Never can say goodbye

My husband is a university instructor of technical theatre and stagecraft.  Our life is full of drawings, drafting, sawdust, tools, paint and the occasional fog machine. Since I arrived in Evansville just over two years ago, I've participated in the build of around ten shows at the university.  I'm usually the one with the pneumatic staple gun or glue bottle...typically something with which I can do little harm to the scenery, but makes me feel like I'm doing something to help.  Mostly I try to stay out of the way.

One of my first memories I have of spending time in Evansville is spending time in Tom's shop.  He seems to be perpetually in the middle of building a show.  The building process is part of his teaching process.  It's all very hands on and the theatre majors at the university all spend time in the scene shop learning about the tools of the trade and just how a pile of lumber becomes the backdrop for a show.  I wasn't in the shop very long at all before I met his "kids".  A passionate, eclectic group of theatre students with big personalities and even bigger dreams.  I fell in love with them all and before long they felt like family.

University level theatre really is a thankless business.  Hours upon hours and days upon days that turn into nights upon nights are spent building, painting, lighting, sound, blocking, costuming and rehearsing.  After the final show, the technical team comes in and rips it all apart.  All those hours of work are destroyed in an afternoon filled with dust and noise.  I've watched Tom flip off the work lights and utter "thank GOD that's over".  The theatre goes dark and empty.  Exhausted students try to catch up with papers and homework...but they can't wait to do it again.  No one makes any money.  No one gains any fame.  There's nothing lasting that they can hold in their hands.  They fight, they laugh, there are tears.  But they are in love with it.  My husband lives to foster that love in these young people.

Each year at this time, he turns in his grades for the end of the spring semester.  He usually does so with a sigh of relief knowing that another year of impossible budgets and crazy time frames has come to an end.  Summer stock is around the corner and he's already thinking about the drawings he'll need to draft for the upcoming three shows that will be built in his shop and trucked some 30 plus miles away to an antique theatre in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere.  He's usually worn out, but satisfied that he and his colleagues have gotten another group of students through the program.  I think it must be very satisfying for him to hear their plans of what theaters they'll be working in and where they'll be sending their resumes.

The hardest part of all of this is graduation.  While the students are celebrating taking their last final exam and planning when they'll leave for their homes, we know that we are losing a part of us.  People who have become part of the very fabric of our days and nights are going to be moving on.  We've felt like surrogate parents at times.  They've had holiday dinners with us when they couldn't get home and they've watched our daughter for us.   We've laughed with them in social settings and we've seen them cry when school has driven them to their knees.  This is the part we dislike.  Tom and the others have done their jobs and most importantly, the students have done theirs.  It's time to part ways.  People that we've grown to love are going on their way.

This year is especially difficult.  Some of the students that are graduating this year we feel very strongly about.  They are a special group.  Talented beyond measure.  Full of dreams.  We'll miss them terribly.

Josh & Tawni
This picture is from the day I met Josh Smith and Tawni Morningstar.  They came flouncing into the shop brandishing fans and generally making a lot of noise.  I've watched them grow from harried sophomores to confident poised seniors.    Along the way they developed their own internet show, became rabid conehead fans, and sang, danced, acted and worked their way into the heart of the theatre program.  They renamed Emma as Bodashka, kept her busy while we were working in the space, and have kept us endlessly entertained with their talent.  I can't imagine one without the other.   Josh has cheered me up with hugs and made me laugh when I've felt at my worst.   He sang at our wedding and convinced me that he was allergic to ham.  He is endlessly talented, drives like a madman, and is passionate like no one else I know.  Write down his name...you'll see him again.  He has what it takes.   Tawni is brilliant and driven.  She acts, does wardrobe, is the props queen (at times to her dismay) and knows just what she wants in this world.  She's funny, unpredictable and I love her...and not just because she shared her chocolate covered almonds with Blythe Danner.  Tawni too will succeed in theatre.  It's her passion and that passion shows in everything she does.

Alica Tatman
I think I had been sitting in on one of Tom's classes in the shop when I met "Tatman".  No one ever calls her by her first name.  In fact, I don't know if anyone knows she has any other name.  She's always been "Tatman" or just "Tat".  She's a skilled carpenter, knows lighting and electrics like she was born with a wrench in her hands, swears like a truck driver and works until she drops.  There isn't a job in the theatre or shop that she can't do.  Her confidence and expertise at any task she takes on is incredible.  She is the shop queen, rides electric bulls in a dress, and loves to hunt.  There's no mountain too high for Tatman.  She has spent the last several years torturing Tom including blasting him with a confetti cannon and he has adored every second of having her around.  Tatman is irreplaceable.  The theatre world is wide open to her with all of the talent that she has.  We will be lost without her.  The scenery will continue to be built and other talented students will come and go, but there will never be another one like Tat.  The whole program will miss her.

I don't want to leave anyone out...Tom loves all of his students and for each one that he shares his knowledge with, they give back to him with their talent and respect.  Former students of his work professionally all over the United States in the theatre industry.  Not all of his students have chosen to go on to work in theatre, but the ones who did have done very well.  He takes pride in that.

Josh, Tawni, and Tatman: you may not see us at graduation.  It's not because we don't care...it's because we do care.  We care very much.  It's bittersweet to watch you go.   One moment we're filled with pride that you've accomplished your goal of getting your degree in theatre, the next we're stricken with the thought of you not being here next year.  Just know that the memories that you gave us of your time here in Evansville are some of the best times we've had.  Holiday dinners around our dining room table, late night work calls, staples put through fingers, cars breaking down.  We've loved every second of having you here.  Best of luck to you.  Your future is bright.  We love you.