Adventures in High School Speech

Had the opportunity to watch upperclassmen perform a piece in the same category my freshmen are entered in.  I'm satisfied that my freshmen are better than the upperclassmen.  The piece is better, the execution is better, and the kids don't appear to be more talented.  They did a much better performance on Wednesday afternoon, I wish I'd thought to tape it, but they'll go to State with it, so I'll record their next rehearsal.  

I have my doubts about the other set of freshmen.  Judged as freshmen, I think they'd advance, but they aren't.  If we have two tough judges, they won't go, it'll get called out for being simplistic and kind of messy, because it's a hard piece.  The kids have come a long way, all of them have shown fantastic growth as performers, but it's a fluff comedy piece that doesn't show off the skills they aren't old enough to've acquired yet.  I thought we'd build a bunch of wacky stuff and get them working as a tight ensemble, in order to hide their lackluster physical comedy skills, but we didn't have time to do it that way.  

Still, when I was a freshman, the event I was in advanced to state.  I think it may've even gotten one ratings at state, and it was genuinely terrible.  Our set was a table, two chairs and a hideous potted plant and possibly a door, and we all played animals that had been transformed into humans.  I had to play a snake.  And tap dance.  Do you know how much it sucks to tap dance as a snake?  When you can't tap dance?  When you're 14 and convinced that you look every single bit as stupid as you feel you do?  

So I share my sympathies with these poor kids who don't want to look like idiots.  But it's taken me 16 years to learn that failure to commit is the best way to make sure you look like an idiot, and maybe it'll only take another 10 more before I remember to commit all the way all the time as a performer.  Right about now, in my life, I would be an excellent high school actor.  

Contest is Saturday. We'll see.