Below is an email sent to the Director of the Seldom Seen Acting Company regarding rehearsal last Friday.

Donna --

Rehearsal went great! At first it was just Isaac and Lyndon and I'm thinking we should just call it, then I went and checked the Chapel and JR was waiting! So we had 3 guys, then Dennis showed up, then Matthis, and lo and behold Ole Phil Wilson came straggling in. Mike, unfortunately, did not show up. So 6 plus me made 7 and we even had a visitor, a guy that has played piano in the Center before, so I asked him to stay and listen, but not to participate.

We got started about 9:45 and managed to complete the entire exercise and even dabbled with the scene order. Matthis is very anxious to know what part he is doing. We had the "fine tuning an engine" conversation (or, rather, Dennis recounted it for us) after Matthis expressed an interest in tweaking some of the script to make it more real to him. So Dennis walked Matthis through every part that had Deandre's name on it. I told Matthis to read that and the other scenes where you had blanks and to come back on Friday with an idea of what spoke to him most. I told the guys we'd finalize scene arrangements on Friday as well as sign contracts.
But the exercise went awesome. It was very very effective. The guys, once again, amazed and inspired me. My biggest hope, "that this lays the groundwork for consistent work for the guys," was starkly different than Dennis' "that the children don't grow up to be like us." Many of the biggest fears were similar: that we might forget lines, that men may not show up for the performance, that men may drop out. They also came to discover that their hopes and fears were often the flip side of the same coin. This summarizes Isaac and Matthis' biggest hopes and fears.

I was JR's partner and, while he gave a beautiful response in the one-on-one session with me, my biggest fear "that the company will explode in real conflict once again the day of the performance," was trimmed back to "forgetting lines." So we even had the chance to correct each other! Lyndon asked to correct what Phil said he said.

Many of the guys--JR and Lyndon included--hoped that, this time around, our affect on the audience would be greater. Greater, not in the sense that they would be more pleased or we would get more donations or a bigger standing ovation or something, but greater in the sense of impact. JR wanted more questions during the Q&A about their homeless situation, not just "how'd you manage the production" type stuff. It was fascinating: they really want to affect change in the audience. The fact that we will be performing in front of children and young adults really touches them. More than one man echoed Dennis' hope.

We started to get at underlying internal conflict issues. I relayed JR's biggest fear, "that individual egos would begin to dominate the company, that this would turn Company members off, that men would begin to quit, that the work Donna and Steve put together would be for nothing, that there would be no more quotes like the one from Fr. Vince." And Lyndon responded, "you're afraid that personalities may come before principles."

So we talked about leaving our personal personality conflicts at the door. I specifically addressed the Mike/Dennis episode the day of the previous performance (which is when I really wished Mike were there). Dennis assured me that such a thing wouldn't happen because the woman that was the source of this conflict (it always seems to be a woman's fault doesn't it?) was no longer involved. But Phil was keenly aware saying: "fear of failure manifests itself in all kinds of ways."

ALL OF THE GUYS WERE TOUCHED BY FR. VINCE'S QUOTE ("We are promoting this event with our school in a special way. It will be a valuable experience for our students and parents - as well as for our entire parish. God bless you! Gratefully, Fr. Vince"). It started to become like this rallying cry.

So, rehearsal went great.

It's like Golf.

I sat in the middle of our center today just soaking it in. The time was 9:15, our Coordinators just came out of a meeting juiced about new policy. Six volunteers were on hand to staff the day. Eight homeless, formerly incarcerated, recovering addicts, nearly all men of the "unwanted race," bustling and scurrying to prepare for the day--to prepare to serve scores and serve themeselves.

These little pieces of positive awareness come even in the midst of and despite (i.e. they are real nonetheless) the undertones of dramatic personality conflicts between the staff. These little pieces of positive awareness come even as the Coordinator continues to struggle with managerial consistency: reminding others not to store their personal belongings in the center, for example, as his girlfriend rolls a full shopping cart behind his desk.

It's small things like this that you learn to appreciate. It's taking a step back, putting the behavior in context of the clients' backgrounds, and appreciating the outcomes we so often claim are invisible.

You see, it's like golf. You live for that one shot. You know the one. That one sweet, effortless swing where the ball feels weightless, your form perfectly efficient and, as that ball flies, the ground beneath it undulates so as to conspire to bring that little ball in flight towards its one true resting place, a carved out divot in the middle of a soft pasture. This one shot will make a golfers day regardless his final tally. While some might say it's illogical and irrational--claiming that a single shot, a single moment of joy, can possibly justify 17 and 2/3 holes of pure misery--any amateur golfer basking in the 19th Hole will tell you it's all worth it.

In much the same way these small moments--they seem so few and far between when they're not happening, yet they limitless when underway--justify our work despite the vast majority of let downs and setbacks.