When I started my teaching career in Solihull, I joined a school with a tradition of staging school plays. However, the annual school play had all the leading parts taken by staff members, and the pupils were allowed to play minor characters and the chorus.
The year I joined, they were presenting Fiddler on the Roof, and I was cast as Perchik the student.
The rehearsals were fine, but I was very uneasy about how little the pupils were given to do. It seemed a bit of an ego trip for the teachers. The tickets were sold, and it was hugely supported as it had been for years.
The final rehearsals arrived, and suddenly we were into performances.
On the second day, I went down with a heavy cold; in fact, I was too ill to teach. They told me to take a day to recover, but be there for the performance. I slept most of the day and woke up in the early evening, just in time to get to school. I lived a few miles away, but there was plenty of time.
I went down to the old mini I was driving and turned the engine. Nothing. It was, shall I say, a temperamental car at best, but I thought if I just kept trying, it would suddenly spark into life. Not a chance. Eventually, I decided it was going nowhere. What made it worse was that rain started to fall. By now, I had left it too late to catch the two buses that would get me there, so I started to run, then walk, then run. I was going to be very late, and I was desperate. There was nothing for it, I had to stop someone or I would never be there. I stood out in the road, holding my hand up while a couple of cars zoomed past me, blaring their horns. It didn’t stop me. I tried again. Finally, a car stopped, and the window came down, and a lady looked at me. “Please,” I said, “I’m performing in a play and my car has broken down. Could you drive me to the school?” and I gave her the name. I summoned all of my acting skills and channelled what I hoped was a look of utter despair.
“Of course,” she said, “Jump in, it’s not far out of my way.” Off we went, to my huge relief, and eventually she dropped me at the gate. I thanked her and even left a note for the petrol and ran up the drive. When I entered the backstage area, the staff and students cheered, but the head of English looked the most relieved. He was the director and was probably the most likely to have to go on in my place.
All was well and disaster was averted, but I never liked the them-and-us situation, so I started doing school plays which only featured pupils, and I think they were a lot more fun.
