HOLA. COMO ESTAS. BIEN.
Posted by Ricardo G. on May 27, 2008
HOLA. COMO ESTAS. BIEN.
There is the old cliche: “Save the best for last.” Unlike my father, who uses the saying for everything ranging from the moment dessert is served at a restaurant or during last inning attempts at victory at White Sox games, I hardly utter it.
This last school show has been arguably the most exciting for me. There is the Monkey Triangle of Talent (Brennan Buhl, Kurt Chiang, and John Dixon) into which you would completely enjoy getting lost, the Meredith-made machine with craftsmanship that would make a Star Wars set jealous, a Spanish horror with a kiss of Dorian Gray featuring Brandon, emergent pop cultural icons in the form of an underwater sea band featuring Rachel Wilson like you’ve never seen her before—with fishtail and fiery ‘tude—and Mike Pryzgoda bringing what you’d expect: musical genius. And over all of it, the towering height (and talent) of Mike Tutaj.
However, it is not just the memories on stage harnessed by all these individuals or the Blues solo I sing penned and directed by Curtis that makes this show so memorable. (Magic minute of Monkey mathematics: Solo + me = Monkey First/Risk.) But rather a handful of minutes and seconds that occurred while discussing how to stage a story. That in itself is nothing unusual, but that this story about a serious penguin was written in Spanish made all the difference. (There happens to be a large Mexican-American student population at Orchard Place School.)
We sat and talked. We sat and talked about how to best stage this story. We discussed how to keep the language and native tongue of the student and make it accessible for those that might not know Spanish in the audience with compromising the original voice and language. We figured it out.
Immediately, I thought about my grandmother who didn’t leave her backyard cucumber garden for so long with no where to go without speaking English; or my mother and many other children of Mexican-American immigrants whose parents never spoke Spanish to them because they felt it might hinder them; or kids like me, who were teased about how they pronounced the “funny” food items in their lunchbox, pronunciation of several words or for that “gibberish” they were speaking on Report Card pick up day. Those were the times when “two was—not—better than one.”
But Sunday, May 25, 2008, was not those times. It was a time when speaking Spanish in class and out loud wasn’t just finally accepted—It was important. Worthy of our time, words, and a place. I joined BOM because of its mission and vision to celebrate “the voice of every child,” and I felt so lucky to be touched during this rehearsal to see the consideration by a group of passionate people placed on cherishing and facilitating this particular voice.
In a time where there is much debate about the legitimacy of immigrants in this country, particularly Mexican-Americans, and their successive generations still encounter at times a hostile climate, I have to say to Barrel of Monkeys for myself and any young person who has ever felt a little insecure to say “taco” too well: Thank you. Or Muchas gracias.