The second summer that I directed Tazwood, we performed The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. I decided (because as director, I get to decide these things!) that we'd start the show with the optional prologue which featured the main character telling the audience about how horrible and awful the Herdmans truly are. I think lines were written for maybe three characters, and the stage direction was minimal for the scene - it wasn't supposed to be a huge focus, just a little segue into the main show. But when you have a cast of spunky, adorable kids ready to perform, you can't make the opening to your show low key and simple.
You go big, or you go home.
So, I turned the opening scene of the show into recess - real, legitimate recess. We had jump ropes and basketballs and hopscotch. Kids were playing tag and singing. I'm fairly certain we had some ring around the rosy happening with our littlest cast members (Sylvie and Claire, cousins, were only five years old and OMG they were adorable....). From the audience's perspective, this probably seemed like the easiest part of the show - kids, being kids, running around the stage playing. What the audience didn't see was the HOURS of rehearsal we spent perfecting that scene....when each group ran across the stage and when each basketball bounced so no one got clocked in the face. And the piece de resistance of the entire 5 minute prologue: the bench scene.
See, I had this idea. This crazy, CRAZY idea.
The prologue was about the Herdmans being terrible....so the audience should get to SEE the Herdmans BEING TERRIBLE, right? So while the "good kids" were playing recess, the Herdmans would roll in, one by one, to wreak havoc. It started with the oldest Herdman sauntering over and stealing a jumprope and progressed from there, but if you know anything about The Best Christmas Pageant Ever and the Herdman clan, you know that they're mean to EVERYONE....including their own siblings. So the culmination of the Herdman family entrance would have to be the Herdmans attacking each other, stealing each others snacks (which of course had been stolen from the other kids at recess), and fighting over the one bench at recess. I can remember telling Ethan just how many laps he had to make around the bench before Chris would put out his arm to clothesline him, asking Quincy if she thought she could crawl under the bench - upside down - to steal the snacks from the bottom, unsuspected. We worked the scene in slow motion first, and then gradually got it up to speed. Every "punch" and "shove" was choreographed, rehearsed, tightened up until it was perfect.
It was 10 hours of rehearsal for 10 seconds of the show.
But that 10 seconds was perfect, hilarious, and exactly what I wanted.
I guess the difference is that when you put in 45 hours of rehearsal on a play, eventually people get to come and see the show. When you (as a teacher or a student!) put in 45 minutes of work on something, there's no promise that anyone is actually going to see it...or appreciate it....and feeling that way makes it seem like the time and effort just isn't worth it.
So, in 7th grade, we are going big....because we've spent far too much time at home with this whole pandemic thing.
The 7th grade ELA class is building a museum.
Yes. A museum.
This museum will have three different areas: The Hall of Influential Women, Diversity Hall, and The Local History Room. When our museum launches, you'll have the chance to wander through the artifacts and become immersed in the history, culture, and experiences of our museum....and experience the hard word that the 7th graders have put into their research and writing this quarter.
This project is going to wrap so many things together: symbolism, research, checking validity of sources, nonfiction essay writing, summarizing...the list goes on. And my favorite part about it: the kids will get to see the fruits of their labor in more ways than just a grade and a number written on their work.
Will it still be 60 minutes of experience compared to 60 hours of work? Most definitely. But will it be just as rewarding as the bench scene from Tazwood? I'm sure of it. (Fingers crossed, anyway...)