March 1 , 2006
We're off to see the wizard
By Herm Card
Editor's note: This column chronicles Herm Card's musings in 2005-06, his last year of teaching before retirement. Future installments will be posted here at www.nysut.org/herm.
Add your comments and observations through e-mail to: retiring@nysutmail.org.
During my teaching career I've been asked, not just a few times, if I do any acting. "Every day" is my usual response.
While the people asking are referring to the stage, I am referring to my classroom: my daily performances for my students. It's an interesting question and an interesting response, and lately I've done a bit of thinking about both.
I mentioned a few chapters back that I was a cast member of our faculty/staff production of The Wizard of Oz. I was cast as a flying monkey, the perfect solution to my difficulty with memorizing lines. A few "eeeek, eeeek" exclamations were within my range.
As it turned out, technical difficulties caused the flying monkeys to be deleted from the condensed script, but I was able to hook on as the narrator, which allowed me to read my lines. I also filled in as the off-stage voice of Toto — "arf arf" being on the same difficulty level as the monkey's lines, but without the distraction of moving around the stage.
I had not appeared on a theatrical stage in 15 years, and that was a faculty production (a melding of A Christmas Carol and a commercial for the Clapper that I had co-written). I was not confident in how this new venture might work out. As it turned out, it was a great deal of work for everybody. It was sometimes difficult, but also challenging, energizing and fun. It was the best thing I have been involved with as a member of this faculty.
According to my 9-year-old granddaughter's perspective, I should thank the cast for filling in the bits that help the audience make sense of my narrative — to flesh out my part a bit, filling in details to support my stirring summary of the action on stage.
That makes sense. She came to the play to see me, and regardless of what else happened — as good as it was — her focus was still on me. I am thankful for that. She told me she liked it and liked me. She didn't critique me, didn't suggest I might have done something better than I had. She just smiled a large smile and hugged me. Her almost 13-year-old sister gave me the approving nod, a more mature, less demonstrative code for the same thing. A few others in the crowd of 600 spoke to me, passing along varying degrees of compliments.
Fortunately, no one stopped to tell me I was bad, though there may have been some who didn't connect with my interpretation, didn't see the need for the humor I attempted to bring to the part.
Still, there were more than 500 from whom I received no feedback.
Throughout the audience, for the most part, it was similar. Families came to see one (or more) of theirs, and were willing to put up with the rest of the play that revolved around their loved one. Spouses came to watch their partner, friends came to watch friends, students came to watch teachers. Some came simply to enjoy a performance, and others may have come as a way to occupy time. Some, too young perhaps to refuse, attended reluctantly. Afterwards, in small clusters and a receiving line, compliments were passed, thanks returned.
Regardless, for a time, each of us had an audience, each was the focus of someone's attention; each had a moment to contribute. As a cast, however, we could not divide our performances to single out those who came specifically to see us. We each portrayed our character as part of a group, fitting together to make the entire performance the best it could be for the whole audience's enjoyment.
In a bigger sense, that is what teaching is all about. For 40 minutes at a time, we have an audience. Within that audience are some that come to see us, some there to "see the play," others there to occupy some time, others too young to refuse to show up.
We must perform equally for all … directing our efforts to the group rather than the ones who most want to see our performance
We must rehearse — we cannot just perform. We must understand our roles — who we are. We cannot be a person who is just taking on the role of a teacher, or a teacher who happens to have other roles outside the classroom. We must be both — we must meld the roles into one, one person, one teacher.
We must "become one" with the character. If we are to be believable, we must believe. We must believe that who we are is more than just a character, more than just a role we play.
We must perform since there are expectations of this character who is on stage. We must create a reality for our audience even if we are not totally convinced it is reality. We must accept that we have been properly cast, that we belong.
The narrator's role was an interesting parallel to my teaching career. As narrator, the director allowed me to rewrite as necessary. I could costume myself, bring into play a substantial amount of my own personality, use my own interpretation of how the narrator should relate to the plot and the audience, and how I might interject elements of entertainment that would enhance the production.
I am sure that I have been successful as a teacher for much the same reason. The "directors" have allowed me a great deal of freedom. They have allowed me to create my own script to costume myself. I have been able to bring into play a substantial amount of my own personality, using my own interpretation of how I should relate to the curriculum and my students and how I might interject elements of entertainment that would enhance my production.
At the end of this show, after its run of over 30 years, some will stop and tell me they enjoyed my performance, that they got something positive from it. Some will tell others, but not me, what a bad job I did. Most will just leave the theater with their opinions kept to themselves, offering no feedback that might help with a future performance.
In the end, all we will be able to judge ourselves by is the standard we have set for ourselves. That is what I will do when I walk off the stage in June, and hope that I have given the best performance I could.
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Herm Card, a member of the Marcellus Faculty Association, teaches English at Chester S. Driver Middle School in Marcellus.
Herm Card