Last week, I introduced the end-of year play to my Senior Class, students roughly between Grades 4 and 6.
This moment had been highly anticipated by all, and I was quite pleased with what I’d written. I had anticipated the words, phrases and characters that I would need to explain and had carefully counted lines to account for both capacity and personality.
I had considered many variables, but I hadn’t planned for the reaction of one of the two leading actors upon identifying her allotted role. She quietly, but very definitely, dissolved into tears. Throughout the rest of the class, she struggled to maintain her composure, but valiantly quavered through her lines.
The problem?
She had expected a female role. However, in a play based on the theme of “exploring”, and which integrated several key Australian explorers, she was playing one Robert O’Hara Burke – not Roberta O’Hara Burke.
Our lessons are short – only 45 minutes long. I didn’t feel that dwelling on her disappointment was appropriate or warranted. Instead, I assured her that she didn’t have to put on a man’s voice or wear particularly mannish clothes, and that she had the role because she had done so well in last year’s production. I then continued with the lesson.
Over the following week, I wondered what I could do to help this student feel more comfortable with her role. Finally, I decided that, as “clothes maketh the man”, I would work out part of her costume and bring it. Fate decreed that my op shop volunteering morning was today, and I was thrilled to find a fabulous, suede-look jacket, with black laces either side and buttons of bling. I hoped this would mollify her, and help her to start picturing the character as I had envisaged.
When I arrived at school today, the first thing my Burke gave me was an apology for how she’d behaved in the last lesson. I was very touched by this, as it showed she’d been reflecting considerably on what had transpired. She even asked me if she had to wear a beard. This was not something I had thought about, and I said that if she wanted to, she was welcome to.
“I’ll think about it,” she said. I then told her I told her that I had part of her costume with me. She was very excited, even more so when she tried it and it fitted her beautifully.
What’s the take-out from this? The importance of reflecting on unexpected events, and on how we
can try to turn a negative to a positive. Both of us had clearly thought about the previous lesson during the week and were coming to the next lesson with more knowledge, but also a different approach in mind to do things better. A common aim, achieved by different means from different parties. And for a girl on the cusp of her teenage years,
I’m sure a little bit of bling went a long way!
