Books

By "Janet," a former student of Rafe Esquith's

My heart begins to beat as the lights start to dim and the chattering of students slowly dies down from scattered mumblings to silence. The tiny room is flooded with lights, and I look out into the audience. An eleven-year-old boy walks out onto the stage, or classroom, I should say, to speak the opening lines of his character, Benedict.

My heart starts to beat again quite rapidly as my turn approaches. The crowd laughs and I take it as my cue to step onto the stage. "I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedict: nobody marks you." It is 6:00pm on June 15, 1998, and I have just started my twelfth and final performance of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing.

I was first introduced to Shakespeare when I was nine years old by a teacher, Rafe Esquith, who was famously known at my elementary school for directing a Shakespeare play every year. Not wanting to turn down an opportunity to be in one of his "famous" plays, I immediately said yes when he asked me.

Now I put "famous" in quotes because, at my elementary school, being asked to participate in a Shakespeare play was like being asked to join the cool and exclusive group in school.

The following year I was given the opportunity to be in The Winter's Tale. All the plays were performed in our tiny classroom, Room 56, and on that night of the final performance I could only think to wish that I could stop time.

I wish I could put all the feelings from that evening into a jar and carry it around with me wherever I go, because the emotions in Room 56 that night were full of delight, passion, and energy. Putting together those plays every year not only taught me about Shakespeare, but about teamwork, and humility, and that when one of my fellow classmates was on stage, it was his turn to be in the spotlight, not mine.

I learned how to play many instruments because we incorporated pop songs into many of the scenes. I learned the value of responsibility and hard work, that if I did not have my lines memorized by a specific date, it not only hurt myself, but slowed down the rest of the production.

Who would have thought that one could learn so much just by being in a play? I learned my most valuable lessons during those two years in Room 56, and I treasure all of my experiences that I had in that tiny little classroom.

Hobart Elementary School is located in the heart of downtown L.A., and as I look back at my elementary school years, I think about the horrible environment I grew up in.

There were kids who didn't know how to speak English, even teachers who did not know how to speak English. A rape or abuse case occurred at least once a week at school, and policemen were frequently seen on campus.

Yet during the fifth grade, when I walked into Room 56, everything changed. The world outside disappeared. Instead of gang fights and beggars, my life turned into guitar lessons, road trips, and Shakespearian characters.

My fears and horrors were replaced by happiness and laughter. It became my second home, and my classmates became my family. I did most of my growing up in Room 56, and it molded me into the person I have become.

No matter what else was happening anywhere in the world, all my troubles could be fixed in this safe haven, and I constantly retreated to it when I had family troubles. And even today, when I am looking for a place where there is only love and joy, where anger and hatred do not exist, I still retreat to Room 56.

Written at Notre Dame University

Reprinted by arrangement with Viking, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., from Teach Like Your Hair's On Fire Copyright (c) Rafe Esquith, 2007.