Locking Up the Future

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I get in trouble at my high school every once in a while. I admit it. Every few weeks, one of my many supervising administrators reminds me that I'm doing something wrong.

Hey, I'm like you. Unless you work for yourself, we have bosses who do this to us. It's the nature of management: telling people how to do things “right.” Even people who work for themselves have bosses who tell them how to do things right. These people are called “customers.”

Anyway, I get in trouble because I don't lock my door to my office. Students can go into my office without supervision, which is bad, I am told. So, I listen to my bosses. I lock my door. Locking my door is good, I am told.

I must admit something else: I'm not sure locking my door is good.

To a Hammer, Everything Is a Nail

What's the purpose of a locked door? What is the effect of a locked door?

Locking things up makes sense. You have something valuable and you want to protect it. Locking it up is brilliant-- you alone (or those you share the key with) have control, along with the security that you know your stuff is safe.

In this way, a lock is simply a barrier or a boundary that one can control- and we love them in our schools.

This should be the end of the conversation: locks and limits make sense. But it isn't because people learn how to neutralize the lock. There are a number of ways to get around a lock, and there is no shortage of time spent on this problem.

Let's consider ways in which we get around locks outside of school. While doing your taxes in the last month, you (or your accountant) spent some time finding ways to neutralize the lock of taxation with “deductibles.” Isn't that what a deductible is-- a lock pick? Any loophole is a lock neutralizer.

“You're not allowed to park here” Ok. I'll just throw on my hazard lights and run in and out of the store before a cop can bust me. Lock picked!

“The game is sold out” Sure it is. I'll just call my uncle Larry, the VP of marketing at the stadium, and I'll get seats. Lock picked!

“It's buy one taco, get one free-- limit one coupon per visit” No worries. I'll buy my taco, get one free, then get back in line and do it again as many times as I like. Lock picked!

A locked door doesn't just protect things. A locked door creates an arena, a playing field in which people are incentivized to neutralize the lock.

A locked door makes people into lock pickers.

You Are Not Invited

Locked doors protect kids and school property, we say. But locked doors discourage engagement and undermine self-responsibility. “You're not supposed to be here,” locked doors tell kids. “You are an untrusted guest with limited access.” Kids don't need to take care of anything because they aren't in charge of anything. Locking things up limits participation in the maintenance of a community. A place that locks things up is more interested in safety and control than in engendering responsibility and rational risk-taking.

Get Rid of Locked Doors?

Heck, no. It's not unreasonable to imagine that kids could do real damage to property or themselves if we didn't lock things up. The chemicals in the chemistry lab actually COULD hurt someone. The computer lab, filled with equipment, would likely be robbed or ruined if left unlocked.

Some locked doors are good-- but we must be extremely careful what we lock up. We must bravely attempt to leave as many doors unlocked as possible. We must replace our culture of locked doors with a culture of stewardship. An overwhelming number of teenagers long to be in charge of things. Let's make our schools places of stewardship and involvment.

Paraphrasing Adam Smith, chief apologist for laissez-faire government, I say: the fewer the locked doors, the more robust the growth. Let's lean towards “hands off” regulation in schools. As it is, we're just locking up the children.

Doors and curiosity have a special relationship. A locked door only promotes curiosity about how to break in to a room. An unlocked door facilitates curiosity of all kinds, welcomes people in and becomes a portal for wonder, discovery, and community.

Sigh. Looks like I might get in trouble again.

No One Is Alone

notes from the director

Into the Woods

High schools are wild and wonderful places.

North Shore is filled with energy and exploration. Whether in the classroom, the gym, or the theatre, teenagers are dynamos engaged in the rhythmic pulse of life. I always marvel at the spectacle of starting a theatre production at school. Auditions are exciting and stressful affairs, powered by the electricity of hope and determination. The buzz in the hallways minutes before we start rehearsal reflects the intensity of the teenage life: the strong will for greatness measured by the tense fear of failure.

What happens in our school reflects what happens in our homes, with adults and children. We all want to dare to be wonderful. But we're also afraid that our mistakes will keep us from happiness.

Which do we want more?

Do we want to be daring? To chase adventure and all the risks that come with it? Or do we want to be safe? To protect what we already have and try to avoid losing our most precious treasures?

Welcome to thrilling and terrifying woods of our lives.

Stephen Sondheim, composer and lyricist of Into the Woods, has left out no terror or joy in this piece. We'll watch the characters leave home, lose friends, make new friends, fall in love, fall out of love, and lose their parents.

It's heavy stuff. But we are comforted by the presence of many of our favorite characters: Cinderella, Little Red Ridinghood, the Big Bad Wolf, and Jack and the Beanstalk all walk the stage in this piece. The Baker and His Wife are also here, although we don't celebrate their story too much anymore. Look carefully in our production and you'll see the playful Three Little Pigs, the careless Hansel and Gretel, the graceful Little Bo Peep, and the brave Woodsman.

And the Giant is going to knock your socks off.

So will these kids. They're working for themselves, these actors and musicians and crew members, but they are also working for you. Enjoy them. And, if you can, listen to what they say.

They'll tell you that we must be careful what we teach our children. That being nice and being good are not the same thing. That being brave sometimes requires being vulnerable. That saying hello to new experiences requires us to say goodbye to old experiences.

And they'll tell you that no one is alone.

Welcome to another wonderful season of North Shore Masquers' theatre! We're delighted to begin our Year of the Family with one of the greatest theatrical works of the 20^th Century, Into the Woods.

We dedicate this piece to the children who became our parents. May we remember that they were kids who braved the woods of their own lives. They might leave us, but they are always here.