"Magic Rock, Magic Rock, what will you be? Magic Rock, Magic Rock, change on three. 1...2...3! Astronauts!"
"I'm an astronaut!" - "Great Alex!"
"I'm Darth Vader!" - "Ok Boston."
"I'm an alien!" - "Sure Michael!
"I'm an asteroid!" - "Um, Oliver."
"I'm a shark!" - "In outer space Bradley?"
I am teaching five 4 year old boys how to act. At 10am. On Sunday morning. And it's as if they've already shoveled down five pounds of sugar and lost their sense of hearing. At least asteroids are in outer space. But sharks? Sharks aren't in outer space. Then again, I've never been to outer space to prove it. So...
"Yes! Good shark-astronaut Bradley!"
Positive reinforcement, whether they're following directions or not, is the only way to get through these 45 minutes without anyone crying...me included. And letting them run around and chase each other is the only way to keep five 4 year old boys interested in an acting class.
Magic Rocks, in case you're wondering, is a simple acting game. I whip out my imaginary invisible super magic wand which is a different invisible color each day (today it is blue with gold sparkles and a lime green star on top) and turn each kid into a rock. For one beautiful split second, the kids shut up. Then they have the power to turn into whatever I say. Astronauts. Superheroes. Pirates. Dogs. Ninjas. When things get out of hand, like all the monkeys escape from the zoo and fall into a lava pit and start screaming, my blue-gold-green magic wand transforms them back into rocks! Silent rocks! And then we sing the song again and change into something else. I don't mean to brag, but the pretty wand and the catchy song are my own special touches that I've added to the game. The kids pour into the classroom singing my Magic Rock song. With no clue that I made it up on the spot on the first day of class.
"Magic Rock, Magic Rock, what will you be? Magic Rock, Magic Rock, change on three! 1...2...3! Cowboys!"
"I'm a cowboy!" - "Good Alex!"
"I'm a cowgirl!" - "That's fine Michael."
"I'm Darth Vader!" - "Still Boston?"
"I'm a jelly bean!" - "What?! Oliver, you have to become what I say. You have to - "
"I'm a shark!" - "Bradley!!!! Ok, yes, what a great Cowboy Shark you are!"
Every day I plan to do something different from Magic Rocks. I've got a ton of games up my sleeve and I've got different stories to act out. But every day they come in chanting the Magic Rock song. I start playing a different game and they shout "Let's play Magic Rocks!" and "I like Magic Rocks better!" Don't they get sick of this game? Should I be teaching them new things? Will they ever grow as actors if they always play the same game? And same characters, even.
I may not be creating the next Robert DeNiro and Meryl Streep. I may not ever get to the Meisner technique with them. I can't even get to the Animal Charades game with them! But at the rate we're going, these children are going to grow up to teach their children how to be a Magic Rock. Knowing my legacy is bound to live on, with patience and a resignation to keeping my other acting techniques up my sleeve, I say "Ok, Magic Rocks it is."
Hey, I actually really love the game. Only in the world of Magic Rocks can sharks live in outer space and mermaids defeat dinosaurs and monkeys fly to the top of a mountain and asteroids talk AND I have ultimate power...
"Ahh! Stop pulling!" - "Alex!"
"Ahh! Stop pushing!" - "Stop!"
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrr! I'm gonna eat you!" - "Boys!"
"Ow! I'm gonna kill you!" - "Don't say that word!"
"The shark's attacking!!!!!" - "1...2...3! REGULAR Rocks!"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"(whispering) Psst...Jodie...what does a shark rock say?" - "Nothing. He doesn't have a mouth."
