It’s just a little half hour 3rd grade play.  I’ve been doing plays of all kinds for close to 30 years and you would think by this time there would be nothing to be stressed about.  Sure, there is the “unknown” factor when you put 75 eight year olds on a stage in front of an audience, but hey, what’s wrong with a little improvisation once in a while?

Years ago, I did this cute little kindergarten play and all the kids had stuffed animals with them standing on the risers.  The singing and movements were well rehearsed and the cuteness factor was on overload.  Until the first kid threw up.  All over the riser where he was standing and the stuffed animal he was holding.  The other kids kept singing and dancing.  The a second kid starting crying because he thought his friend (the one who threw up) was dying so a teacher had to take that one away too.  And still, the other kids kept singing and dancing.  I’m pretty sure I remember a third kid doing something and despite all the craziness where homeroom teachers were removing some kids, the others did their job.  Preparing the kids is not the issue.  It’s that improvisation I spoke of, like a stomach virus, that you can’t prepare for.

I was so fortunate to work with a dear friend who has since passed, who taught me a lot about the tricks of the trade.  I watched how he auditioned kids, how he set up rehearsal content and schedules, how he taught kids to use a microphone and how to bow.  I learned how to take care of and store equipment and how to get good people to help and how to delegate, all while keeping his finger on just about every facet of the production. Just because the actors/singers were young did not mean he didn’t expect excellence. Watching and learning from him has served me well and helped me avoid some things that others may have difficulty with.  For instance, I followed a teacher once who would  place large trash cans on either side of the risers for kids who needed to throw up during a performance.  When I told the kids I wasn’t going to do that and taught them how to stay loose, breathe, when to sit down if needed and rehearsed them to the point where they knew it cold, I didn’t need trash cans.  When I can look kids in the eyes and tell them I will be there with them, no matter what and they trust me, we don’t have to worry about these kinds of things.  I’m so grateful I was able to learn so much from my friend.

Then come the “what if” questions.  What if the main character gets sick?  What if something breaks?  What if I forget my lines?  I tell them I don’t answer “what if” questions and everything is going to happen the way I say it will.  I had a child perform one night after breaking his arm between the school day and the play and he showed up with it wrapped and the show went on.  I’ve had kids show up with temperatures and everything else because they were invested in what we were doing, not because I made them do it.  And well, honestly, there are just some things I can’t do anything about.  No point in telling the kids that – I’ll just take care of things as they need to be taken care of.

Then there’s technology.  What can I tell you?  When I have to deal with technology, there’s always a glitch of some kind.  I can have it all set up before a rehearsal and darned if something stops working between when I did the sound check and when the dress rehearsal begins.  That’s probably the only thing that stresses me out at this point in my career.  I know exactly what I want to happen, but if the technology doesn’t work in terms of the iTunes on my laptop or any kind of visual presentation that goes with the production, I’m at a loss.  It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I work with the equipment, invariably something won’t work the same way it always has.  The good thing is that this is a great way to teach kids that everyone makes mistakes and sometimes things happen that are out of our control, right?  I’m just hoping it won’t happen in front of an audience this time.

So why keep on doing these things?  It’s not a part of my contract – I don’t have to do any performances technically.  Despite the occasional unexpected improvisation or technical difficulty it’s the final product that gets me every time.  It’s the look on their faces when the audience applauds enthusiastically for their efforts.  It’s the look of pride on the faces of those parents, especially those surprised parents who couldn’t imagine their son or daughter speaking in public, much less singing by themselves.  It’s the tears from the parent whose special needs child was included just like every other child. It’s the amazement of adults when they see what kids can do together when working on a large collaborative project and making a success of it.  And it’s about those kids who say things to you like “that’s the best thing that every happened in my whole life!” and you know they mean it.  All 7 or 8 years of that life.  And my hope is that they’ll continue to pursue these different art forms to help them grow in their self assurance and to see that hard work and collaboration with others can be a great thing.  So, on with the show!