Friday evening, I completed my fifth year as a UIL one act play adjudicator. It’s hard to believe that five years have gone by so quickly. That is, until I remember just how fast the seventeen years went by that I spent as a UIL one act play director. As I reflect on those years, I recall so many memories, lessons learned, triumphs (small and large), and a few disappointments along the way. But most of all, it is the love I’ve felt, known, and to this day cherish that has endured. I still love teaching theatre and working with other artists. I still love working with students I have the privilege of adjudicating at contests and working with at clinics. I still love hearing from and keeping up with my former students and colleagues. And I still love theatre. That doesn’t mean that every day is perfect. There are times when it is exhausting, stressful and difficult. There are usually a few bumps in the road. Some years, the entire road seems to be filled with potholes that make the journey difficult! Yet, we carry on. I believe it is because we love what we do. Real love bears, believes, hopes and endures all of the obstacles we encounter along the way, so we must have real love to spend so much time and effort on our jobs as directors of theatre.
If you are a Biblical scholar, you might recognize a little of 1 Corinthians 13 in the statement above. Whatever your faith, you can probably agree with me that we don’t teach theatre because of the salary. Yes, having a little time in the summer and holidays off are nice, but we pack one year’s worth of work (plus) in each school year. We do it because it is an adventure. It provides us with learning experiences, gives us an outlet for our creative side, and teaches us lessons about ourselves. I am grateful for all of those lessons, one of which I will share. This is just one reason why I love what I do.
When my students went to state the first time, I learned one of the most valuable lessons in my life. I was a worrier. It’s a horrible thing to be a worrier because you never have a sense of peace. One act play taught me that I could not be a worrier and still enjoy the blessings of the day. It was 1999, my seventh year to direct UIL OAP. We advanced from region, and we were thrilled! We were going to perform at Bass Concert Hall! Being the planner and worrier that I was, I began to plot out every detail of our trip. What I didn’t take into account was that the UIL set at UT was built differently than every UIL set we had ever seen or used. During our official rehearsal, the site crew told us we could not stack the unit set the way we had been stacking it. It wasn’t stable when using their platforms. Now, I had watched the state meet contest for several years, and did not make note of that difference. How could I have missed that? I remember thinking that this is probably the only time I would ever have students advance to the state meet, and I had not prepared them for something as simple as this set issue. I internalized this “mistake”, telling myself I should have known better. We made adjustments, but the time it took to make them cost us a lot of tech rehearsal time. My wonderful light technician did not have time to set all of the light cues after the adjustments to our set were made. I felt I had failed her. We got through the rehearsal, got into the dressing room, and after speaking briefly with the students, I excused myself. I went to a stairwell and lost it, tears (and mascara) flowing down my cheeks. I felt so horrible that my students’ state experience might be ruined because I didn’t prepare them for the issue that cost us so much time in our forty-five minute tech rehearsal. I worried so much for them. Were they going to be standing in the dark during some of their scenes since we didn’t get to set all of our light cues? How would they handle these issues? Why didn’t I prepare for this? If only I had been more attentive as I watched the state meet in previous years my students wouldn’t have to go through this! The more I worried, the worse I felt. My friend and co-director, Kim Hines, found me in the stairwell and talked me into giving up my pity party. Our students went on to have their best performance ever….and placed THIRD at state! All of my worry did not change anything. It just made me miserable. The saving grace was the love we had for our students, and the love my students had for their production and for each other. They persevered. It was their love that was able to bear, believe, hope, and endure. It taught me that I needed to focus on love and not on worrying. When I worried, I was operating from a viewpoint of trying to control everything, and when I couldn’t, I felt I had failed. I learned to operate from a viewpoint of bearing the circumstances given to me, believing that I can get through it, hoping for everything to come together, and enduring it all. I wasted part of my first state experience worrying about something that didn’t happen. I didn’t let that happen the second, third, fourth, or fifth times my students performed at the state UIL meet.
This year at each directors’ meeting I made a point of telling directors to please do their best to relax and enjoy the day with their students. I said, “As I look back on my contest experiences with my former students, I don’t wish I had worried more. Instead, I wish I had enjoyed it more.” The reactions were the same at each directors’ meeting this year….nervous laughter. I don’t think I’m the only one that’s ever worried my way through a UIL OAP contest day. Fortunately, the lesson was learned. Now, I worry a lot less. I savor a lot more. I love that OAP taught me that life lesson, a lesson that has found its way into other areas of my life. Our experiences in OAP teach us great lessons if we are just willing to learn.
Here are a few other observations of love and life lessons taught through OAP that are just too wonderful not to share……
- I just adjudicated a region contest where the stage manager of the site crew and another site crew worker had actually met on the stage of the contest site five years earlier. They began dating because of meeting through OAP all those years ago. Last week, he proposed to her on that very same stage. She said yes!
- At the same contest, I met one of the competing schools’ superintendent after I completed my critiques. He was beaming with pride. His former student was the director of one of the shows advancing to state.
- My friend and Maestro partner, Renee Buchannan, was at the same contest as a spectator. After the awards ceremony, we spoke briefly. It was then I found out the director of the alternate play to state was her former student. It was her OAP directing debut. Renee was so proud of her!
- At that same contest, one of the advancing play directors was congratulated by her best friend ….who also advanced to state in a different conference just days prior.
- And, at this same contest, I watched students from six competing schools dance, hug, and celebrate the region contest prior to the awards ceremony as someone from the site crew served as their DJ.
And so, on that day and into the evening, memories were made. Lessons were learned. I witnessed triumphs, great and small, and disappointments, too. But most of all, I witnessed love. The UIL OAP experience is as good of a story as the tales we tell on the stage. Sometimes, maybe better.
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