Don't Forget! I'm a Thane!

Banquo crumpled at my feet this morning. His murderers giggled a little, embarrassed at having stabbed him with plastic knives, but stopped when no one else laughed. Banquo didn't move. His body lay in a curved heap, his vacant eyes staring into space. His son Fleance watched from a safe distance. And then, the scene was over.

Currently, I have the privilege of introducing a class of 4th, 5th, and 6th graders to Shakespeare. More specifically, Macbeth. I'm not teaching a class or rehearsing kids for a performance; I just show up once a week for 45 minutes and we act out some scenes together. The students do not have a clear idea of what will happen from one scene to the next. They are throwing themselves into the play, eager to find out who ends up alive at the end.

I started this project last week by walking into the classroom and complaining that "a weird thing just happened when I came through the doorway. We just went back in time 400 years." I bowed to their teacher, addressed him as King James, and explained: "I am Master Will Shakespeare. The manager of our theatre--oh my gosh, there he is! Master Henslowe! [I slapped an adhesive name badge on a student]--well, Master Henslowe has asked me to write a play to honor your Scottish heritage." I then turned to the "acting company" and began handing out parts [more adhesive nametags] and explaining the relationships among characters: "You're King Duncan and these are your two sons. You're Macbeth and this is your wife." We plunged right into "rehearsal," using a rug in the center of the classroom as our stage.

The kids read their parts for the first time while "on stage." We stop now and then to redo a scene or talk about what a particular line might mean. We're using an abridged version of Macbeth that I created. I'm quite sure they could grasp the original language if we spent time on it because my own kids performed full-length unedited plays with the Young Shakespeare Players starting at age seven. But there isn't time to do that with this group and the story is exciting in itself. The script follows the plot closely but uses a mixture of paraphrase and Shakespearean language. There is, thankfully, no modern equivalent for "Double, double, toil and trouble...".

The best part about this whole thing is the short conversation we have as a group at the end of a session. Last week we got as far as Macbeth and Lady Macbeth discussing the idea of murdering King Duncan. I asked, "What do you think happens next?" The answers ranged from "I think Macbeth will kill the king" to "I think his wife will kill the king" to "I think Macbeth might kill his wife!" This morning I asked, "Who is more responsible for the death of the king--Macbeth or Lady Macbeth?" Opinions varied. Some thought Lady Macbeth was guiltier because "it was her idea." Another said, "Macbeth, because he actually did it. He didn't have to do what she told him to do. He had a choice." I changed the moral dilemma to something closer to their experience. "Holly, let's say Brennan told you to push Daryus off the climber outside because it would be funny. So you do it and Daryus falls and gets hurt. Who is to blame? You? Or Brennan?" Holly thought for a minute. "We both are."

That is the beauty of genius. Shakespeare is as relevant to the playground as to the playhouse.

Speaking of the playground, after last week's introduction to Act 1, a boy named Evan came up to me, quite concerned, to report that he had lost his "Ross" nametag. I told him not to worry, that I would bring new nametags this week. His face lit up. "Great!" he said. As he walked away, Evan called out: "Don't forget! I'm a Thane!"

Trust me. I won't forget.