From the Archives: Personal History

I wrote this for my Theatre and Community class my first semester in grad school: September of 2008. I just reread it for the first time in probably 7 years and was struck by so many things. I work with kids like this every day now.

I wonder where Tyshawn is today. He'll be 17 in July.

***

          I graduated from UC Berkeley in June of 2005 and moved to New York City that same month with the dream to start a theater company. By the end of that summer, not only had I not started a theater company but I didn’t even have a job. I spent four painful, ego-shattering months pounding the pavement and being confounded by the fact that a Bachelor’s degree from one of the best universities in the country didn’t guarantee me gainful employment. Needless to say, New York City was not the city of bright lights and theater dreams come true that I expected it to be.

            After nailing down a job at a non-profit sexual health organization and falling into two production management gigs, I suffered from serious theater burn-out and subsequently took a year off, wondering if I really wanted to pursue a career in the arts.  By the spring of 2007, I had been at my dead-end day job for a bit more than a year, making little money, and dealing with a creative and moral depression that crippled me. On a suggestion, I decided to pursue volunteering and discovered a music project for children, ages 6-14, at a shelter on the Lower East Side. I had never worked with or overseen children and was panicked that I’d feel steamrolled by them.  However, I figured that volunteering twice a month wasn’t a very big time commitment, and I found encouragement in the subject matter, music being another serious passion of mine. It seemed a potentially ideal project, fulfilling a creative hunger I hadn’t been able to satisfy since graduating.

            My first day as a volunteer, I met a nine-year-old boy named Tyshawn. I sat down next to him and asked him his name, feeling slightly self-conscious and not really knowing what to expect. He was enthusiastic and hilarious and we spent the day working together. We went around the circle and told everyone our names and what our favorite kind of music was, pairing it with a gesture and sound that indicated that music style. When the project leader asked if anyone could recite each person’s name and repeat each person’s gesture, Tyshawn didn’t volunteer. However, when we took a break, he did it perfectly on his own.

The leader of the project had been a musical theater student and injected each class with opportunities for the children to be the centers of attention, to tap into their creativity in a very accessible and non-threatening way. This became an essential part of the project every week we gathered, and I continued to enforce it when I became a co-leader of the project in June. We set a high standard for participation in the class, asking our volunteers to work closely with the children to create songs, dances, or poems that they rehearsed and presented to the rest of the group.

            Tyshawn and I spent three weeks working as a duo. I learned that he liked writing. That he had a baby sister and an older brother. That he was turning 10 in July. I learned that I had a natural gift with kids. That they gravitated toward me, seemed to respect me, responded to me in a way that felt really special. I had fun with them; I learned from them; I was moved by them. It was an epiphany.

Summer holidays interrupted our bi-monthly meetings and I hadn’t seen Tyshawn for a couple weeks when I arrived at the shelter one week and discovered that the project had been cancelled that day. As I turned up the street to head back to the subway, Tyshawn was crossing. He saw me and bolted across, throwing his arms around me and yelling my name. I nearly burst into tears, realizing that I really had connected with him over the previous weeks. He dragged me back across the street and insisted I meet his mother, who wasn’t much older than I was and who was preoccupied with a baby in a stroller and having just lost her contact lens. She also didn’t seem to have any idea who I was, but Tyshawn introduced me as his “favorite teacher” anyway. The shelter was a transitional living situation for female victims of domestic abuse. Soon after this meeting on the street, Tyshawn stopped coming to class, and I can only hope that means he and his family found a more permanent living situation somewhere else.

 I co-led this project for almost six months before moving back to California where I prepared to enter grad school. Over the months, we introduced the kids to blues and rock n’roll; we sang Christmas carols with them; we tried to teach them about rhythm and rhyme. Every week, we led an introduction game, made a craft, broke up into groups and had them create pieces to perform at the end of the night. Every week, it was evident how important these gatherings were. I didn’t know anything about what these children’s lives were like outside our meetings, but I could tell their recreation time was important and special for them. They were being creative in ways I knew were different from what they were used to. They were working together in ways I knew were different from what they were used to, and they were being led by caring and patient adults in ways that I knew were different from what they were used to. Even more powerfully, they were working with young men who paid close attention to them, listened to them, and were gentle with them.

 Working with these children was educational to me in ways that I’m not sure I’ll be able to fully articulate until I have some more experience under my belt. They being the first children I ever worked with combined with the vulnerability and potency of their situations made the work such a heady and emotional experience. It planted the seed for my ultimate goal as a theatre teacher and artist: to establish an organization that will allow populations of children a creative outlet that they don’t have in any other capacity. Theatre, with its tenets of collaboration and expression, seems an essential medium for urban children, arguably our most vulnerable community. I want to foster the enthusiasm I saw in Tyshawn with kids just like him, and I hope he is somewhere continuing to express himself as he was able to do with us.

Music Explorers, vol. XII, the final volume

Oh, how time flies. It's already December 5, which means tonight was the night I said goodbye to this project, which feels like an entire chapter of my life.

Our plan tonight didn't differ too greatly from last week, except it was a Holiday Edition. We started with the 19 kids (to 9 volunteers) making nametags on paper shaped like ornaments. Stickers, people. The key is stickers. Those kids went BATTY for them.

Then, we set them up in groups and divided the "Twelve Days of Christmas" verses among them and sang it through a couple times, with everyone having a moment to shine by singing their verse and doing a movement that went with their number. Too hilarious, especially because the version we sang along to seems to have been the Muppets.

That part of the agenda ended up taking up a lot of time, so we reviewed "Jingle Bells" and "Deck the Halls" and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," so they all could bellow at the top of their lungs, mostly. Their assignment again was to perform their own versions of one of these songs, to be judged American Idol-style.

There was some inspired choreography, some impressive solos, but the winning group was the one who performed a "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" and "Feliz Navidad" remix. 'Nuff said.

During snack, I thanked all the kids for having taught me so much and told them they could really do whatever they set their minds to. At least they were quiet while I talked; that's about as much as I could have ever wished for.

I come away from this project with confidence that I've picked the right career path, despite all the frustrations, head- and footaches. This has been an absolutely invaluable experience. I hope one or two of the children I've met in the last 7 months reflects on it in the same way, someday.

Music Explorers, vol. XI

Tonight, I'm proud to announce, was a great success! We split the kids into groups and had them decorate their nametags. It's always slightly hilarious to watch how determined they are to spell their own names and precisely decorate--one little girl came in late and didn't recognize her name in block letters, then slowly and deliberately drew "hearts" on the back of her nametag. (They weren't really hearts, but she sure was working hard.)

Then, we introduced the kids to Rock N Roll, starting by teaching them dance moves: the jerk, the monkey, the swim and backstroke, the twist, the bird, and the mashed potato. They LOVED it, all writhing and shaking to "Rock Around the Clock." I took a few minutes to go over some of the history of the genre, as quickly and painlessly as possible. I dare say, I think they may have even enjoyed the lesson.

Finally, they were broken into groups to adapt, sing, and/or dance to "Great Balls of Fire" or "Rock Around the Clock," and the night culminated with performances that were judged by me and the two Henry Street employees, a la American Idol. These performances ranged from inappropriate pelvic thrusts and muttered "Goodness gracious, great balls on fire," to one girl who'd memorized the verse, to a version of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" set to "Great Balls of Fire." We even picked a winner--the group who performed with the greatest gusto.

It's amazing how quickly things can change in one day. I was extremely sad that next week is my last session with the kids. I've learned so much, had so much fun, and this is sort of the first of many endings to come. It's certainly bittersweet.

Music Explorers, vol. X

I keep starting these posts with sentences like..."Today I was a stresscase" and "tonight was hard," but...Tonight was tough. We keep getting large, antsy groups of kids and hoping against all hope that they'll get something from our frenzied lessons. The fact is, we're really good at being flexible, and tonight we basically threw our plan out the window.

We started with a craft--making headbands with 3 feathers, on which they had to write 3 things they were thankful for. This was pretty much the only part of the night that went swimmingly. The kids were eager and creative and were thankful for a varied range of things: from Mom and Auntie to baseball and chicken nuggets.

I was hoping to have them master my notorious Cup Game. (Many of you have played it with me.) I think with a small group, we would have been able to conquer it, but they couldn't get the rhythm down, even though they all REALLY loved making noise together.

Then, we attempted to introduce them to Rounds and all sang Row, Row, Row Your Boat...with the intention of also teaching them Frere Jacques (in French and English) and then breaking them into groups to perform their own versions of the rounds as a final project. Of course, somehow that turned into WHO CAN SCREAM THIS SONG THE LOUDEST?! We got them to do a round as a group at least.

Then we got up and let them dance. I think they just needed to not be sitting for so long.

Lessons learned.

At the end of the evening, we always provide the kids with a snack. I bought them cider, in honor of the season and because it had been a hit one time before. One boy took a sip, then went "Blehhhhh. It tastes like mop!"

I was, at once, irritated by his rudeness and impressed with his creativity.

Music Explorers, vol. IX, the Halloween Edition

Today, I was a stresscase. A combination of feeling unprepared for volunteering (sometimes emails aren't that effective, and that's the only way my co-leader and I plan), having 3 hours of meetings at the end of the day, needing to run errands for the evening beforehand, and anticipating seeing both parents tomorrow, left me anxious for the evening's lesson.

Then, we ended up with 19 kids for 5 volunteers, and those kids love to yammer. Boy, do they ever.

The biggest thing I've learned working on this project is how to stay flexible. My co-leader and I have to always be ready to change our plans because we see different kids every week and also work with different volunteers. We had an initial plan to dress up, make masks, sing and dance this week. We ended up scrapping the arts and crafts part and focused instead on learning the lyrics of and a dance to Michaels Jackson's "Thriller."

But first, we played a rousing game of musical chairs, where the person who misses a chair has to go around and name everyone. If he/she gets them all right, he/she can pick someone else to leave the circle. If he/she gets them wrong, he/she is out. (How PC of me.)

Then, I went over the first 2 verses and chorus of Thriller. We listened first, then read along to a beat, then sang it through a couple times. It was hilarious.

My co-leader masterminded a dance for the chorus, and we threw it all together, complete with an introduction of spooky sounds: witches cackling, doors creaking, zombies groaning, cats meowing, and ghosts booing. They creeped in, making their sounds, then danced the chorus.

It was a spectacle.

Next time, I think we're going to focus on singing--probably Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Is that how that's spelled?

Music Explorers, vol. VIII

So my co-leader and I entered today's session with a strategy: occupy the adults, make sure they're all really prepared, play a game with the kids as they filter in so we're not all affected by them as they sweep in, then start the lesson when everyone has arrived. We've been competing with a performance group that gathers in the park, and kids haven't been rounded up until after 7 some weeks, which just doesn't allow much work between 630 and when everyone has finally arrived.

It was a strategy we were really confident in, but I showed up at 6 to 12 kids, which of course meant we had to shift our plans. Everything worked out well, nonetheless, but it was interesting that we had planned for things to be much more difficult than they ended up being.

We started with a name game, something we'll probably stick to every week so we can all learn everyone's name. We all stood in a circle and threw a ball of yarn around, saying the name of the person who threw the ball and the name of the person then being throwing to. It was a hit, not to mention helpful.

Then, I asked how many of them knew the ABCs, Twinkle, Twinkle, and Baa, Baa Black Sheep. (Of course, the point is they're all the same song.) I was able to prove that by having half the kids sing one song while the other half sang the other. One of the kids, who hadn't quite understood the concept, was SO excited as he discovered the point. My co-leader introduced them to On Top of Ol'Smokey/Spaghetti as another example of two songs with the same melody.

They're assignment for the night was to write their own songs, to either melody. My brilliant example was (sung to the ABCs):
Hi, my name is Annie [not printing my last name here]
Last year, I was 23.
This June, I turned 24.
Next year, I'll be even more.
Hi, my name is Annie...
Last year, I was 23.

The kids were broken into groups to write their own and then performed them, like the stars they are.

A group of boys came up with this:
Old man, old man, look at you.
[Something, something, something] shoe. (Sorry, I forget)
He fell down, his teeth fell out,
Now he cannot eat his sprouts.
Old man, old man, look at you
[Something, something, something] shoe.

And one very prolific girl wrote:
On top of the TV
Is the remote.
Oh no, I can't reach it.
My back is broke...
and then 2 more verses.

Next week, we're doing a country-themed, Halloween project, where they'll have bandannas and paper hats, learn a song and line dance. Should be a hell of a time.

Music Explorers, vol. VII

Last night was hard. Kids streamed in, unattended, unnoticed. I didn't know any of their names. We got through our agenda ok (a brief dance routine, the orchestra game--where they all made animal sounds, and a story rap), but the volunteers, for the most part, were apprehensive and less than enthusiastic.

The main obstacle on this project is that the employees of the organization where we're working don't help us. They gossip and make noise and generally disrupt. And they are technically in charge, so there's not much we can do...

The main thing, though, is that we learned a lot last night. About how to iron out the kinks of the project, in general. We're going to do ice breakers with the adults, make sure they understand our agenda really well. Then, we'll always start with a game, during which it doesn't matter if kids stream in. We're also pushing back the class by 15 minutes, so we don't compete too much with activities in the nearby park.

I'll try not to be too discouraged. I suppose it's all a major learning experience.

i love my kids

Nothing like a little agenda-planning for next week's volunteering to get the ol' inspired juices flowing.

How exciting!

Music Explorers, vol. VI

I was so excited about tonight because I was in charge of a whole section of the evening. The volunteers trickled in and I gave them all the planned agenda. It was nice to notice how confident I've become in presenting the ideas and my philosophies about this project. It's totally a new niche for me.

We had about 10 kids tonight, some of whom I recognized and some of whom were new. We started with a story game, to reinforce the rhyming we'd covered last time. Then I had my big debut, where I presented these lyrics from OutKast's fabulous song, B.O.B.

In-slum-national, underground
Thunder pounds when I stomp the ground (Woo!)
Like a million elephants and silverback orangutans
You can't stop a train
Who want some? Don't come un-pre-pared
I'll be there, but when I leave there
Better be a household name
Weather man tellin' us it ain't gon' rain
So now we sittin' in a drop-top, soaking wet
In a silk suit, tryin' not to sweat
Hits somersaults without the net
But this'll be the year that we won't forget

I wanted the kids to keep the beat, but that didn't go over so well, so I did it to a Casio beat. And I was a huge hit. Then we reviewed which words in the song rhymed. The harder part was getting them to understand the metered writing. So my Co-Leader suggested we just take the last 4 lines. I kept the beat and we all repeated it together several times. Then, a couple brave kids got up and of course did it perfectly. It's always so magical when you think they're not understanding and then they prove you wrong.

Their goal for the evening was to write at least 4 metered rhyming lines. We had 2 kids to each volunteer, and I had the best time walking around and peeking over hard-working shoulders. I cannot get over how talented these kids are.

Crystal, 9, wrote
Today I went to the park
I heard a dog bark
I went home to take a shower
I went out to see the twin towers
I went home to watch TV
I was eating cream cheese

Amaney, 6, wrote
Today I went to the park
But it was too dark
I took something to eat
I had a sandwich with meat

Samson, Moises (who was freaked out in the beginning because he can't read yet), and Tommy (a volunteer) wrote
Samson and Moises woke up today
Samson ate blueberries, Moises wanted to play
Samson went to a party, it was fun
Then he took a shower and had to run

I was very impressed. And I think I counted 4 hugs goodbye tonight.

Next time, they'll write their own words over "On Top of Old Smokey." I want them to write blues songs at some point too.

Music Explorers, vol. V

I was especially excited about tonight's project because we were going to have the kids write their own raps. It was something that had been mentioned the first night as an offer so kids would come back, and I convinced my co-leader to follow through with the plan.

We started by reinforcing what rhyme was, and all the kids (only 6 of them tonight) enthusiastically yelled out some easy rhymes, when we brought up words. Then we all went around the table and introduced ourselves and something we like that rhymes with it. I like my friend Danny. (I figured I couldn't mention my fanny.)

Then we broke down "Hey Diddle Diddle" and "Hickory Dickory Dock," had the kids point out the rhyming words and established the difference between reading them and reading them to a beat. My co-leader also wanted to introduce a bit of coordination, so we stood in a circle and did hilarious variations on the step-touch. Kids are funny.

And brilliant. When we brought up the creative task of the night, they all jumped in head first. We assigned them to write at least a 4 line "rap," using rhyme, beats, and writing about their favorite hobbies. And then each and every one of them got up and performed them by themselves. This part of it is a bit of a triumph because we have witnessed some crippling shyness from a lot of kids--they do well in a group and then when they're singled out, they clam up. Perhaps it was the smallness of the crowd and the enthusiastic support of us and the volunteers, but they all did SO well. And honestly wrote raps with less self-consciousness and angst than any of the grown-ups.

Here's mine:
"I act and write/Don't like to fight/And I watch my TV each night.
Annie's my name/Teaching's my game/One day I'd like to have riches and fame."

Next week, the plan is to challenge them a little more and expand on their growing knowledge of rhythm and rhyme by teaching them about accented and unaccented syllables. I'm very excited.

Music Explorers, vol. IV

Last night was my inaugural music project as a team leader. I was mostly excited but slightly nervous. I think the biggest thing I've learned, in the last 2 sessions I've spent with kids this age (6-12), is that it's really always an exercise in improvisation. My co-team leader and I had a pretty set plan because our last session was cancelled. We were going to attempt to teach the kids a little bit about rhythm and notation.

The focus game we tried to play basically crashed and burned. Then, we helped them make little shakers with which they would keep the 4/4 rhythm we introduced. (Note to self: Keep children away from dried beans or anything that they can make noise with. Especially kazoos.) Finally, my co-leader started in on the content of the session, introducing whole notes, half notes, and quarter notes, as a start. From the looks and sounds of them, they weren't interested and weren't retaining anything. But, of course, when we had them create their own 4-beat measures and play them by themselves, nearly all of them got it. We were astounded. I introduced the concept of syncopation but decided delving into it too much might just bore/confuse them further.

All in all, it was a pretty successful night, barring our fairly reserved volunteers (only 4 of them) and the fact that we had too many kids for me to give them the Juicy Juice I bought. (16 juice boxes for 17 kids=no one gets any.) By the end of the night, I was pretty exhausted and decided to drink 4 lychee martinis.

Now I'm hungover.

fanfare for my 100th post

I was pissed yesterday because we have weekly lab meetings at work, which is when birthdays are usually celebrated. And since my birthday is tomorrow, I assumed they'd "surprise" me at the end of the meeting with cake or chips or whatever. It didn't happen, and my heart sank because I've somehow become the facilitator for other people's birthday celebrations and I was sure that would go unappreciated.

I didn't even think about it today, especially after an exhausting evening of alcohol and food for my roommate's birthday and little sleep followed by going to work, and I just planned on leaving early and returning to my bed. I got convinced to walk outside for a smoke break and noticed that a little party had converged for me outside where we eat. I nearly burst into tears. I forget that people can surprise me.

In other news, I've agreed to co-team lead the music project I've been working with for a few weeks. I was hesitant because I didn't want to step on the current team leader's toes, but apparently she's very excited about it.

And finally...in light of my impending 24th birthday, I'd like you all to seriously contemplate the following term: "birthday suit." Isn't that hilarious??

Music Explorers, vol. III

Unfortunately, tonight's project had to be cancelled because of a date mix-up between New York Cares and Henry Street Settlement. But, as I crossed the street to continue my walk back to the F train, I saw my little buddy TyShawn. His eyes lit up, he gasped, and he ran across the street to give me a big hug. We chatted for a second, and he reintroduced me to his friend Kouani, whom I remembered from the first day of music exploration. TyShawn yammered excitedly, quoting the game we'd played the first day. Then he insisted on introducing me to his mom, who didn't seem to have any idea who I was or what I did.

Still, I nearly cried about it.

Team Leading, what what!!

After a very relaxed "interview," which basically consisted of me asking a couple questions and talking about my management skills, I received confirmation that I would be brought on board with New York Cares as a Team Leader! Easy peasy!

The way it works is there are weekly lists of projects in need of leaders. I've already looked at one, on which none of the projects interested me, but there are talks about launching a drama project, and hopefully I can be included in that. It's also a possibility I'll be able to co-team lead the music project I've been working on.

It's all very exciting. And I walked home smiling at everyone and everyone smiled back. It was kind of magical.

Now, if I could only figure out what the hell to eat for dinner tonight.

Music Explores, vol. II

Today was one of those days in NYC where you walk outside and feel dirty right away because the humidity is already bad. And the streets smell like garbage. I was kind of jet-lagged, after sleeping in until 10 and then it taking almost an hour and a half to get uptown for the second half of my day at work.

After a strange afternoon of running around, catching up on work emails, a lab meeting, and not being able to use my work computer because it was being updated, I headed to the Lower East Side for another night of volunteering. The game plan was to teach the kids solfege and the scale, which seemed slightly arbitrary to me, especially since it included singing Do Re Mi, from the Sound of Music, with them. But whatever. When I become a Team Leader, I can do things differently. (I have an interview next Friday, just for that.)

I found out tonight that this project is linked up with shelter kids. That these kids actually live in the housing development where we meet. Tyshawn was already there when I got there. He seemed slightly subdued at the beginning of the evening, but maybe that's because he was the lone kid in a room of female volunteers for the first part of the night. It was just two kids for about 20 minutes and then...they kept flooding in.

Anyway, I seem to have a knack for working with them after all. I kept Tyshawn and another little boy, Keith, focused and gave them encouragement that they could memorize the scale, backwards and forwards. Keith sat down next to me and nearly shouted that he wanted me to be the one to help him. Tyshawn was just as enthusiastic. Our assigned line of Do Re Mi was "Ray, a drop of golden sun," and the boys screamed it each time it was our turn to sing. By the end of the night, I got big hugs goodbye.

I couldn't help but think that these are the kind of kids that don't really get much of a chance to be kids. And yet, here they were, singing a Broadway song and begging for cookies.

And on the train ride home, I saw a little boy singing to himself, "T makes the sound t, t, t. Everybody sing it, t, t, t." Kids are magical.

Painting with Portraits of Hope

This is how I will be spending my Saturday afternoon. I'm so excited to get my hands dirty.

Music Explorers

Tonight I spent 2 hours volunteering with New York Cares and worked on a project called Music Explorers with Henry Street Settlement. I didn't quite know what to expect and the crappy rainy weather and long walk on the Lower East Side all made me nervous. (Oh, that, and that I got a text from a cute boy I met over the weekend.)

There were about 8 of us volunteers and maybe 10-12 kids all together. The Team Leader was a feisty, musical theater nerd who brought her Casio keyboard. Today was just an introduction day. We made ourselves nametags and talked about our favorite types of music. The kid I paired up with was an 8-year-old named Tyshawn. He wrote his name very carefully and then drew a picture of 50 Cent because his favorite music is rap. Then I asked him if he'd save it forever and the Team Leader compelled me to autograph it...which seemed to endlessly excite Tyshawn, who boasted it about it to the rest of the group. I said it'd be worth a lot of money one day and he said he would never sell it. Too sweet.

The majority of the time spent today involved each of us going around and saying our names and the type of music we liked best (with a gesture) and then repeating the others' information around the circle, like a memory game. Tyshawn popped his hood, and I pretended to play piano because I couldn't decide what my favorite type of music was but I do love that instrument. Tyshawn caught on super fast, asked lots of questions, sang along, remembered everyone's name and danced around. Somehow I had paired up with the most outgoing kid there! It was inspiring.

We chatted at downtime. He has 7 brothers and sisters. His birthday is June 12, 1998(!); his favorite food is pizza and his favorite subject is writing. I told him I liked to write too. He writes about his family, and the last thing he wrote about them was that "his mom makes him happy when he's sad."

When I left, I went up to him to say goodbye, and he called after me before I left the room. I will definitely go back. Next week, I think the Leader will have the kids write their own raps.