Issue #65
“-And we believe
our lives become
the stories that we weave.”
-From the musical Once On This Island
Dear Reader,
Did you know that origin stories aren’t just for superheroes? We all have origin stories that inform who we’ve become in our various jobs and relationships. And the stories don’t stop at a certain age. I’m firmly in the second half of my forties and I feel like I’m living another origin story that will shape the next decades of my life.
This year I began teaching theater again after a long break. It’s good to step into that role again but it’s also caused me to look at that part of myself with fresh eyes. Who am I as a teacher? Is my teaching style formed by the teachers who once taught me?
When I was in high school I had a theater teacher who often yelled, made me cry more than once and was, without a doubt, the best teacher I ever had. If I made a child cry in my classroom, I can promise you I would no longer have a job. And yet, with all of her quirks, my teacher left a lasting impression on me that I can still feel thirty years later.
As I look back on the teachers who have influenced this vocation I realize there is more to the story than simply being a student of theater who eventually began to teach. Before I introduce you to my beloved but scary high school teacher, let me start with the soft-spoken teacher from early elementary.
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Mrs. Senhausen was my second grade teacher. I don’t remember anything about her class except story time. Every afternoon Mrs. S would settle her generous curves into her reading chair while we gathered on the carpet in a semi-circle around her. Then she would ask for volunteers to give her a back rub while she read stories out loud. Sometimes it was a picture book, like the always-in-trouble Amelia Bedelia, and sometimes it was one chapter from a longer book. Most days I fell asleep before story time ended but it didn’t stop the magic of the stories from seeping in.
My mom asked me via text recently: “Have you always loved reading as long as you can remember?”
My answer for her then was the same as my answer for you now.
Yes, I’ve always loved reading because in the second grade my teacher gave me the gift of stories.
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Mrs. Griffith was my fifth grade teacher. I’m sure she taught us other subjects but I can only remember the assignments we did for Creative Writing. Every week we had to write a story using all of the vocabulary words for that week. She didn’t pick typical fifth grade words for her list either, one of our words that year was “triskaidekaphobia” (fear of the number thirteen). Week by week I discovered the power of words. In my young mind, I clearly demonstrated that power in a short story I wrote and illustrated for her called The Hypnotical Dragon Slayer.
Mrs. Griffith taught me the delight of fitting just the right word into a sentence, like putting a piece in a puzzle. She exposed me to the satisfaction that came when the pieces eventually transformed into one cohesive story. If Mrs. Senhausen introduced me to stories, Mrs. Griffith gave me the words to write my own.
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Dr. Beger, or “Doc” for short, was my theater teacher from tenth to twelfth grade. Whereas Mrs. Senhausen had soft lines and a kind voice and Mrs. Griffith had been encouraging while still challenging her students, Dr. B’s students were afraid of her. Students tended to scurry out of her way when she moved forcefully down the hall in a frumpy skirt and blouse. I was warned about her on my first day after transferring from another school.
After a while I discovered that her intensity came from her passion for theater. Doc taught us like we were sophomores in college instead of sophomores in high school. In the two and half years I was her student, she taught me more about theater than I learned in four years as a theater major in college.
I learned the origins of theater, how theater changed throughout history, how it was used in society to make a difference. I learned how to analyze plays as an actor and as a director. Earning a laugh from her during a scene performance or a compliment afterward meant something because she didn’t give them out without good reason.
When she directed Shakespeare in the Park, I sat beside her during rehearsals and wrote down her notes. Afterward, she would send me off to share the notes with the actors who were two and three times my age. Gaining her respect and trust was better than any letter grade on a report card.
As I started writing this post, I typed Dr. Beger’s name into Google search and I came across the following story from one of her students:
‘She (Doc) walked in and stood at the center of the room, looking at us. “What is the most important thing we can do in theater?” she asked. The answers varied everywhere, things like “entertain people” and “dress up like funny characters.” After she got sick of saying “no” for the twenty-seventh time, she quietly put her folder down on a chair and stared at us again…She picked up a dry erase marker and began to write three words that changed my life: tell the story. There was something special about hearing that from her. We, as theater artists, should all know that. It meant something more coming from her because it stemmed from an immense amount of passion.”’
-Bradley Akers
Doc was passionate about theater and demanded a lot from her students but she gave even more back. She gave me the knowledge and experience I needed to tell stories as an actor and a director.
In many ways her gifts built upon the lessons I learned early on from my elementary school teachers. First I fell in love with stories, then I fell in love with words and finally, I fell in love with sharing stories through the unique craft of theater. Thirty years later, I laugh easily with my students and they don’t quake when they hear my footsteps. My methods may look different than my former teacher but I’m still using the passion and tools Doc gave me to teach them the most important part: how to tell the story.
What about you? What kind of teachers left an impression on you? If you look back, do you have an origin story for a job or role you now carry out in your adult life?
In Case You Missed It
Here’s a post I wrote last month about gathering the courage to get back into teaching theater again.
Blessings from the Guest Nest,
-Aimee
Thanks so much for reading, sharing, and contributing to the conversation. You can support my art and writing by donating to my art supply fund and by sharing this newsletter with friends who might enjoy it.
What a beautiful journey for you. I loved reading about the teachers that influenced and shaped you. And what an experience to watch your theater teacher direct Shakespeare!
My own teachers that shaped me the most were also the ones who demanded the most from their students. In fact, many of my peers disliked those teachers as much as I liked them!
I have so much to say about this that I might have to do my own post! Love that you’ve got me thinking.