A Midsummer Night's Nightmare

After 20 years since I had become a Teacher I was once more feeling that my career choice was worthwhile. I have spent the past fifteen years since my recovery wondering if I had made a wise choice, of sticking it out when my heart was wanting to give it all up and let me slink off into the underbrush of life, never to be seen again. This anticipation of this year, this class, had revived the enthusiasm with which I ventured forth to my first teaching job.

It was a large country high school halfway between Sydney and nowhere, and I, newly graduated, was the new addition to the English department.

"Welcome my boy." He was a bluff man, Henry Rawlings, the Principal of this school. Large in stature and personality, he ruled the students and teachers alike with a sort of benevolent despotism. His word was law, but at the same it was not always draconian. "Have you had any experience with drama?" He looked up from my dossier with the answer to his question already known.

"Yes I've had some experience at high school and Uni."

"Good, good." He stopped speaking, his face told me that he was deep in thought, but I got the impression that what he had to say next was already prepared. "Part of your duties will be to produce a play, not just any play, but Shakespeare, in your case, 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.' Whether you produce an up-dated version, or a traditional production, is entirely your decision, but if you want to travel down the traditional path, by all means do that. I am giving you free rein to produce something spectacular. It's for our annual drama night. There is one stipulation. . ."

"And what might that be?"

"When you are casting, you do not need to audition for the role of Titania, I have the perfect student for the role, Saskia Lewis."

"Oh, so she has had acting experience?"

"No, not that I am aware of. This is non-negotiable."

I guess that, in my enthusiasm for my new job, I was deaf to the warning bells.

"Come, I'll introduce you to the English faculty." He strode out of his office leaving me with no option but to follow. Any thought of walking beside him was lost in the speed with which he swept down the corridor. He thrust open a door and I followed him inside to be greeted by several teachers seated around a large table strewn with papers. "Ladies, gentlemen, let me introduce you to . . ." He snapped his fingers at me in some sort of signal telling me that he had more important things to remember than my name.

"Dylan, Dylan Smith. . ."

"Thank you. Dylan Smith. This is his first posting so be gentle with him." With that he turned on his heels and exited the room.

"Ah, fresh meat for the slaughter house." Not the most encouraging of introductions I would have thought.

"Pay no attention to Bruce, he's been around far too long but refuses to retire. He'll probably die on the job, leaving nothing behind but the memories of his cynicism. I'm Maureen Roberts, and you saved me from spending another year as the youngest teacher on the staff. I suppose that Henry has already lumbered you with producing the Shakespearean play this year. Which one has he chosen?"

"He's chosen 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. He told me that I had free rein and I'm not limited to the traditional interpretation, I guess that's a plus."

"Don't you believe it. What will happen is that he will wait until the dress rehearsal before he tells you that it has to be done in the traditional way, or not at all." Maureen said. "Last year it was my turn, I thought that I'd do a modern interpretation of Romeo and Juliet, you know modern clothes and stuff like that. We even modernised the script. You can only imagine my panic when he told me that it wasn't to go ahead unless I changed everything back to the 'proper version', as he put it. I came so close to telling him to stick his play right up his fat arse, but then I realised that my chances of getting another job, with the reference that he'd give me, were somewhat south of a snowball's chance in hell."

"He's told me that I needn't audition for Titania."

"Who has he chosen? Wait, let me guess, that precious little princess Saskia Lewis?"

"Good guess. I don't like the idea of being told who I can and can't cast in this production."

"Good luck with her, you'll need it." Bruce cut into our conversation. "I had her in her first year, and I gave her an 'F' for an assignment. If I could have given it a 'G' I would have, a pile of excrement disguised as an essay. Daddy complained to Henry, and I was ordered to give her an 'A+'. Henry has been sucking up to Daddy Dearest ever since she started here, and Daddy has obliged with several substantial donations to school projects."

"I hope she can act." I said, almost under my breath.

"If throwing a tantrum is required, you'll have no problems with her, it's got that way that none of the teachers want her in their classes. If you ask her a question and she gives the wrong answer, and you have the unmitigated gall to tell her so, her hissy fit acting skills come to the fore." Bryan said. Bryan was another of the teachers who had experienced the full force of her disapproval.

"When's the next train out?" I asked.

"I hope that you're joking, if you leave here you can kiss your career good-bye."

"Then I'll just have to grin and bear it. Wish me luck, I have a class in five minutes."

"Do you want us to call an ambulance now or can we wait until one's necessary?" Bruce asked.

"I sincerely hope that this is all a part of some weird initiation ritual that you go through with all the new teachers."

"There's only one way to find out."

My first period with the senior class was a learning experience for me as well as the students. "Good morning, my name is Mister Smith, in class you will address me as such, away from school you may address me as Mister Smith. . ." I had to cut in before the class smart arse had a chance to respond. "No, seriously, outside the school environment you may call me Dylan. In this class you will behave as serious students, you will give me your clear and undivided attention, and I will give you the benefit of my knowledge on the subject of English."

"That'll take five minutes, what do we do with the rest of the time?" Matthew MacIntyre, known to all as ''da Boss'', and the student that I'd been warned about, smirked and looked at his fellow students to gauge their reactions. There were self conscious smiles from most of them, as if they were supposed to go along with his interruption, but were unsure of my reaction. They were waiting to see how I would react.

"So you're Matthew MacIntyre, ''da Boss'' I've been told, I am fully aware that your attention span rarely exceeds five minutes, unless the topic is Mathew MacIntyre that is, so I am prepared to make allowances for that. I will teach this class as if you do not exist on the understanding that, as far as you are concerned, I do not exist. From time to time you may pick up snippets of knowledge that will assist you in your chosen career of working in Daddy's farm machinery business, where your lack of education will go un-noticed. Should you, at some time in the nebulous future, aspire to gain further knowledge, feel free to join us. That goes for everyone else in this class, I encourage you to participate, ask questions, comment on what is being taught, and on the rare occasions when I make a mistake, correct me." I paused to wait for the expected outburst. For some reason it didn't happen, under the expectant gaze of the majority of the class, he remained silent.

I was now on my guard. From experience I had found that the best way to counter bullies was to show them that you weren't afraid of them, no matter how hard it was to conceal your fear, and believe me there had been times when my anal sphincter was pulsating at a rate of knots. (Okay, I know this is a mixed metaphor and 'knots' refers to speed over water, but in this context it refers to very fast). I had also come to realise that, if he could get his 'gang' behind him, there would be indirect confrontations, slashed car tyres, keyed paint, expensive property damage, the blame for which would be difficult to prove. He would get someone else to do his dirty work for him, because underneath the bravado, most bullies were cowards.

"Right, I now know which of Shakespeare's plays we will be studying this year, so, in the time leading up to, firstly the casting process, I want you all to read Act 1 of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream for next week, and we will discuss the major characters and what message Shakespeare is telling us. I will give you a hint, this is not a romance as such, even though there are several couples involved."

"This is so old fashioned, why do we have to study this?" Stephanie Baxter asked.

"It may be old fashioned, but it, like other of Shakespeare's plays, can be seen as a reflection of modern life."

"Bullshit." 'da Boss' had been listening, despite his staring out the window.

"There have been several films that have been based on his plays. . ."

"Yeah, name some."

"West Side Story is one. It is the Romeo and Juliet story set in New York. Then there was the Musical 'Kiss me Kate', that was based on the 'Taming of the Shrew', there have been films based on 'King Lear' and 'Othello', even operas based on his plays, so you see there is nothing new in presenting a 'modern' take on this play. Now, as we work through this play, I want you to think about which part you want to audition for, and why. To get the part you will have to come up with a compelling reason for your choice."

There was a general buzz around the room, interest was being shown by all but Saskia and Matthew, she because she just knew that she would get the lead female role, and he because he couldn't be seen to be interested, that would be so un-cool.

"Right, having got that out of the way, we move onto the novels that we will be studying. I do not have any choice as to which ones we will be looking at, the gods that set the curriculum have made that decision on your behalf. The main novels are favourites of the examiners; Hardy's 'Tess of the D'Urbervilles', and Xavier Herbert's 'Capricornia'. We will be studying two differing styles and genre of poetry, Keats' romance poems, and Bruce Dawe's contemporary Australian poetry. You already know the Shakespeare play that we have to study. Now in the Matriculation (as it was then) exams you will be prepared, the emphasis is on the 'will', to write essays on each of these topics, as well as a comprehension paper."

There were collective groans from the class. Tess and Keats were just not cool as far as they were concerned.

"Now, in preparation for this, I will be teaching you how to write essays. There are a couple of very important factors in your essay writing, and they are, structure and content. You will structure your essays in three parts (again the emphasis of 'will'). One, you will briefly answer the question, then you will fully expand on that answer, and finally you will summarise your answer. To put it succinctly, say what you're going to say, say it, and say what you said. As for the content of your answer, I don't care what you say, just as long as you answer the question and you justify your answer. We will be addressing the major themes in each topic, you will be encouraged to further your research, use the library to access information, not only on the topics, but the authors. Ask yourselves; 'why did this author write this, what is the background to this author's writing in general, and this work in particular.' It is only when you find the answer to these questions, that you will be able to write an essay on them fully and competently. Do that and you will get an 'A'."

Most of the class were deep in thought; could I seriously expect that they could get an 'A' if they do as I suggest? The exceptions were Saskia Lewis who was of the opinion that she could achieve that grade without trying, and 'da Boss' who quite frankly didn't give a toss. This could prove interesting.

"Now, for next week you will write an essay, and not just any essay, it will be an auto-biographical essay. In it you will tell me something of yourselves, what do you like to do, even what you hate to do, and explain to me why you do these things. I want to be able to see what is going on in your lives, what makes you tick. I want five hundred words, and you will hand them up next week without fail. Do I make myself understood?"

There were the expected groans as I packed up my books and prepared to leave the classroom.

"Tomorrow we will make a start on 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. I want you to read Act 1, scene 1 and be prepared to discuss what you think. I'll see you then." Exit stage right (through door).

From the very first introduction to a Midsummer Night's Dream, where we dissected Act 1, Scene 1, there was an enthusiasm for the play that surprised me. The class, with a couple of exceptions, no prize for guessing who, began to change their minds about the relevance of the play to today's life. It had morphed from the dull and boring scribbling of some ancient author, to something that was actually interesting.

So great was their enthusiasm that when it came time to cast our version of the play, there was competition for most of the positions. The girls, in the knowledge that Saskia was Titania, fought over who would play Hermia and Helena, and to a lesser extent, Hyppolyta, while the boys scrambled to play Oberon and the mischievous sprite, Puck, the romantic Lysander, and Demetrius, who loved in turn Hermia and Helena. There was slightly less enthusiasm for Bottom and his fellow artisans, until it was pointed out the importance of their role in the farcical side of this story.

Rehearsals were arranged for Thursdays after classes, and I would love to have said that all went well. Unfortunately it did not. Saskia, beautiful Saskia, could not remember her lines, and had the acting ability of a statue. In desperation I chose Melinda Barrett to be her stand-in. In an effort to interest 'da Boss', I cast him as Oberon. He balked when I mentioned that Oberon was the King of the Fairies. "If you think that I'd be seen dead playing a poofter, forget it."

"But Saskia is Titania, his queen, wouldn't you like to be with her on stage?" I was hinting that I knew that he and Saskia were regarded as an item, and there were rumours that they had progressed beyond first base.

"Is there a sex scene, do I get to screw her?"

"You wish." Saskia told him, more to convince the rest of us that the rumours were untrue. We remained unconvinced.

"There is no sex scene, but the relationship between the two has to be portrayed as an intimate one. Do you think that you could manage that?"

"At a stretch, maybe, but we will need to rehearse it in private."

"What and when you do outside this class has little to do with me, just as long as you learn your lines and know when to speak."

As rehearsal progressed the two of them appeared less and less. "They are rehearsing in private." I was told. This eventuality actually fitted my plans perfectly. Melinda took over the role of Titania, and the cast was sworn to secrecy.

"How is the play progressing?" Maureen asked me during the lunch break.

"Fine, it's looking great, and we have the woodworking and art classes working on the scenery. I'm hopeful of it being a success."

"What about princess Saskia. Are there any problems there?"

"No, no problems with her. I even cast 'da Boss' as Oberon."

"So I've heard. That was a bold move, and I hope that it doesn't blow up in your face."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes, what is it?" She had every right to be curious.

"The reason that I have no problem with Oberon and Titania is that I have cast two other students in those roles. Even at this stage in rehearsals they are word perfect."

"But how are you going to get around the fact that Henry wants Saskia as Titania?"

"This is where the secret comes in. The dress rehearsal is a week before the production's opening. For that we go with Saskia and 'da Boss' in those roles. It will be a total disaster, Saskia will chuck a tantrum and walk off, followed by 'da Boss', and Henry will call it all off, demanding my head on a platter. I will then tell him that the show will go ahead with the understudies taking over those roles. He will then announce that the 'modern' take that I put on was not what he wanted, and that I will have a week to get it right. A week later the show will go on as he requested, and it will be a success."

"How do you intend to pull this off?"

"It could not have been possible if the Woodwork and Art teachers didn't hate Henry as much as the students in those classes hate Saskia and 'da Boss'. The scenery is double sided, one side modern, while the other is traditional."

"But what about the costumes, just how will you manage that?"

"Next Saturday the class is going on a field trip to Sydney to see a production of 'a Midsummer Night's Dream'. We will leave early enough to allow time to visit a costume shop for fittings. I have spoken to them and they will do the fittings and the costumes will be ready in time for opening night. My brother will pick them up and deliver them."

"You have put some effort into this, but why?"

"It's my way of getting the better of Henry while leaving him with no recourse, no way of punishing me. After all, the finished product is what he asked for. The only downside is that Saskia will not be basking in any glory. And there is another secret. I have been taking two photocopies of the assignments that she has handed up so far, and giving one of the copies the grades that they deserve, while grading the originals as Henry requested. When it hits the fan, none will stick on me, because I will take the other copies of the papers to the Area Supervisor and get him to arrange an independent assessment."

"I think that you should get her other teachers to do the same. The combined weight of the evidence will leave Henry with no wriggle room. Leave that side of it to me. I'll let you know when they are all on side."

The teachers were all onside by the end of the day.

What was a singular act of rebellion soon generated into a massive upsurge of resistance to Henry's despotism. The reason that this remained hidden from the general school population was our desire to succeed.

My biggest concern was with Melinda Barrett. It became obvious to me that she had a crush on me. She was always the first to offer help with anything to do with the play. She was always the first to answer any question I had of the class, and she was almost always right. It came to a head on the bus trip to Sydney. She managed to grab the seat next to me on the bus and, as we talked she would touch me. Don't get me wrong, there was nothing intimate about the contact, nevertheless it made me feel both uncomfortable and flattered. I realised that I had feelings for her, feelings that I could not allow to develop, feelings that I must fight, feelings that a part of me didn't want to fight.

It was dark on the trip back from Sydney and the kids were tired, and most were asleep. Melinda sat next to me again and, as sleep took over from the adrenaline of the day, she slumped against me, her head on my shoulder. I know that I should have moved it, the cautious part of me wanted to, but there was another part of me that just couldn't.

I felt her stir as we approached town. Her hand rested on my thigh and she mumbled in that half asleep way. I could just make out her words, "Dylan, I love you", before she slipped back into sleep. Should I acknowledge her, should I respond in kind? I chose instead to ignore her.

I shook her awake as the bus pulled into the school grounds. "We're back," was all that I said to her. She realised that her hand was on my thigh, "Sorry Mr Smith." I was glad that her hand was far enough away from my erect penis that she didn't feel its hardness, because that would have been just too hard to explain away.