Thoughts Along the Causeway
July 17, 2018
As we drove down the pot-holed causeway from Gugeegue to Ebeye, my host and I talked a little about the final performance of the drama students. We marveled at the transformation that many of them experienced, taking enthusiastic ownership over their drama scenes and vignettes to such a degree that during the performance many of them improvised a great deal of new material. In an earlier blog I wrote that, in the early days of the workshop, one of them mentioned the challenge and joy of stepping out of their comfort zones. That performance night, they leaped, jumped and dived head first. I had discovered just a couple of hours before the performance that we had to microphone stands. I suggested maybe we place the cordless mics on the group in front of them and hope some of their performance would get picked up by the mics. The students seamlessly and without skipping a beat scooped up the mics and simply incorporated them into their performance, sharing the mics, passing them around and even going so far as to use the technology to create some simple sound effects. Unphased by a dog wandering about the stage, or the baby boy who waddled up and tapped one of the actors on the knee to get his attention, the kids listened well to the audience and paused like professionals for laughs and other audience response. The local paramount chief (ex-president of the nation) sat right up close to the stage. When a quartet of young girls played a scene of going to the store, they talked directly to the chief as if he were the store owner. The chief played along with them.
The most affecting moment came a couple of nights later, however, when we had a farewell party. The director of the program invited the kids to come forward and say a few words. Often that kind of moment is left to one reluctant spokesperson of the group or the call goes unheeded. That night six students stepped forward. Five of them were from the drama class.
Driving down the causeway, on my way to catch my return flight, a woman unknown to me sat at the back of the truck listening to the director and I talk. In a pause in the conversation, she said, “Oh, you’re Dan.” This young woman works for the organization I had a long affiliation with, Youth to Youth in Health. For some 18 summers, spread over nearly 25 years, I worked with students to develop performances that we toured all about the island nation. “Oh, you’re Dan. I’ve heard them talk so much about your drama work.”
When I had first arrived two weeks prior, on my first day wandering about the island, a man came up to me with an inviting smile. “Dan! You’re back!” He had been a student of mine, on that very island, 16 years prior. On a later day, as we drove past the police station, another past student (now a police man) shouted out to me. And on the night of the performance, one of the parents in the audience had been a student nearly 25 years ago. Each re-acquaintance was accompanied by the same smiles and warmth. It’s lovely to witness how we can inspire students to engaging performances, as the drama students did that weekend. And it is life-affirming to know how long that sense of accomplishment and joy can stay with a person, even if you haven’t reconnected with them for 25 years.
When I first arrived for this 2018 drama experience, I wrote about the ‘discomfort of the uncomfortable’ as I adjusted once again to the flexible, resilient life style of the islands that I often struggle to achieve. By the end of the two weeks, I was spending more time outside in the heat and under the stars then in my simple, air-conditioned house. I left my computer packed up and stepped more often into the unfamiliar.
How rich the transformative experience!