Story Slams Hit You Where You're Human

I'd like for you all to meet Massmouth.

Massmouth produces story slams (similar to poetry slams) in and around the Boston area. These are at once competitions and celebrations of storytelling. There are ten contestants, selected from volunteers (names in a hat usually) in a mix of veteran and fledgling storytellers. There are guidelines to adhere to (time limit, theme) and the focus is on the story, not the personality of the storyteller. Anyone can win and in the last five months several newcomers have won.

Storytelling is not just for children. It's not just for experienced or professional storytellers -- it's for all of us. We all tell ourselves - and others - stories about ourselves, our families, our lives and decide what they mean to us. An event that focuses on Story enlivens this process for us, supporting the expansion and choice of meaning in our lives. Story is at the base of everything. The Slams are great fun, there is a wonderful sense of community and opportunities for the more courageous audience members to participate as well. In these days of high-tech living there is something truly magical in a live performance.

I've gone several times as a spectator. Then Norah Dooley, who had been my Shakespeare student last fall, invited me to be a judge - Chief Justice of the Cambridge Slam Court, to be precise. Learning their guidelines and what makes a good story helped me step outside my comfort zone and see the world in a different way. I had a blast, especially at the Valentine's Day slam. The theme was "The Errors of Eros" and since it was my first Valentine's Day as a "singleton" I found it very therapeutic to be with my friends and laugh at love.

The picture, above, is me (center) with the some of the other judges at Ryles in Cambridge on February 14th.

I highly recommend visiting Massmouth's webpage - they have info on the upcoming events and videos of past performances. I have a special interest in the next show on the 15th since Norah is one of the cohosts. Here is a link to check out her webpage: Norah Dooley.

Noticing Ebb & Flow, New Cheese and In Praise of Former Students

Everything changes.

At this point, I've lost a total of four students -- all for good and proper reasons, like out of town moves and schedules. Tonight I have another one down with a sprained ankle. The weather's a bit dicey, but that by itself is not a problem. But, combining that with all the other issues, I have cancelled class for tonight.

I see that it would be easy to go a little crazy at this point. Losing students is usually considered "bad" from the business point of view. However, I recognize that the world (probably the Universe itself) is built on a rhythm of ebb and flow -- tide in/tide out, breathe in/breathe out, increase/decrease. Cycles. We humans are definitely not OK with change, as a species - have you read Who Moved My Cheese anyone? But change, inevitably, happens. The issue is not to avoid it, or to be afraid of it, the issue is to recognize that this is part of the universal rhythm and what it really means.

My weekly class grew out of a Shakespeare class I taught at Brookline Adult and Continuing Education last fall. When the class ended, many of the students wanted to keep going. So we just kept it going at one of the student's (actually two students, because it was one of two married couples in the class) house, once a week.

I can see that my class has been a good stepping stone for the students who have moved on. The very first one, Norah Dooley, from my semester at Brookline Adult and Continuing Ed, went on to a TV internship that conflicted with class. You may have heard of her - she is one of the founders of Massmouth and organizes the storytelling slams (similar to poetry slams) in the Boston and Cambridge area and has a busy performing schedule. She is also a published writer. Let's be blunt here: she is the Renaissance woman.

I can admit this freely now - I've even told her - I was actually a bit afraid of Norah when she turned up in my class. (OK, I was freakin' terrified!) She is an accomplished performer, well known in the Boston area and beyond. If she'd chosen to, she could have given me a very hard time and challenged me at every point. I know this because I've had a couple of students who have - they take a class to prove it wrong. Instead, she totally jumped into the class, participating full-out and became my strongest ally. Her interpretation of Lady Anne in the "courtship" scene from Richard III was fierce! Unlike the many I've seen who play Anne as a fragile weepy victim, Norah took a fresh take on the part, playing her with passion and outrage that gave Richard III a run for his money.

Another student was from the business world and had a tremendous breakthrough in self-expression. He's now back in his busy life of international meetings and clients, expressing his vision with more passion. The third was a young scientist, originally from China. She took my class to improve her English (after all, if you can do Shakespeare, you can pretty much do anything!) and made huge strides. All her friends, she told me, were jealous of her verbal improvement. For the record, she did not start incorporating archaic language into her daily life. Instead, the demands of Shakespeare trained her speech to a higher level of fluency in regular English. She's moving to Seattle to join her fiance.

My most recent departing student is Norah's husband, Robert Fairchild. Robert's theatrical passion is Improv and he is a seasoned performer. By his own admission, scripted acting was never his favorite, but he still brought a tremendous willingness to explore to our class. In the semester at BACE, he called us all to battle as Henry V (we would have followed him in a heartbeat!) and, with our Asian student as a delightful Ariel, he plotted vengeance as Prospero. We didn't know at the time that last week's class would be his last, but I'd say he went out on a win, with a blood-curdling interpretation of Marc Antony's "Cry Havoc" monologue.

I refuse to say this is "bad". I actually think it's pretty great. These four people played full-out in class, had their breakthroughs and are now on to new challenges. I have grown from working with them and now they are on to new dreams. I also know that they are no longer my students, they are my friends for life.

Toni Stone, of Wonderworks in Vermont, says "You get what you say you are getting." So I say that their leaving, although a bit sad, makes room for new students to come in. And if the freelance class does end, that just means the space is open for the next adventure.

I can't wait to see the good that comes out of this.