Thanks to the tireless efforts of a dear friend and former student, suddenly I'm not so sure the fat lady has sung, after all.
Starting next week, for seven consecutive Friday afternoons, three hours a pop, I will be giving a course tentatively called "Splashing Around in Shakespeare" to 15 teenagers at a fine-arts boarding school. "They will meet you at your intellectual level," the department head predicts. Makes me a little nervous; I haven't been in a whole roomful of really smart kids who actually want to learn since 1997. Do I still have my chops? I wonder.
One good thing: these kids and I operate from the same side of our brains (I can never remember whether it's right or left). They are painters, singers, musicians, actors, and writers; they range in age from 14 to 18. They are away from home, sometimes halfway around the world. Their hair is purple/green/blue/pink, their eyebrows are pierced, their tattoos glow in the dark--they are among the most Intense People Their Age, already known for its intensity. And for its acuteness: all teens' BS detectors are calibrated to an eyelash. You only get one chance, and you get it in the first three minutes of the first class.
"Not too much structure," the dept head advises. "It's Friday afternoon, after all. Don't overdo the syllabus thing. Just go with your gut." O music to my ears! We'll do Romeo and Juliet and Much Ado About Nothing. We'll read them, we'll watch them (on a wall-sized screen) and we'll tawk a lot, write some. I can hardly wait.
If it's half as much fun as Story Time at the liberry--where the oldest person is three, many others are in diapers, and nobody can read--I'll be perfectly satisfied.
That is fanTAStic news!!! Way to go, Doc!
Posted by: beth | January 28, 2005 at 11:45 AM