"The terrain is unpredictable" goes one line of lyrics from this production. If anything, that is the lesson of this past year. I never would have predicted that last year's musical would be cancelled. I never would have predicted that in-person learning could be possible given the pandemic. I never would have predicted that I would be attending this production as a member of the audience instead of as the director.
And it looks as if that is how it will be for the foreseeable future.
For personal reasons, I have to step back from Skull and Bones Drama Club, a club I've spent more time with than I can imagine. I have had much time over the greater portion of this year to think about this new reality. Here is what I've found.
I am sad to vacate my role. Being the director of Skull and Bones is part of my identity. It is part of the joy of my career. It is the reason why I've been so fortunate to make so many meaningful connections with the students who choose to give their time to our theatrical endeavors. Many of my former thespians I now call friends, and it's been an honor to see them graduate college, begin their careers, and even start their own families.
Skull and Bones is my metaphorical baby. When I stepped into this advisership, the group performed two shows per year, hosted no more than 25 students, had no property of its own, and had no formal sets, costumes, crew departments, and its audience was close to nonexistent. The group had no identity. It's name was "Mepham Drama Club"; the original pirate-themed moniker forgotten long ago. It's been a labor of love, but the club grew and learned, and I grew and learned. I did not do this alone. The efforts of dedicated students and generous adults allowed Skull and Bones to manifest into the entity you know it to be today.
Skull and Bones is part of me, a part of my identity—a large part. And now I have to let it go.
But I am happy. Why? Because I have so much to be thankful for.
I am thankful for my colleagues who made and still make Skull and Bones possible. First and foremost, thank you to former principal (and soon-to-be superintendent) Mike Harrington for giving me space to enact my vision and for supporting every wish Skull and Bones had. Thank you to Eric Gómez for allowing me the same freedom to create. Thank you to the rest of the faculty, staff, and administration at Mepham for promoting Skull and Bones and supporting its students. Thank you to Cheryl Fontana for filling a void within Central Administration and for working to give more support to all of BMCHSD's arts programs. Thank you to outgoing superintendent John DeTommaso for recognizing the value of theatre arts programs in the two non-magnet schools.
To the parents who gave their time to assisting with Skull and Bones's operations, I extend my gratitude. Many of you continue to be in my life and have become my extended family. Your generous assistance allowed me to fly, and the friendship you've extended to me is one of my greatest treasures. Thank you to Dina Langer and Ellen Gross for seeing the need for arts boosters and launching FAPA. Thank you to Anne Marie Pioli for convincing me that I don't have to do everything myself. Thank you to Matt Corless, my original parent carpenter, for donating his time and talent to launch Skull and Bones's transformation from club to theatre company. Thanks to Tony Melfa for making us heard. Eternal praise to Vin Bresnaider who took us to entirely new Heights and beyond.
I thank the educators and various directors, choreographers, crewpersons, and fellow performers with whom I've worked. I've incorporated each of them—what they taught me—into every facet of Skull and Bones. Special thanks to Thea Sieban, there with me since the first production, and the invention of the "drive-by costuming."
Thank you to my parents for leading me to theatre, for all the drives to and from rehearsals, for all the trips to Broadway shows, for putting up with showtunes belted in the car, for coming to all of my productions near and far, and for the endless encouragement through it all—especially during this particular leg of my life's journey.
