A few years ago, my grandkids came to visit. If you have grandkids, you always know that is something to look forward to. Actually, I enjoy seeing the grandkids more than the kids. You’ll get it when the time comes if you aren’t there yet. Grandkids are fun and inquisitive and interesting. And when they come over, I get to forget about things like Russia, gas prices, and whether Joe Biden is going to wander off randomly shouting the word “rutabaga” during his next press conference—or try to call on one for a question.
On this occasion, they wanted me to read to them, and I was happy to oblige. My grandson and his sister used to enjoy the Frog and Toad stories, but I figured they were getting a little old for Frog and Toad. So I asked them what they wanted me to read. My grandson, who was nine at the time and who likes to wander into my study, pointed at a book on the shelf and said:
“That one!”
“That one?”
“That one!”
“The Complete Works of William Shakespeare? Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
Okay then. What Shakespeare play was I going to read to a nine-year-old boy? “Romeo and Juliet”? Too mushy. “The Tempest”? “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”? Nah, too weird even for a kid who was a Minecraft fiend at the time. “Much Ado About Nothing”? It would never fly. “The Merchant of Venice”? Too much explanation required. And so, I settled on the one play I knew might hold his interest. It was “Macbeth,” of course. It had witches, ghosts, bloody treachery, combat, Scottish lords, and lots of swords. What’s not to love? It has always been my favorite for those very reasons.
I knew if I had struck an oratorical pose and began reading, my grandkids would have wandered off in three seconds. So instead of reading it, I decided we would act it out. He became the title character and his seven-year-old sister took on the role of all three witches and manned the light switch for the lightning effects. I played everyone else and fed people their lines. I even gave my grandson my Scottish Highland sword to lug around. When his mother came to pick him up, he left proclaiming, “I am the King of Scotland!” Of course, we didn’t get to the end of the play, so he didn’t learn how things turn out for Macbeth. But he enjoyed the hell out of Shakespeare for the night. Not bad for two hours of impromptu theatrics. And I think he learned something since I talked with him about how things like ambition and a lust for power can ruin a person. That’s the thing about Shakespeare. Many of the themes in his plays are timeless and apply to everyone. People will always fall in love, make mistakes, do evil, and be kind, treacherous, and heroic. And Shakespeare’s plays explore all of those things and more. That is why there have been so many adaptations of his work.
But for Dana Dusbiber, who teaches at Luther Burbank High School in Sacramento, California, Shakespeare is too white, too male, and too British. Therefore, she wants to decline to teach her students about his work. According to Campus Reform, Dusbiber has said, “I do not believe that a long-dead, British guy is the only writer who can teach my students about the human condition.” She believes Shakespeare is pertinent only to the age in which he lived. She fears that by “clinging” to Shakespeare, students will be deprived of literature from other authors from other countries and other times. She added, “If we only teach students of color, as I have been fortunate to do my entire career, then it is far past the time for us to dispense with our Eurocentric presentation of the literary world. Conversely, if we only teach white students, it is our imperative duty to open them up to a world of diversity through literature that they may never encounter anywhere else in their lives.” So there we have it, standard woke educational theory. To paraphrase a line from “Henry VI,” “The first thing we do, let’s kill all the straight white males.”
As I mentioned above, Shakespeare’s themes are timeless. His plays have been adapted to suit all periods and have featured actors of all races. Hell, there is even a Klingon version of “Hamlet,” for crying out loud. How much more diverse can you get?
And as I have asked elsewhere, why is it that for the woke, it is always an issue of either/or and never both/and? Could she not teach Shakespeare and then compare and contrast the work with another author? Why deny students the opportunity to learn as much as possible? And besides, the Bard is part of that district’s Common Core curriculum.
And, cue the record scratch.
But there is another component. Dusbiber’s other complaint is that Shakespeare is not always easy to read. Specifically, she has a “personal disinterest in reading stories written in an early form of the English language that I cannot always easily navigate.” You guuuyyys! Shakespeare is haaarrd! There’s like, words and stuff!
You know, if a guy with no educational training can make “Macbeth” interesting to nine- and seven-year-old kids, it should not be that hard to find a way to make Shakespeare relevant to high school students. But I am sure that if Ms. Dusbiber screws her courage to the sticking place, she’ll not fail and wrangle her way out of teaching Shakespeare. A student’s time in high school is, after all:
“but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”
Then again, any moody, hormone-laden teenager can tell you that.
In the meantime, if your school district cancels the Bard, please contact me via PJ Media. My grandson and I are working on a touring production of “Macbeth” and will be happy to play at your venue for a modest fee.
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