Exit Stage Left

Done.

With set strike yesterday, I’ve completed what will be my last production for a while.

I direct the high school plays here at The School. Or, I did. But with the end of this show, I will be taking a leave of absence of at least a year to decide whether directing is more in my blood or on my back.

For the last twelve years I’ve directed a fall play and a spring musical as part of my job here at The School. That’s a lot of plays. (I did take off one spring when Youngest was brand new.) Two of the musicals were original, one a musical adaptation of Shakespeare, and the other this one.

Remember how admirable it seemed when Seinfeld's show went off the air while still at its peak? Well, I maybe stuck around a little too long.

Simply put, after twelve years the grind was getting to me. Not the working with kids part; that's not the grind. Rarely will you find teachers who get burnt-out from working with kids. That’s the creamy nugat center. It’s all the other stuff, the crunchy outside. The million little things that have nothing, directly, to do with what the kids are doing, and learning, on stage. It's the reading of twenty plays to find one, the scheduling of limited resources - like, oh, a theater - the eleven or twelve hour days for most of the school year, the daily walks in the dark to the last car in the parking lot.

Most especially, it is the frequent and increasingly long conversations in which my judgment is questioned. This is a natural part of being a director, and I don’t begrudge the questioners.

And I’ve watched myself start to play it safer just to avoid the long emails and meetings required to justify choices. That, in part, is why I ended up choosing and directing the show that I just wrapped. It was a popular success, as was expected. More students auditioned than ever before. We had to add a matinee, we sold more tickets than ever before, and everyone; cast, crew, and audience; seemed to have a good time. But it's fluff. Fluff's okay. And I had no problems. But it didn't really expand any minds or advance theater as an art form. It isn’t the kind of show I dreamed of directing when I was studying educational theater.

Something needs to happen to invigorate the program. That something is either the arrival of an invigorated person to head it, or for me to return, invigorated. But it isn’t me staying.

As expectations in each field have increased tremendously, it is no wonder that the English Teacher / Theater Director animal is virtually extinct, or at least endangered.

So I’m going to concentrate on the English Teacher half, and explore other ways to grow or to be creative.

I was grateful to one colleague who expressed it this way: It takes courage to walk away from something with which you have had success and acclaim. That's a nice way to think about it.

Look, lots of people - most people - have it much worse than me. They work harder and longer for less satisfaction. I am grateful for my opportunities and happiness here. Mr. Neighbor once said to me, when I first met him, "The only people I know who like their jobs are teachers." I'm one of those people. And I certainly have no intention of leaving The School. It's not perfect, but it is an amazing place in countless ways, and it cares the most about the most important things. My whole family is here. We're lucky for that.

And to be clear: My job here as an English teacher is secure. I’ve asked for, and was given, some time off from leading an extra-curricular program. I appreciate that very much. And whether I return to directing or not, I know I’ll be glad I climbed out of the rut to decide.