Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Although I can’t remember my 9th grade English teacher’s name, I can recall quite clearly the sharp angles of her painted-on eyebrows. More importantly, I remember the painstaking way she illuminated Romeo & Juliet for us. Playing a cassette recording as we followed along in the book, she stopped the tape after each page to translate what just happened. It turned out the play wasn’t just a jumble of unintelligible words but a story! An exciting story! The whole experience was a revelation for me, like the time I got glasses and was astonished to discover that the leaves on trees had distinct shapes.
My oldest daughter is now in 9th grade and reading Romeo & Juliet in school, which dredged up all the above nostalgia. Her theater class recently held a voluntary monologue competition, selecting & performing work from Shakespeare’s plays. Of course, I thought she performed a brilliant Helena from Midsummer Night’s Dream.
I keep hearing how public school morale is at an all-time low for both students and teachers, how prolonged quarantine has hurt kids and how teachers are at a breaking point previously unfathomed. Basically, a broken system is hanging by sinew and a generation is on the brink of educational ruin. Among other world problems.
But watching so many students perform these ancient lines with passion and flair was moving and heartening—like, if kids these days still have a voluntary interest in tackling Shakespeare, maybe the world is going to be okay?
I, for one, sincerely look forward to reading about their 9th-grade Shakespearian nostalgia in 30 years (probably on futuristic microchips we’ll have implanted in our eyeballs).
Cheers,
Lacy
I love your optimism and happy to hear the kids were enthusiastic about Shakespeare. Great shirt!! (And I so relate to your experience of getting glasses! 😄)