Month: March 2023

It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you  Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!

I waited outside the stage door to catch a glimpse of the stars after they had slipped from their costumes and were headed home for the night. Then the doors burst open and THERE THEY WERE! Who screamed more, I or they? We threw our arms around each other and jumped up and down squealing. 

My former students! Transformed into middle schoolers with stage presence and strong voices and so much gorgeous zeal! 

Beaming.

I am just beaming, from last night’s performance of The Little Mermaid, the first-ever schoolwide production at my old school. 

The school has long emphasized the arts, with each grade doing many exciting projects involving visual arts, drama, music, and dance. I was founding faculty back in 2011, teaching preschool. (I retired in June 2020, and I serve on the school’s board. I love this place.) I remember so many conversations through the years, considering ways to expand these enriching opportunities. This was a dream-come-true, to have a whole school endeavor like this. 

I am so proud of the school’s inclusivity. This was not a production by the ‘favored few.’ With great thought and planning, every student from second grade up had the opportunity to participate in this production. The middle school students had primary roles and the younger grades participated in chorus and dance numbers. There were countless ‘behind the scenes’ roles for students as stage hands, costume and makeup, creating sets and props, publicity, and more. 

I arrived early to see the magic at work. The main lobby was alive with all things ‘under the sea.’ Young artists’ handiwork was all over the walls. There was a ‘will call’ ticket window and a yummy refreshment area, all staffed by students (with some essential adults on the sidelines, of course). Teachers and other adults were directing performers to get in position, and still others were supporting students backstage and in other rooms, readying for their cues to be on stage. Lots of movement, lots of energy, lots of coordination; everyone was smiling and energized: the show was about to start! 

Outside the school, the line to enter began forming some 45 minutes beforehand, and by the time the doors opened, the line queued down the street. Wait, is this Broadway, lol? I loved listening to the chatter of families and friends in that line – everyone was so excited and enthusiastic. This was the third of four evening performances, each one sold out. 

What a time-travel sensation I experienced, 
to see these 
once-upon-a-time 
squirmy young preschoolers 
up there on stage
bellowing song lyrics and reciting line after line, 
‘owning the audience.’ 

Waiting outside afterwards, I did my very best to get each one’s autograph on my playbill – a treasure, indeed. 

Theater is tremendous work, 
tremendously satisfying and fulfilling community-building work.

So proud of my school!

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It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you  Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!

I unwrapped the treasures carefully, unwinding the cushioning bubble wrap, slowly unfolding the packing paper; I knew that a gentle touch was required. There they were.

Dad’s dolls. 
Two clay male figures in traditional Japanese clothing. 
One a painter, 
One ‘outside,’ enjoying nature. 

My brother arrived with yet another bin of Dad’s things. He had packed and labeled this box for me a couple years back, at the time of my Dad’s death. The box got pushed to the far side of his basement, and forgotten. It was only when my brother was moving from his own house that he found the box again, and realized he had set this aside for me. 

I have a doll collection, not an extensive one, but a collection all the same. When I travel, I always look for locally-crafted dolls and choose one as a souvenir. 

I have long adored these two dolls of my childhood home.

I wonder if the ‘seed’ of my collection is these two figures. They feel precious to me, having been a fixture in my parents’ house since before I was born. They were always up high on a shelf, moving around the country with us through the years. I remember that we weren’t allowed to touch them. Interestingly, the nature figure’s right hand is broken and cracked – evidence that someone at some point had their hands on it. Was this someone, me? I admit to being very attracted to and intrigued by these kind figures. 

I wish I had pestered my father for the particulars of this purchase. I wish that he or I had written down the details. Their history is lost. 

I am able to read a stamp on their base, which states “Craftsman Hakata Doll MADE IN JAPAN.” According to Wikipedia

Dad, who worked his entire career in the Navy, was not in Japan during the American occupation.  He went to Japan in the late 1950s, when he participated in ‘summer cruises’ as part of his course of study at the Naval Academy.

I have mixed feelings about these dolls. I am honored to have them, and yet troubled that these are tinged with war. 

I am reminded of Ross Gay’s exploration, in his book Inciting Joy, about the roots of things, how everything in our world is interconnected and complex and often involves violence and brutality –

Perhaps this quote strikes you as overly dramatic for a couple of clay dolls that I have inherited. Maybe it is. 

These dolls are complicated for me. I adore them. I wonder about them. I will continue to meditate about them. I think it is so beautiful that one is a painter and one is a lover of nature – these feel so inspirational to me, synchronistic with my own joys in life. 

I grew up alongside them.