Milo's Bouncy Story

Recently, Milo's school forwarded to me a link offering a parent and child team the opportunity to enter in a story writing contest chaired by Robert Munsch. The grand prize was a home visit by Munsch himself, a creepy idea if ever there was one if you ask me, but there were other prizes. Milo goes to a school in which he participates in a behavioural program. That is to say he is designated as behaviourally challenged. While his IQ is off the charts (literally - he didn't inherit that from either of his parents!), he apparently suffers from the following: "He experiences his emotions more powerfully than most and has trouble managing social situations when the experience overwhelms him." At least I know he comes by that honestly. For the most part he is simply delightful, but when one of his episodes manifests, it can be quite explosive. I was delighted to focus his attention on this creative family activity for a short while. He dictated his ideas to me and I wrote them as he stated them (for the most part) with only minor changes and edits. When we went to the website contest submission page we discovered that we had missed the submission deadline by two days. Milo was a little heart-broken so I wrote a letter to the website contact email pleading our case for a late submission. Of course, we received no response. Fortunately, as often as he can become emotional, Milo also has the ability to let minor disappointments roll off his back. The following is Milo's story.

My name is Milo. I am 8-years-old. I have six brothers and sisters: Rory, Megan, Blair, Camille, Aiden, and Lilian. Sometimes it’s hard for my Dad and Step-Mom to play with me because there are so many children to take care of. Lucky for me, we have a trampoline! All my brothers and sisters like to play on it. We play a bouncy version of Blind Man’s Bluff. One person is ‘it’ and must close their eyes. The ‘it’ person stands safely in the middle. The rest of us bounce around and try to avoid being touched. Bounce! Boing! Bounce! Bump! Tag! “You’re it!” If someone gets touched, it is their turn to close their eyes and be ‘it’. My oldest brother makes sure we are all safe and don’t get hurt. Bounce! Boing! Bounce! Bump! Thump! Tag! “You’re it, now!” My oldest sister makes us all laugh and giggle. Bounce! Boing! Bounce! Bump! Thump! Giggle! Tag! “You’re it this time!” My Dad says, “It sure is funny to see all you kids bouncing together.” It’s SO funny that sometimes he stops cooking, or cleaning, or working and comes out to bounce too. BOUNCE! BOING! BOUNCE! BUMP! THUMP! GIGGLE! GUFFAW! TAG! “YOU’RE IT, DAD!” I love the trampoline.

CHALK!

I write and I write and I write. I tap out another thesis and I acquire another grade. Alas, all too often I forget why I started doing this in the first place. But every once in a while I get an opportunity to attend some actual theatre. Ahhhh, the theatre . . . (deep breath) . . . in all its glory. And all too often I’m disappointed. But not this time. SNAFU Dance Company and William Head on Stage have produced a piece for the ages: Chalk! I’m no humanitarian, I have no taste for the avante-garde, and I’m the first to cry ‘Euro-trash!’ when I see it. But not this time. Blurring the lines between childhood folly and adult transgression, Chalk! affords the inmate performers at William Head the opportunity to live out beautiful and terrifying moments of childhood that they never had, or never escaped. I normally raise an eyebrow at how valuable applied theatre can be, but this one may have me convinced. Emotional crescendos of jubilance and pathos pepper the drawn out moments of slow and contemplative physical representation. Particularly talented was the inmate who played ‘Tuk-Took’ (who, as an actor, is required to remain anonymous for legal reasons). He hit a variety of delicate emotions with substantial virtuosity. For a piece that is ostensibly all white, the performance was saturated with colourful emotion. As a fellow grad student, Anne Cirillo is someone I usually see as merely the person with whom I share funding, but her performance was emotionally powerful from beginning to end. The piece gives fresh life to old questions without pretension; it answers none of them. Overall, it was a touch too long. It was clumsy in places, and awkward in others, but delightful through and through. Most of the audience was riveted. The rest were fidgety. Fortunately, I fell into the former category. For a piece entirely void of dialogue, I am an audience member who would normally be proned to fall asleep. But not this time. As a movement performance, I assure you, it was wholly moving.

See you in hell,
Shakes.