My last post, some months ago, was a Q&A about agency in DC vs. LA and opportunities for child actresses and other related issues. But, there was one very important question that wasn’t asked: What does Menna want?
This post is a brief, informal, and anecdotal exploration into that question’s answer and how that answer is reached.
My Assumptions Are: brilliance should be embraced; “embrace” may mean guidance but not directives or manipulation; a positive and constructive approach is always possible; and a child can learn and will benefit from doing things for themselves.
Tarantino-ing Forward: Menna says, “Now I’m angry and sad AND happy! Do you know what that means? I’M VERY CONFUSED!” [Cue: laughing passers-by]
Rewind: I expect Menna to engage the road to acting fully. The purpose is two-fold—to ensure she learns as much as possible and, as a test, to ensure she is willing as evident by her active engagement. This played out some months ago when, on a ‘let’s go to the office and work on the acting project’ day, I asked that Menna read my previous Representing D.C. posts.
“But wait,” you say, “she’s only 5 and you expect her to read your blog?!” Precisely! And, as if to prove my point, she was recently promoted to sit-in as a 1st-grader after only a month in kindergarten because she, “already knows how to read, write, and do math.”
She did not want to read the posts. To which I replied, “Okay.” And so life went on and a few months passed and I did not do the ‘agent-thing’ on her behalf.
Act II: Near the beginning of this month and unbeknownst to me, Menna inquired with Mom whether I would start working with her on the acting-thing. Mom said she should ask. Menna decided to do an audition… and then ask.
Menna and I were strolling along the road back to my apartment after a day of hanging-out in D.C. We approached a bridge. She asks, “Are we going to cross that bridge?” With a waggish half-smile I reply, “I think yes, that’s the plan.” She stated, “I don’t want to,” with a scornful look and I asked why. To wit she replied, “Because bridges make me angry!” Knowing full well a ruse was on its way I tried to contain my laughter, saying only, “okay.”
As we stepped foot on the bridge and for the remainder of our time on that bridge, Menna put on her audition… “I’m angry now!” “Oh, I am just so angry!” “You—why do you—I just am so angry with you!” “You always do this and it is just—OHH, how you just don’t care and that’s just making me more ANGRY!” Passers-by looked, were startled, and then smiled.
The Grand Finale: A group of about five college-aged kids were stepping off a bus and walking toward us from about 20-30 yards away. The three girls in the group had noticed Menna’s behavior. Stepping first foot off the bridge, Menna planted, did a ¼ turn and planted her second foot. Staring straight at me, arms set at her sides, then raising one for emphasis, she proclaimed emphatically, “Now I’m angry and sad AND happy! Do you know what that means? I’M VERY CONFUSED!” [Cue: uproarious laughter from me and three college-aged women now only 10 feet away]
The Ask: After a short walk we reached halfway from the end of the bridge and the apartment. Menna, strolling calmly and in a gentle voice inquired, “So, will you help me become an actress again?”
Concluding, Menna and I are now exactly where we need to be and ready to move forward. In case you were wondering how I concluded that…
I have recently arrived at the idea that people are almost universally born brilliant and only taught their limitations by parents and schools, etc. I am not referring to the rules we learn like “don’t swim for an hour after you eat.” I think actually that these limitations are taught to children insidiously and unconsciously—as in, when adults act surprised and humored by a child who says or does something we think is a happy chance occurrence of adult understanding rather than a fertile mind at work. Or, when we don’t expect children to take things on and ask for help; when we take their expressed interest and embrace it by doing things for them and then are surprised and disappointed when they become less interested. I believe that last approach is setting-up a child for failure and is often followed by a parent or mentor’s expression of disappointment with the child or outright chastisement.
Rather, I embrace Menna’s brilliance by expecting Menna to embrace her own journey. I expect her to do things for herself and I will always be there to help her when she asks or when she needs counsel but is unsure to ask. I do this despite the maybe-popular view that it is expecting too much. Thankfully, Menna has provided evidence supporting this approach through her actions.
Disclaimer: I recognize my views may be skewed by the fact that Menna is brilliant and mean no offense to anyone who disagrees with me.