The Pandemic and the Arts

Yesterday, I got to do something I haven't done since February 2020.  I got to sit in an auditorium and watch a live production.  While the audience was masked and the actors were wearing face shields, it was the closest thing to normal I have seen in quite some time.  

Like all sectors of business, the fine-arts world has been hit hard by the pandemic.  With singing and wind instruments being high-spread risks, choirs have been forced into zoom boxes or stopped altogether; symphonies have been moved online.  Museums have operated with limited capacity, and the lights on Broadway have been darkened for over a year.  

My school had, fortunately, already had its spring play last February.  It was heartbreaking to watch as other schools had to cancel their March and April performances.  It was hard for all involved.  While the focus was on seniors, there were also those who were going to participate in their first play and teachers who had worked hard to train their students, only to have the culmination of that training called off.  When the school year began in the fall, every school was in a different situation.  Some were fully virtual, and plans were made for virtual plays.  Some were in hybrid situations.  Our fall play involved some kids on stage and a few projected on a screen as they participated from home.  There was no live audience; it was streamed online (which involved jumping through legal hoops with the distribution companies).  

During this time, I have watched four virtual productions from Fellowship for the Performing Arts.  This is a great organization that deserves your support, but some of them were better virtually than others.  The Easter Passion was harder for me to watch because I found being sung at by people who are used to singing in a theater is a little overwhelming when it was happening inches from my face.  Virtual musicals may not be for me.  They used greenscreen to produce The Great Divorce, but that's a complicated story that was made confusing because five actors played nine parts.  While I appreciated what they were trying to do, it just didn't work as well on screen as it would on stage.  I truly enjoyed Martin Luther on Trial and Shadowlands because the performances of those actors were stunning, but I can't wait to see them live in the future.  Those incredible performances will only be enhanced by the immersive experience of the darkened room and the set and the shared feelings you only have with an audience.

What I experienced in our school chapel yesterday was something that cannot be experienced virtually - shared emotional response.  When something was funny, we laughed together; and the actors responded to that laughter.  That only happens in a live show.  While you might laugh at your laptop while watching a virtual performance alone in your living room, you won't laugh as hard or as long (and the actors won't know you are laughing and react to it) because laughter is social.  I might cry listening to a sad song on my iPod, but it is not the same experience as an audience being moved to tears by a powerful concert performance.  The feeling that comes from a large group of people being silenced by awe is unlike any feeling I may experience on my own.  

In ancient times, the arts were created for the purpose of social bonding in the village, sharing culture, passing down oral history, and expressing and receiving emotion.  It is still meant for all of those things.  If you can, donate to your local theater, visit a museum in a socially distanced way, support your school's arts programs in some way to keep them going during these times.  Do that for them.  When the pandemic is over, go to a choral performance, a ballet, a musical, a play, or a concert.  Do that for yourself and your sense of community.  

Just For Two

As a yearbook photographer, I am accustomed to documenting great experiences.  From homecoming dances to sports, I have been privileged to record some of the happiest and most meaningful school events.  As an RFK camp photographer, I recognize the meaning of sending kids home with a record of their positive memories. This weekend, I documented an amazing experience.  It was amazing, not because of its large scope, but because of its small scope.  Twenty masked adults came together to create a camp experience for TWO campers.  

This Week's RFK Staff

For those who are not regular readers of this blog, let me back up and explain RFK.  Royal Family Kids, Inc. is an international organization that provides summer camp for abused and neglected children using volunteers that have been trained to meet their needs and create life-changing moments and positive memories.  Normally, this is a five day overnight camp.  Adults arrive on Sunday and transform a basic campground into a vibrant and welcoming place for kids literally overnight.  With bright and happy cabins, a pretty elaborate theatrical stage, a beautifully decorated dining hall, a highly productive woodworking station, and, of course, a fully outfitted pool, nearly 40 kids arrive on a bus to be welcomed by an enthusiastic group of adults that are thrilled to see them.  That enthusiasm is maintained until we say goodbye to them on Friday.

As with all things, COVID-19 prevented us from having anything resembling normal camp.  Our directors tried to create a plan, but there was just no way to make it work with proper distance, and I cannot imagine masks all day outside for five days in mid-July.  Most camps sent kids gifts and notes, calling it "camp in a box," but our directors wanted more for our kids.  They wanted them to have social interaction during this isolating time.  So, they created a "camp experience" for three hours on three Saturdays, allowing campers' parents to choose which location worked for them (as our kids are spread out all over Eastern NC).  The first week, we had 22 kids signed up, but by the time the event came, we were down to 13 due to symptoms or exposure.  Those 13 had a ball, building a wooden crate, hydro dipping cups, playing field games, singing camp songs, learning Romans 8:39, and receiving medals and birthday gifts.  

This week, we were supposed to have 6 kids, but by Thursday, we had heard from four who couldn't come.  We put on the exact same camp experience for them that we had for the 13 last week.  There were 22 people at this event, only two of which were our campers.

I don't know if those two boys went home yesterday saying, "Twenty adults loved me enough to put on the camp just for me."  I hope, in 2030, when we are all looking back on this time, that might be an insight they have.  I hope the photo album they will receive in a few weeks will send that message to them every day.

It's been a few weeks since this education blog was actually about education, so let me make a connection.  School will be starting again in just under a month.  Depending on where you live, some schools will be fully online while others will open partially in person.  Either way, students are going to look to their teachers for tone.  They are going to see us do hard things, whether that is trying to figure out how to form relationships online at the beginning of the school year with kids you've never met or figuring out how to teach your in-person class while also involving those you are streaming to at home.  They are going to watch us work harder than we have ever worked before to do things in ways we have never done them before.  We are going to model learning in ways we could have never imagined before this year.  What I hope they feel from all of that is, "Wow, these people care about me enough to work this hard."  I hope they will recognize how much education matters.  I hope, when they are looking back on this time as adults many years from now, they will say to their children, "You have no idea how much teachers love their students.  I experienced it in 2020."  

Our Common Rival

In sports, there are many rivalries.  Whether it is UNC and Duke, Alabama State and Auburn, or OU and OSU, there are certain teams that you just care about beating more than others.  Friday night, GRACE Christian and Cary Christian set aside their rivalry for one night.  Don't get me wrong.  Both teams still wanted to win their basketball games.  But, that night, they had a common rival, and that was cancer.

In GRACE's eleventh Hoops for Hope (Play for Kay) event, the gym was absolutely packed.  There was a lot of activity.  Cakes were sold in a silent auction.  T-shirts, jewelry, and child-friendly prizes were available for kids to win in games. 

Coffee and snacks were sold in addition to normal concessions.

There was face painting for kids of all ages.

The National Anthem was played and sung.

Funds were raised that resulted in two faculty members getting pies in the face. 

Kids posed in a photo booth. 

Survivors were honored and prayed for. 

And, oh yeah, there were three basketball games. 

The goal was ambitious.  We had hoped to raise ten thousand dollars from one event.  We did not meet that goal.  With the help of our friends at Cary Christian, we crushed it beyond belief.  Just before the final quarter of the last game, it was announced that we had topped FOURTEEN THOUSAND!  We know much good is being done with these funds.  From better patient treatment to clinical research trials, the Kay Yow Fund is committed to keep working with every dollar raised until a cure is found.