Showing posts with label Giggle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Giggle. Show all posts

Saturday, July 19, 2014

To Thine Own Self Be True


The guy likes Shakespeare.
I've told you that before...over here.
He walks around with a beat up MacBeth book in his hand and yes, he has huge chunks of it memorized.
For his birthday, his wise and thoughtful aunt got him a similar version of Hamlet.
It's called Shakespeare Made Easy.
On the left hand side of the page is the original text.  
On the right hand side is the translation or an easier version.


So, he's been walking around for a few weeks with Hamlet in hand...in restaurants, carrying it to speech,  thrown into my bike basket.  I had a friend who saw him in the waiting room at speech reading Hamlet come up to me and kind of ask out loud if this was real.

Did he like Hamlet?

YES.
He does...really.
As soon as she thought it was real, she turned to Patrick and started to dish...
who was his favorite character?  
What did he think of Hamlet?
We had stumbled onto another lover of the British playwright.

I think that as a way to diffuse, explode and crack away the myth that people with Down Syndrome are stupid, we should just have them carry around some texts of Shakespeare.
It blows people's minds.

Like looking in a fun house mirror they just aren't sure of what they see.

We like to place people in tiny, little, immovable boxes.
It's more comfortable that way...
but sometimes they don't fit in.

Sometimes the stereotype cracks.
People have to stop and rethink certain givens that they've trusted their whole life.
And if they stop and rethink that one, who knows, maybe there are a whole bunch of other certainties that just aren't that certain any more.
Powerful stuff.

But only if you're given the chance...
only if the opportunity is seized.




So, we took a chance and signed Patrick up with other teen-age Shakespeare fans for a two week camp.
It was all day long with typical kids and real actors and directors who are staging some Shakespeare for a festival in our town.
He got up each day energized and excited to go...but wouldn't tell us too much.
He didn't get the script for Much Ado About Nothing until midweek of the second week.

What had they been up to all this time??

Patrick got the part of Benedick for Act I and Don Pedro for Act II.
That, right there, was something he'd never considered before...
he fiddled with that idea, resisted it for a few days, but gradually came to know that you could play two parts.

The play of Much Ado About Nothing was going to be presented on Friday, 
just two days after getting the script.
Patrick began memorizing, repeating and rehearsing in his room...
but he didn't have enough time.
Thursday night he was worried.
He was used to knowing his lines (and everybody else's) -- he couldn't believe he wouldn't be ready.
But the joy of being a part of the play and a part of this group motivated him to accept the truth and just use the script when needed.

So today at 3pm, Caroline and I showed up for a little Shakespeare.
I'm always on pins and needles at things like this...you just never know how it's going to go.

But this was a group who shared a passion.
A group where he spoke the language.
A group where he belonged.
He didn't have to earn his way in...he just had to love Shakespeare and that was good enough.

The little play was a whole lot more...it had improv, movement, singing some explanation of who Shakespeare was as a person...and yes the entirety of 
Much Ado About Nothing.

Patrick was a part of everything.
Before my very eyes I watched a metamorphosis of unsure junior high kid into full high schooler...
confident and true to himself.

I was teary thinking of my friends with young children with Down Syndrome who continue to be denied entrance into this world of acceptance and inclusion.
If only those naysayers could have seen the improv!

I'm so grateful to a group of actors who have created a sanctuary for kids who love Shakespeare and allowed each teen the freedom to come as you are and take away all that you can.

For costumes for the show the kids were supposed to wear black.
We missed the memo.

Patrick came home the night before the show and created the costume he thought would work.
It wasn't black...
but I got no last minute phone call...
no rescuing the situation...
no tweaking or freaking out.

It didn't matter.
No one seemed to care, 
and the production went off without a hitch...

so refreshing.

Shakespeare with a chill pill.

And after the play came this quote,  "You can go now.  I'll meet you at home."
Full teen.

Tonight, I am grateful to the Davis Shakespeare Ensemble.
I'm grateful to this group of actors, directors and musicians who share their passion and work to make Shakespeare come alive.
Grateful for their hard work and ability to engage with teens of all sorts.
I'm grateful to live in a town that is accepting and tolerant and inclusive.
I'm grateful to an 8th grade teacher who taught Shakespeare to an entire group of middle schoolers, never dumbing it down or diluting it, thrilling them with the action and the language...
and lighting a fire.

Most especially, I am grateful to the Bard of Avon...
the witty, the insightful, the tragic and comic Shakespeare...
who has touched the heart and soul of my son hundreds of years later.

There's no doubt that Shakespeare has shaped my son...who would have guessed?


Monday, February 24, 2014

Practice Kindness, Choose Happiness



I have this exact image and quote on my cupboard...staring at me everyday...
reminding me...prodding me...challenging me.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever get to see this man in person, 
but today I did.

I had the joy of witnessing the Dalai Lama's effusive, kind, tender-hearted presence at Santa Clara University.

Wow!

My first take away from him was his ability to transcend time.
He had all the time in the world for every person.
No rushing.
Nothing but complete care and acceptance of the moment.
Every person was someone sacred.
Every moment mattered.

I know this man is called His Holiness by all sorts of people and I wonder:
is it a chicken or the egg kind of thing?
If you call someone holy do they rise to the occasion?

What would happen if we started thinking of ourselves as holy?
Would we pursue mindfulness and meditation and compassion so zealously that it would become real?
I wanna try that experiment on myself.
I'll keep you posted. :)

My second take away was the way he spoke about his mother.
He is the youngest child in his family. He felt his mom gave him nothing but affection.
He talked about how she would put him up on her shoulders and work in the fields and just enjoy his presence.  
He mentioned that there are seven billion people in the world and that all of them need this level of a mother's affection. 
His quote: "We need a special effort to build the feeling of affection for people who do not have it so therefore warm-heartedness or affection is very very important and an obligation."
 He wondered what our world would look like if everyone was given this affection.
It's a good question.
And also a good reminder.  
We all need affection and compassion, every day, all the time.  
No one earns it.

His biggest message was that compassion and kindness must be taught.
We must start with the littlest children and very carefully and intentionally teach this and then gradually move to the older children and keep at it...demonstrating kindess and compassion daily.

He maintains that the more compassionate mind = the more calm mind -- which creates more self-confidence, inner strength and less stress.
He reminded us of something that we intuitively know but never consciously think about:
self-centered = more stress
"Compassion brings inner peace and mental comfort."

Finally, he spent the last few minutes almost talking to himself.
He told each of us that we needed to go inward and know our conviction for ourselves.
We need our faith to be part of our life and part of our decision making.  It is only with this inner conviction that we can withstand the changing forces of our life and the confusing moral ambiguities of our time. He pounded his heart several times very forcefully, making his point...go inward and know yourself, your convictions, your priorities. 
In a nutshell: live an authentic life.

His giggle is what will linger in my mind the most.
All of the adversity he has faced...all of his own life lessons and at 78 he has a lot...have led him to be full of joy and ready to giggle.
His energy is contagious.

The event had a group of young children singing...their angelic voices filled the arena.
Their school's mission statement:
practice kindness, choose happiness

That's enough.
Let's do it.