Ode To The Drama Teacher
And as you stand there: Aghast
Because we’re three days from Opening Night and
Ado Annie still doesn’t know her lines and
The Dream Ballet is a Nightmare and
The Light Board Op just got Detention…
Let us now praise You.
You, the Permanently Fatigued.
You, the Loyal-to-the-Point-of-Self-Neglect.
You, the Keeper of a Thousand-and-Eleventeen Secret Dreams.
You are the one who makes it all Look So Easy.
Who would have expected that the most important Skill you learned getting your BA
Was Juggling?
Juggling Paperwork and Personalities and oh, right – weren’t you supposed to have a
Private Life around here somewhere?
But even though you are Sick to Death of
Spoon River Anthology
You still puddle up every time you hear
There’s A Place For Us
No matter how Off-Key.
And while you still remember when you
Brought the House Down in
Midsummer
You now love This House.
You have created a House where any child – no matter how Flamboyant, no matter how Shy –
Can embrace their Inner Ethel Merman (and thanks to those English 101 classes you now must teach, you are keenly aware that using “their” in the previous sentence is increasingly considered correct and honestly, it’s really the only sensible answer as writing “his or her” is as damaging to poetry as the participle that dangles.)
And you have created a House where any child – no matter how Flamboyant, no matter how Shy – can dive straight to the Deepest, Darkest, Quietest corner of human suffering and bring a room of teenagers – and yes, you, too – to silent tears.
You have made a Home for the Misunderstood
A Family for the Misfit and a
Safe Spot to land no matter how bad The Mid-Terms are.
Because despite all the Budget Cuts and The Paperwork and
The Meetings about the Meeting to Schedule the Meetings and
The Truancies and The Parents
Dear God The Parents and
Did we mention The Paperwork?
Nothing on this Green Earth compares to watching a group of kids
Learn the true meaning of Ensemble.
And nothing compares to the pure joy of watching The Ones whom you knew would Eventually Get It
Finally. Really. Get It.
And nothing nothing nothing compares to The Confidences shared in low tones as they seek you out in
Your Office,
The Choir Room
The Front Seat of the Van on the way home from Fullerton.
You aren’t teaching Drama.
You are teaching Life
Which we all know is a Comedy – a Chekhovian Comedy – but a Comedy nonetheless.
And you aren’t teaching Choreography
You are teaching them to Dance.
And you aren’t teaching them how to be a Character.
You are teaching them how to be Themselves.
So here’s to you –
Making room for Art in a world that seems to have no room for Art.
(Because, by the way, that room has been re-purposed as the new Standardized Test Prep Center – you don’t mind rehearsing outside, do you?)
And here’s to you –
Scrounging around for new shows that somehow match the sets you already have
Because some Genius on the School Board has
Recently Announced that not only can you not perform Huckleberry Finn
Or Anouilh’s Antigone (probably because he couldn’t pronounce it) and
Given the flap over theScene from M. Butterfly last year, I guess
March of the Falsettos and The Vagina Monologues are
Out of the Question for the Spring
So Oh Dear God it looks like it’s going to be
Arsenic And Old Lace one more blessed time.
But that’s OK
I love Arsenic And Old Lace.
So here’s to you –
Making room for Another Coffee Mug with
Those Damn Masks on them
Making room in the Chorus for
Just One More
And
Making room for Each and Every Child
To Be
A
Star.
© 2011 Samantha Bennett
If you would like to share or reprint this poem, I’d be honored. Please be sure to credit me properly by including my full name and website address (© 2011 Samantha Bennett, https://theorganizedartistcompany.com).
I am not exaggerating when I say that I owe my very life to the teachers, coaches and camp counselors (yes, I went to theatre camp – Camp Harand, anyone?) who taught me how to act and, in the process, taught me how to live.
This past October I was delighted to be asked to present two days worth of workshops for CETA (California Educational Theatre Association: http://www.cetoweb.org) at their annual retreat at Asilomar, CA. We had a blast. To honor them and the extraordinary work of teachers everywhere, I wrote this poem.
Poem – Ode To The Drama Teacher
And as you stand there: Aghast
Because we’re three days from Opening Night and
Ado Annie still doesn’t know her lines and
The Dream Ballet is a Nightmare and
The Light Board Op just got Detention…
Let us now praise You.
You, the Permanently Fatigued.
You, the Loyal-to-the-Point-of-Self-Neglect.
You, the Keeper of a Thousand-and-Eleventeen Secret Dreams.
You are the one who makes it all Look So Easy.
Who would have expected that the most important Skill you learned getting your BA
Was Juggling?
Juggling Paperwork and Personalities and oh, right – weren’t you supposed to have a
Private Life around here somewhere?
But even though you are Sick to Death of
Spoon River Anthology
You still puddle up every time you hear
There’s A Place For Us
No matter how Off-Key.
And while you still remember when you
Brought the House Down in
Midsummer
You now love This House.
You have created a House where any child – no matter how Flamboyant, no matter how Shy –
Can embrace their Inner Ethel Merman (and thanks to those English 101 classes you now must teach, you are keenly aware that using “their” in the previous sentence is increasingly considered correct and honestly, it’s really the only sensible answer as writing “his or her” is as damaging to poetry as the participle that dangles.)
And you have created a House where any child – no matter how Flamboyant, no matter how Shy – can dive straight to the Deepest, Darkest, Quietest corner of human suffering and bring a room of teenagers – and yes, you, too – to silent tears.
You have made a Home for the Misunderstood
A Family for the Misfit and a
Safe Spot to land no matter how bad The Mid-Terms are.
Because despite all the Budget Cuts and
The Paperwork and
The Meetings about the Meeting to Schedule the Meetings and
The Truancies and
The Parents
Dear God The Parents and
Did we mention The Paperwork?
Nothing on this Green Earth compares to watching a group of kids
Learn the true meaning of Ensemble.
And nothing compares to the pure joy of watching The Ones whom you knew would Eventually Get It
Finally. Really. Get It.
And nothing nothing nothing compares to The Confidences shared in low tones as they seek you out in
Your Office,
The Choir Room
The Front Seat of the Van on the way home from Fullerton.
You aren’t teaching Drama.
You are teaching Life
Which we all know is a Comedy – a Chekhovian Comedy – but a Comedy nonetheless.
And you aren’t teaching Choreography
You are teaching them to Dance.
And you aren’t teaching them how to be a Character.
You are teaching them how to be Themselves.
So here’s to you –
Making room for Art in a world that seems to have no room for Art.
(Because, by the way, that room has been repurposed as the new Standardized Test Prep Center – you don’t mind rehearsing outside, do you?)
And here’s to you –
Scrounging around for new shows that somehow match the sets you already have
Because some Genius on the School Board has
Recently Announced that not only can you not perform Huckleberry Finn
Or Anouilh’s Antigone (probably because he couldn’t pronounce it) and
Given the flap over theScene from M. Butterfly last year, I guess
March of the Falsettos and The Vagina Monologues are
Out of the Question for the Spring
So Oh Dear God it looks like it’s going to be
Arsenic And Old Lace one more blessed time.
But that’s OK
I love Arsenic And Old Lace.
So here’s to you –
Making room for Another Coffee Mug with
Those Damn Masks on them
Making room in the Chorus for
Just One More
And
Making room for Each and Every Child
To Be
A
Star.
© 2011 Samantha Bennett
If you would like to share or reprint this poem, I’d be honored. Please include my full name and website address (https://therealsambennett.com) and here is a bio you might want to include –
About the author: Samantha Bennett is a working actor and writer based in Los Angeles, and she’s the creator of https://therealsambennett.com, an organization dedicated to helping creative people get unstuck from whatever way they’re stuck, especially by helping them focus and move forward on their goals.
Poem – Ode To The Drama Teacher
And as you stand there: Aghast
Because we’re three days from Opening Night and
Ado Annie still doesn’t know her lines and
The Dream Ballet is a Nightmare and
The Light Board Op just got Detention…
Let us now praise You.
You, the Permanently Fatigued.
You, the Loyal-to-the-Point-of-Self-Neglect.
You, the Keeper of a Thousand-and-Eleventeen Secret Dreams.
You are the one who makes it all Look So Easy.
Who would have expected that the most important Skill you learned getting your BA
Was Juggling?
Juggling Paperwork and Personalities and oh, right – weren’t you supposed to have a
Private Life around here somewhere?
But even though you are Sick to Death of
Spoon River Anthology
You still puddle up every time you hear
There’s A Place For Us
No matter how Off-Key.
And while you still remember when you Brought the House Down in
Midsummer
You now love This House.
You have created a House where any child – no matter how Flamboyant, no matter how Shy –
Can embrace their Inner Ethel Merman (and thanks to those English 101 classes you now must teach, you are keenly aware that using “their” in the previous sentence is increasingly considered correct and honestly, it’s really the only sensible answer as writing “his or her” is as damaging to poetry as the participle that dangles.)
And you have created a House where any child – no matter how Flamboyant, no matter how Shy – can dive straight to the Deepest, Darkest, Quietest corner of human suffering and bring a room of teenagers – and yes, you, too – to silent tears.
You have made a Home for the Misunderstood
A Family for the Misfit and a
Safe Spot to land no matter how bad The Mid-Terms are.
Because despite all the Budget Cuts and
The Paperwork and
The Meetings about the Meeting to Schedule the Meetings and
The Truancies and
The Parents
Dear God The Parents and
Did we mention The Paperwork?
Nothing on this Green Earth compares to watching a group of kids
Learn the true meaning of Ensemble.
And nothing compares to the pure joy of watching The Ones whom you knew would Eventually Get It
Finally. Really. Get It.
And nothing nothing nothing compares to The Confidences shared in low tones as they seek you out in Your Office,
The Choir Room
The Front Seat of the Van on the way home from Fullerton.
You aren’t teaching Drama.
You are teaching Life
Which we all know is a Comedy – a Chekhovian Comedy – but a Comedy nonetheless.
And you aren’t teaching Choreography
You are teaching them to Dance.
And you aren’t teaching them how to be a Character.
You are teaching them how to be Themselves.
So here’s to you –
Making room for Art in a world that seems to have no room for Art.
(Because, by the way, that room has been repurposed as the new Standardized Test Prep Center – you don’t mind rehearsing outside, do you?)
And here’s to you –
Scrounging around for new shows that somehow match the sets you already have
Because some Genius on the School Board has
Recently Announced that not only can you not perform Huckleberry Finn
Or Anouilh’s Antigone (probably because he couldn’t pronounce it) and
Given the flap over the
Scene from M. Butterfly last year, I guess
March of the Falsettos and The Vagina Monologues are
Out of the Question for the Spring
So Oh Dear God it looks like it’s going to be
Arsenic And Old Lace one more blessed time.
But that’s OK
I love Arsenic And Old Lace.
So here’s to you –
Making room for another Coffee Mug with those damn masks on them
Making room in the Chorus for Just One More
And
Making room for each and every child
To Be
A
Star.
© 2011 Samantha Bennett
Created especially for the CETA (California Educational Theatre Association) Conference, Asilomar, CA, October 21-23, 2011
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11×17 and laminated – perfect for the office, backstage, rehearsal room or classroom!
Interested in obtaining permission to reprint content from this site?
Email Us: Samantha_Bennett@TheOrganizedArtistCompany.com
Apologies are to be reserved for times when you have transgressed and are truly sorry.
But for times when you are, in fact, not sorry, consider this strategy: don’t apologize; say, “Thank you.”
I got this advice from my friend Adam and it took a while to sink in for me. But once I realized it was a fabulous alternative to mealy-mouthing, I started to really enjoy using it.
So rather than saying, “I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you, ” consider saying, “Thank you for being patient.”
Rather than saying, “I’m sorry I can’t do XYZ,” consider saying, “Thank you for understanding that X, Y and Z are not possible for me right now.”
And rather than saying, “I’m sorry to bother you with this,” try, “Thank you so much for being available for this.”
For me, this technique solves the problem of feeling like I need to apologize when I’m not really sorry – as we all know, an insincere apology is one of the ickiest communications possible – and it allows me to focus on the good, positive aspects of the situation.
In short: inspired gratitude beats feigned servitude every single time.
You all might remember Audrey from the other day – she wrote me this:
“Hi Samantha!
I am on your email list and receive your beautiful poems and ideas.
I just wanted to thank you cause those emails have been inspiring for me.
I recently wrote something for my boyfriend that I titled: In Praise of The Stressed Worker inspired by your poems and that was the only way I could reach his heart. Everything else didn’t work but that poem that I did more for me in honor of him really spoke to him.
So thank you for the inspiration and also for all the love and understanding of others.
thank you, Audrey”
I had a request to publish her piece and she graciously agreed, writing,
“Hi Samantha!
You can for sure put it on your blog, I would be happy that you do because I really feel your beautiful mission and you indeed influence me to write but also helped me understand and accept my dad after the grumpy poem..:)
Thank you for asking. Audrey :)”
English is not Audrey’s first language, which I think really adds to the cadence and lilt of her writing.
It’s a pretty long piece, so here’s just the first stanza:
In Praise of the Stressed Worker
You sit there looking at your phone
Texting about work again
Even if you are supposed to be off
You got so used to that rhythm,
You know hotels by heart, eat out almost all the time, getting around pretty good. Sometimes you are craving for somebody to make you some nice comfort food.
You got so used to that rhythm, that sometimes you wonder what you would do if you had more time. Though, there is a list of things you aspire to do but you’re too busy right now. Maybe later.
You’re family guy with a big heart even if you can’t stand being around them too long.
And they all admire you and love you and care about you….
So now here’s my question for you: who in your life needs YOU to write them a poem? Will you do it?