist there and Especially From being around Mr. Yonover, i’ve learned how important it is  to keep networking and staying around people that I can benefit from and that would really advocate for me to get to the next level. I will Keep in touch with him for my endeavors. But. With this being said, I would really love to come back to school with a plan that includes all my teachers. I belive I will need You , Mr. Richard, Ms. Slavick, Ms. Scatchell, Mr. Helem and Mr. Westerman and Even My friend Malachi.  I have some where to go and with learning more about Equity and non union, I cant do this without You all. I am willing to put in the work in many areas of my craft. So this is the next step in collaboration. sooo. Team assemble!!! Thank you so much for everything.” -DR

Oh yes, we will assemble.

Then there’s Solly. The mom guilt has been coming in like a thick layer of clouds since school started at the beginning of August. It’s not just that the income from my job is important, which is needed, it’s that I truly love my work and probably couldn’t be as good of a mom if I didn’t have ChiArts in my life. But mom guilt is a roar I can never escape from and can only sometimes negotiate to make softer. I hope there is a plane that appears at some point...the benefit to being a working mom. But I really don’t know. It’s a lot easier to hold hope for this analogy in the school setting because I’ve seen proof. All you need is evidence from one student to keep pouring into the others - knowing you may never see the plane but it’s going to fly near some time in the future. I’ve never been a mom before so I don’t know if the “(Not Fair) Air and Water Show” analogy works for me and Solly. I try to be hopeful and think things like: having multiple caretakers helps his social skills and gives a variety of people to trust… or, he’ll get to grow up with a mom in a leadership role and that’s good for how he’ll view women all his life. But again, I can’t completely silence the guilt. The roar of working motherhood that gives me the FOMO itch every time I look at his picture at work. 

I’m thankful I work at ChiArts. I’m thankful and over the moon to have a toddler running around - even if he is in a “No” phase (like says it ALL THE TIME). I’m thankful for this last sweet window of summer that August brings - with its cicadas and tall thistles and earthy smells and geese. I’m thankful for Humboldt Park and the little funny “beach” that Solly and I have claimed as our happy place. And I’m thankful for the “(Not Fair) Air and Water Show” for providing this analogy in a somewhat bothersome way for three days last weekend.