Ugly ducklings

By Nelly Mejia Marti

  The clock was ticking, at least the one my mind had built and housed inside my head. Drops of sweat running down my face from all the running around and the unbearable heat Santo Domingo has to offer even early in the morning. Parents were coming in, I could see the smiles on their faces. As they kissed their kids to wish them good luck I could only think to myself “Why on earth are you doing this again?”

  “Guys, this month’s project is going to take a lot of hard work, but I am pretty sure you will enjoy it and do a great job,” I found myself saying to my 9th graders. This was, without a doubt, my favorite group, although like parents, one is not supposed to have favorites. I couldn’t really help it, I had them when they were in 7th grade and now, two years later, I had them again and was flabbergasted by the change and growth they had experienced. Back in 7th grade they were certainly not my favorites, although there was a strong connection between us. They were really smart and so funny, but God knows they just wouldn’t behave. Jaime wandered around the classroom nonstop, providing a new excuse every time I would ask what on earth he was doing; Ilsa would ruin my Anastasia Beverly Hills eyebrows by putting her hands on my face as if she were modeling clay. Sergio wouldn’t stop talking to the boys and every time I scolded him, he would wink at me and play suave using his cute accent. It never work for him though. I don’t even want to start talking about Giovanna not being able to enjoy silence and especially not about Raymond and his constant need to talk about sex and try -but fail miserably- to make me feel uncomfortable. Now, two years later, some of them continued to be the sweet hardworking children they had always been, others had blossomed from ugly ducklings to beautiful swans, both physically and mentally. Others continued being the same, but had coated themselves with layers of maturity, others had withered because of the rejection that was inflicted on them, broken by the excruciating pain that sometimes comes along in the process of discovering that not all friendships are meant to last.

  “We are presenting a play and we have five weeks to do it” I said, expecting a quick negative from them that wouldn’t even let me finish my sentence. To my surprise, my words were received with a standing ovation, shrieks of happiness invaded the room. “Miss, I love you” said Angie as she gave me a hug and swiftly took a place in front of the board, marker in hand. “Ok guys, first things first, which one are we doing?” asked Angie in that bossy yet sweet tone of hers. Names of different movies, plays and books were flying in the air like fireworks on the 4th of July. After short discussions and two voting sessions, it had been decided that they were performing Hamlet. Now it was time to divide the class in groups and assign responsibilities according to their preferences and what they considered they were good at. When it was time to choose the actors I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Jaime, who would constantly fail to submit homework, his notebook or any other type of assignment, wanted to be the lead. Jaime had won my heart with his vibrant personality and smart interventions, despite not being what one would consider the best of students and not being able to leave the F word alone. “Are you sure about this?” I asked, with a wide smile, but a worried heart. “Miss Nelly, I am sure. You have nothing to worry about, I would never let you down,” he answered as he winked at me. Although he was a great kid and I saw in him great potential, I wasn’t so sure he would make time to learn his lines, especially during the last month of classes, which is sometimes the hardest.

  “Ok! So the script is ready! Thank you Anna, Angie, Giovanna, Jaime and Enchantress” I said in front of the class the next Monday. “You are more than welcome” replied Enchantress, which was the nickname I had given Ilsa due to her striking resemblance to Cara Delevingne. I was quite surprised by the fact that they had taken the weekend to work on the script when I had promised time for them to do it in my class. Since the script was ready, it was time for auditions. I was dying to see what Jaime had to offer. To my surprise, he had already memorized a couple of lines and when it was his turn, he completely nailed it. The whole class went crazy over his performance! He was, indeed, perfect for the role.

"We are three weeks away people! How are we doing?!" I shouted from the center of the room." As soon as I finished talking the group leaders approached me and showed me their progress reports. Everything seemed to be going great. For the little time I had provided them with, they had made great advancement. It was the first time I had given my students full control of everything and stepped back to watch. Some of them had taken their responsibilities very seriously and some just waited for me to be near to pretend they were doing something. I did my best to let their peers make them reflect on the negative effect it could have on the play instead of doing it myself. It worked perfectly. They seemed to be very committed to doing this right.

We were two weeks away and we hadn't practiced in the auditorium where we were presenting. I noticed at that moment, that I had forgotten to book it in advance and that probably we were not going to be able to practice there. I was right. I only managed to book two double periods but that wasn't enough. That's when I saw staying in the afternoons to practice as my only option. I could already hear their complaints, the negatives and their favorite disrespectful question: "Miss, uté ta locaaaa?!" To my surprise, it was not the case. They immediately created a WhatsApp group to make sure everyone received information pertaining to the play and that everyone could make suggestions and comments throughout the process. Once again I found myself expecting the worst of them, but was slapped in the face with the gentlest yet shocking realization.

During those two weeks we practiced three times a week for periods of one hour and a half. It still wasn't enough. We never got to practice the play nonstop nor were able to time it. The theater teacher changed the light's gels in three different occasions, so the team in charge of the lights would frequently get lost, or wouldn't have the colors they had already set up. Our background fabric was taken down and was nowhere to be found. I saw myself deleting scenes from a script that had already been approved in order to make things easier and shorter. We were two days away from our presentation and everything seemed to be going downhill. I knew it was all my fault. I should have never assigned the project. I only gave them five weeks, forgot to book the theater and had them learning lines in their last weeks of classes.

"Teacher pleaseeee! Let's leave it for Friday instead of Wednesday!" They would all scream in unison as if they were part of a choir. "We can't. The theater won't be available and exams are next week" I answered back. "Listen guys, we either do it tomorrow or we don't do it. I know you guys will pull through and do a great job." I found myself saying without actually meaning it. I could only think of the disaster that would take place on that day.