Eternally North
Page 15
“What?” they screamed in horrified unison.
“Off you go. Unless you want to spend your afternoon parading those outfits throughout the school...?” I threatened.
At that, they shot out of their chairs and to the closet, huffing and puffing all the way.
This was going to be a piece of cake!
Over the first term, my classes went from strength to strength, and my after-school performing arts group were gearing up to put on their production of Les Miserables. My Moody Triad were, well, less moody and more open to all things theatre. Even the timid Boleyn Jones was crawling out of her shell, and consequently making new friends and becoming a lovely young lady. She would be 'mainstreamed' in no time.
I had recruited Mandy Thomas to help cast the parts for the upcoming challenging musical. We were the Pop Idol panel of The Calgary School of Excellence, and I had appointed Mandy as our honorary Simon Cowell, due to her dangerously high-waisted trousers (power trousers, she called them) and the fact that when Jonathan from Grade Nine had auditioned with a rendition of One Direction’s ‘What Makes You Beautiful’, she had stopped him midway-through and told him he was ‘distinctly average’ and that he ‘should try a more feminine song to suit his mousey-type vocals’.
Cut. Throat. Honesty.
We were nearly done for the day, and I was slightly concerned that I had not managed to cast ‘Fantine’, the lead female role. The door to the studio creaked open as we were packing away our things, and Boleyn Jones came through hesitantly.
“Boleyn? Are you okay? Do you need to see me?” I questioned.
“Erm, kind of,” she replied, biting her bottom lip.
“Well, what is it, honey?” I implored.
“I… I would like to sing for you,” she stated in a hushed tone.
I stared at her, gobsmacked, “You want to sing? You want to audition? I didn’t know you could? You never have in class before,” I said with a shocked voice.
“I… I can a bit… I think. I just get scared I'm not good enough. Can I just let you hear, and if I’m bad you can just pretend I never did it?” She shuffled her feet nervously.
“Boleyn, I’m so proud that you would even audition, it takes guts. By simply doing this, it shows how far you've come in such a short time," I praised.
“Come on, Boleyn. Let’s see what you’ve got,” barked Mandy.
Boleyn put her iPhone into the speaker and stood centre stage, looking small and timid behind the microphone.
I recognised the song immediately; it was Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’. Mandy and I looked at each other and cringed. It was a tough song, even for the best and most seasoned of singers.
Boleyn moved to the mic and looked up, staring straight ahead – confidence transforming her face.
Wow.
Her voice was velvet. She began to sing, and from her little mouth came the voice of an angel. It was breath-taking. Move over Charlotte Church!
Mandy dropped her pencil and grabbed my arm, her mouth hitting the floor. All I could do was stare – stare and listen. Stare as the shy, introverted girl was gone, transformed into the embodiment of confidence, owning the stage and captivating us, the audience. She was outstanding. I had never heard anything so beautiful.
Beside me, I heard sniffling, and saw the janitor had stopped her cleaning of the studio to watch with tears streaming down her cheeks, mesmerised by the timid little Boleyn girl lighting up the room.
I had found my Fantine, and Boleyn had found her passion, and by the looks of it, the key to her salvation. She looked so… happy.
The song ended and silence descended on the room. Boleyn, once again head-down and trembling, asked softly, “Ms. Munro, was that okay?”
I walked up to the stage, noticing that the whole time she was watching her shuffling feet. “Boleyn Jones. Where have you been hiding that? You were perfect. Look at me.”
She glanced up shyly.
“You were perfect,” I repeated in all sincerity. She smiled and whispered her thanks.
In my best X-Factor voice, I took her hand and shouted, “Boleyn, with two yeses, you are going through to boot camp! You are my top choice for Fantine!”
Three days later, I posted the cast list, and Boleyn suddenly found she had a new family of friends. Casts are always close, and The Calgary School of Excellence performance crew immediately took her under their protective wing. It was rewarding to see.
Later that afternoon after school, a knock on my classroom door interrupted me from the marking of a million essays on the Black Death that I had to get done by the next day.
“Off you go. Unless you want to spend your afternoon parading those outfits throughout the school...?” I threatened.
At that, they shot out of their chairs and to the closet, huffing and puffing all the way.
This was going to be a piece of cake!
Over the first term, my classes went from strength to strength, and my after-school performing arts group were gearing up to put on their production of Les Miserables. My Moody Triad were, well, less moody and more open to all things theatre. Even the timid Boleyn Jones was crawling out of her shell, and consequently making new friends and becoming a lovely young lady. She would be 'mainstreamed' in no time.
I had recruited Mandy Thomas to help cast the parts for the upcoming challenging musical. We were the Pop Idol panel of The Calgary School of Excellence, and I had appointed Mandy as our honorary Simon Cowell, due to her dangerously high-waisted trousers (power trousers, she called them) and the fact that when Jonathan from Grade Nine had auditioned with a rendition of One Direction’s ‘What Makes You Beautiful’, she had stopped him midway-through and told him he was ‘distinctly average’ and that he ‘should try a more feminine song to suit his mousey-type vocals’.
Cut. Throat. Honesty.
We were nearly done for the day, and I was slightly concerned that I had not managed to cast ‘Fantine’, the lead female role. The door to the studio creaked open as we were packing away our things, and Boleyn Jones came through hesitantly.
“Boleyn? Are you okay? Do you need to see me?” I questioned.
“Erm, kind of,” she replied, biting her bottom lip.
“Well, what is it, honey?” I implored.
“I… I would like to sing for you,” she stated in a hushed tone.
I stared at her, gobsmacked, “You want to sing? You want to audition? I didn’t know you could? You never have in class before,” I said with a shocked voice.
“I… I can a bit… I think. I just get scared I'm not good enough. Can I just let you hear, and if I’m bad you can just pretend I never did it?” She shuffled her feet nervously.
“Boleyn, I’m so proud that you would even audition, it takes guts. By simply doing this, it shows how far you've come in such a short time," I praised.
“Come on, Boleyn. Let’s see what you’ve got,” barked Mandy.
Boleyn put her iPhone into the speaker and stood centre stage, looking small and timid behind the microphone.
I recognised the song immediately; it was Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’. Mandy and I looked at each other and cringed. It was a tough song, even for the best and most seasoned of singers.
Boleyn moved to the mic and looked up, staring straight ahead – confidence transforming her face.
Wow.
Her voice was velvet. She began to sing, and from her little mouth came the voice of an angel. It was breath-taking. Move over Charlotte Church!
Mandy dropped her pencil and grabbed my arm, her mouth hitting the floor. All I could do was stare – stare and listen. Stare as the shy, introverted girl was gone, transformed into the embodiment of confidence, owning the stage and captivating us, the audience. She was outstanding. I had never heard anything so beautiful.
Beside me, I heard sniffling, and saw the janitor had stopped her cleaning of the studio to watch with tears streaming down her cheeks, mesmerised by the timid little Boleyn girl lighting up the room.
I had found my Fantine, and Boleyn had found her passion, and by the looks of it, the key to her salvation. She looked so… happy.
The song ended and silence descended on the room. Boleyn, once again head-down and trembling, asked softly, “Ms. Munro, was that okay?”
I walked up to the stage, noticing that the whole time she was watching her shuffling feet. “Boleyn Jones. Where have you been hiding that? You were perfect. Look at me.”
She glanced up shyly.
“You were perfect,” I repeated in all sincerity. She smiled and whispered her thanks.
In my best X-Factor voice, I took her hand and shouted, “Boleyn, with two yeses, you are going through to boot camp! You are my top choice for Fantine!”
Three days later, I posted the cast list, and Boleyn suddenly found she had a new family of friends. Casts are always close, and The Calgary School of Excellence performance crew immediately took her under their protective wing. It was rewarding to see.
Later that afternoon after school, a knock on my classroom door interrupted me from the marking of a million essays on the Black Death that I had to get done by the next day.
