A Trip to the Theater

If the five seasons of The Wire taught me anything, it's that there is no character as reviled (not even you, Policeman) in inner-city neighborhoods as the Snitch.* To residents of these neighborhoods, snitching is unjustifiable under any circumstances, and results in - at best - the complete ostracization of the Snitch from the rest of the community.** Though typically used in reference to one who provides police with information, the term "snitching" can be heard frequently in my classroom as well. For example, I recently asked Jermica, who sits next to my desk in the classroom, if she knew anything about the whereabouts of a missing bag of lollipops I had stored there to reward well-behaving students at the end of the week. "Mr. Martin, you know I ain't no snitch!" was her response. I left it at that.

All of which brings us to this morning's field trip, where we headed downtown to see a play called "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere." Somewhat shockingly, my students had never heard of the play's protagonist, and as such were unaware of the reasons why he is considered an American hero. We were the first school to arrive at the theater, and were ushered into the first few rows of seats. The kids were excited but well-behaved as they waited for the play to begin. Ever vigilant, I walked the aisles adjacent to my fourth graders, arms crossed and unsmiling, clenching a list of parents' phone numbers I had brought for the sole purpose of intimidating unruly students into good behavior. I never once needed the list, and as the play began and the kids were uniformly captivated by the action taking place mere feet in front of them, I remember thinking "Maybe this won't be a complete humiliation after all." (At this point, all three of my faithful readers should see where this is headed.)

The behavior remained outstanding as the performance drew to a close; two of my students even took a nap.*** The trouble began, however, as Paul Revere mounted his horse to spread the word of how the British troops were assembling. As Paul rode through the Massachusetts countryside, alerting fellow patriots that the Redcoats were crossing the Charles River, I detected excited whispering from the direction of Alonte, Montee, and Izeah a few seats over. I leaned forward and directed a withering glare at them, and all was quiet again until the end of the performance. At the play's conclusion, each actor stepped forward individually and bowed in acknowledgement of the crowd's applause. When it came time for the actor who portrayed Paul to take his bow, he was greeted by a near-unanimous cheer of approval from the few hundred students in attendance, with the notable and very audible exception of Alonte, Montee, and Izeah, who shouted boos at the man from a few feet away. Face flushed with anger and embarrassment, I managed to silence them and walked all three up the aisle and into the theater's lobby, where I asked what reason they could possibly have for booing a man who had just spent over an hour trying to educate and entertain them. They looked puzzled. "Why would I cheer for him?" Montee asked. Quivering with anger, I implored him to explain himself. Pausing a few seconds, Montee finally spoke with such innocence and sincerity that I lost all anger and broke down in laughter. "Paul Revere a snitch!" he declared.

*Slang for an informant. If you can't realistically request the next two weeks off work for "urgent personal business" to watch The Wire in its entirety, then at least do yourself a favor and watch this fascinating interview if you doubt me on this assertion.

**For you English majors, a comparison can be made here to The Scarlet Letter's Hester Prynne, if you permit yourself to envision her in decidedly less Puritanical surroundings. And with the name La'Hestra.

***Given that these students were not in the very first row of seats, I was completely fine with this. Any teacher who tells you that they would rather have two of their students wide awake than silently asleep during a play in a darkened theater is lying to you.