It's Not What You Know; It's Who You Know.

(This is dedicated to every student I have ever taught.  If nothing, I hope I introduced you to the importance of networking, being kind, taking risks and a lifetime love of learning).

Name dropping. It has always been a delicate balance between wanting to share what you know and where you have been and the Midwest sensibility of no one really cares.

A year before I quit my life where I worked under others, one of my superiors called me to his office. He wanted me to know that "many" of my colleagues were tired of hearing about my friendships with political individuals such as the mayor and governor. I have to say that I did appreciate his choice of the simple adjective pronoun "many" during this occasion.  In the past, when he found something on which to reprimand me, he was typically fond of using the phrase, "a parade of people have voiced a concern," when - in fact - it was a disgruntled freshmen girl who - for someone reason - he gave audience.

Here is what happened. I had been asked by The Good Shepherd Center of Sioux Falls to give the address for their spring luncheon. As a non-profit that focuses on the homeless community, they wanted me to share my story of Valerie, the "baglady" I befriended in NYC and relocated to South Dakota.  It was to be a brief 20 minute presentation and - I thought - in a private environment with their board of directors. When I arrived, I discovered that is was a much larger event. All three television stations were there, the audience included over 150 people and the Governor of South Dakota was going to introduce me. As a professional public speaker today, I learned my lesson on not doing better research on my engagements.

I excused myself, stepped out, made some quick edits and prayed for support. Here's the revised opening, "Greetings and thank you for having me here today.  I must confess that I am feeling a bit overwhelmed. Last Friday, I was honored to have written and co-hosted the Sioux Falls Night of the Arts program with our fine mayor. Today, the governor is my warm-up man.  I am totally expecting to return to my office and have a voice message from President Obama asking what my calendar looks like next Friday."  It got a laugh.

That afternoon, at rehearsal, I shared my miscalculation and response to my small cast.  Again, it got a laugh. I never repeated it. On Monday, I was called into the office; "many" had complained about my bragging of knowing the mayor and the governor. I was assured that nobody cares who I know. Evidently, one of my students thought my story was funny enough to share. Another professor overheard it and beelined to administration. She became "many."

Over the years and as a theatre director and woman on faith, I have traveled to many places to learn and grow as an academic. Upon returning from a university sabbatical, I begged to present a colloquium on my discoveries while working in the New York theatre scene. It never happened.  When the mission group of 19 university students - that I led - returned from Belize, we asked to present on how God moved our feet, hands and hearts. It never happened.

The calendar was never open to this storyteller. Some may say that I talk too much and giving me a platform to do so, just encourages my enthusiasm and makes others uncomfortable. I hope that this oppressive attitude made me a better teacher and advisor. When students would return from a semester abroad or from studying at the film institute or from their concert trip to Italy, etc, I invited them to present to their peers. Their travels and tales inspired us all and fanned the flame of wanting to see more, do more, know more.

My father never wanted to hear about my trips or work in places like New York or Belize either. I believe it was because if he affirmed the stories, it made those places real. If they were real, I may move there. This was his unspoken fear.  He just wanted me near. This I understood. However, why others chose to rain on the parade of one's adventures instead celebrating their experiences is something I will never understand.

My first teaching job was in Arlington, South Dakota - population under 1,000. I taught sophomore - senior English and speech.  I was the oral interp coach, the one act play and musical director and the cheerleading coach. I applied for the job hoping to be the basketball, cross-country, or track coach, but upon learning I had seen a play, they changed my obligations.  Lowell Gilbertson, the principal, was tough. He was hard on this me and the entire young faculty that he assembled in the late 80's.

My second year, I was frustrated with my lack of experience with play direction, so I applied for a couple of days off to attend a one-act play festival at a nearby college. He denied the request. I was quite upset. I said,"You just want to keep me stupid so I stay here forever!" I felt terrible afterwards as I loved teaching in that little town; I didn't mean to show disrespect to the community, students or him. In fact, I still believe all teachers should begin in a small school because you must learn how to do it all!  That rural school taught me what teaching should look like.

Years later at a college basketball game, I ran into Lowell, Principal Gilbertson, at the "confession stand" as my children always called it. I could not hug him hard enough. His initial tough love lessons could be found in every one of my classrooms since leaving his small school. He reminded me of the day I was so angry and (as he remembered it) stormed his office. Through our laughter, I apologized. He responded, "There is no need.  You were absolutely right. You were hungry for knowledge, and I knew we were going to lose you. I have watched you all these years, and that hunger has served you and your students well. It has been a joy to watch your journey."  At his memorial - for a death that came way too early - I reminded us all that he had a great gift to create educational leaders. Of that young faculty in the late 1980's of approximately 15 people, many of us went on to be college professors and educational administrators. We have Lowell Gilbertson to thank.

Today, as I am on another trip with my sister, I am reminded about how much I love to learn. Specifically, as I write this, I am am on the corner of Chartes and Toulouse in New Orleans' French Quarter enjoying a cup of corn and crab chowder watching the world go by from a upstairs veranda. Just down Toulouse is Hotel Maison de Ville, where Tennessee William's finished "A Streetcar Named Desire" in his favorite Room #9.

My dad always said that I would be happiest if I could figure out a way to have someone pay me to go to school the rest of my life.  Simply, I am most productive as a teacher and artist when I am learning. In history, a patron of the arts was one paid by royalty for their creation of art. A poet, playwright, or musician could "do their thing" all day being subsidized by the court as long as the art itself was dedicated to the royal individual. Let's bring that relationship back. Hey Sanford Health Systems, Citibank or Vern Eide Motors, looking for an artist in residence?  I know a girl.....

So, here I am in New Orleans soaking in the sounds of blues and jazz and the spirits of historical ghosts, and feeling the need to finally purge my stories of elbow rubbing, amazing teachers/mentors, lovefests, and totally true tales. The following names won't be recognizable to everyone; but whether you are a television junkie, movie buff, music enthusiast, theatre geek, sports fan or book lover, there will be at least one name you recognize.  Some of my stories are brief encounters and others are friendships that last to this day; most are pretty funny.  All of them have had a hand in molding all of the "me's" but especially me as a teacher.

However, remember, these are my truths. After reading one of my stories about growing up in his house, my father made a grunt and said, "Well, if that is the way you remember it...." before he walked away. This is the way I remember it.

Michele Pawk
Neil LaBute
Raul Esparza
Mel Brooks
Tom Stoppard
John Stewart
Edward Albee
Idina Menzel
Kevin Spacey
Slava Dolgatchev
Mario Fratti
Rachel Maddow
Steve Buschemi
John Malkavich
Branford Marsallius
Alan Cumming
Robert Cohen
Arthur Miller
Gabby Sibode
Liza Minnelli
Mike Nichols
Julie Taymour
Woody Harrelson
Kathleen Chalfant
Anne Bogart
Sutton Foster
James Earl Jones
Phillips Seymour Hoffman
Joan Jett
Dick Cavett
Tony Danza
Tom Brokow
Sam Rockwell
Douglas Hughes
Lou Diamond Phillips
Jane Fonda
Eve Ensler
Roger Ebert
Aidan Quinn
Cherry Jones
Seann William Scott
Chris Noth
Laura Linney
Emily Mann
Paula Vogel
Romulus Linney
Terrence McNalley
Alphonso Soriano
Joe Torre
Tracy Scott Wilson
Tracey Letts
Lee Blessing
Deborah Copaken Kogan
Amy Bloom
Ed Helms
Christopher Durang
Joyce Carol Oats
Gabriel Barre
Paulie Shore
Michael McGowan
Jarrod Emick
The women of "The View."
Many who are regulars on Law and Order including Bruce McVittie, Lucy Martin and JoAnn Merlin

I am currently proud to be watching a couple from the cast of Wapato - the show I assistant directed in New York that are shining on Orange is the New Black - Kaipo Swabb and Dale Soules

If you are reading this and remember one that this middle aged brain has forgotten, please remind me. I am also hopeful that the list will grow as I will never be done traveling and learning.