2010 National Workshop Coverage: A report from the BACSP Workshop

"What’s a 48 year-old High School Drama Teacher with MS doing at the National Stage Combat workshop?"

I asked myself that many times over the three weeks filled with fighting. Sometimes with a partner, but many times I was fighting myself, trying to coerce my body and mind to do something I had never done before. I came here from a little town about 45 miles west of Chicago, to learn enough stage combat to begin to introduce it to my high school theatre students and boy, did I get my money’s worth!!

Months before, my friend, Dr. Stephen Gray had showed me a flier for the workshop, explaining that this just might be the answer to my prayers. When I saw that it was being held at the UNCSA, I jumped for joy, remembering an old college friend taught there.  Long story short, my husband agreed this was a journey I needed to take; metaphorically, physically and professionally.

But I had to convince my doctor I could handle the rigor of stage combat for three weeks. He asked about my multiple sclerosis and I told him that I had been managing it for 7 years, thanks to a weekly self-injection of an interferon that slows my disease. Fortunately and unfortunately, my biggest complaint is invisible, fatigue. I don’t look like I have M.S.  Thankfully, I don’t need a cane. I can jog two miles but can walk even further. Standing still just kills me. When I am fatigued, my focus gets muddled, and no one knows this unless I choose to share this disability with them. Most of the time, I don’t.

The next three weeks were a blur. Not knowing anyone except for Stephen, I jumped in the deep end, meeting wonderfully supportive people, young and old, from all over the country drawn to this Mecca of intense stage combat training. Right away, I was reassured by Mike Mahaffey, who was in charge, running a tight ship of dedicated people, ready to make this time meaningful, manageable and worth the money.

Six days a week, we began with warm-ups led by exciting teachers, followed by announcements, providing all of us with the day’s agenda. Then we’d begin our training in either broadsword with the brilliant Fight Master Brian Byrnes, unarmed with the fearless Fight Master Michael G. Chin, or rapier and dagger with the illustrious Fight Master Geoffrey Alm.  Each night I would drive to my friends’ home, tired and tearful, satisfied and frustrated. I soon began to feel this combination of Karate Kid  meets Private Benjamin. (I know I’m showing my age including that, but if you are too young to know the second movie, rent it, visualizing me as a short, brunette, slightly older Goldie Hawn and Fight Master Michael G. Chin as my drill sergeant.) As master Chin admitted in class the day before the test, “I am not a nurturer.” No kidding, SIR!

But each morning, I woke up, took my pain reliever of choice, ate a fortified breakfast, filled my backpack with protein bars, Starbucks doubleshots and water, and faced a new day of learning, laughing, practicing and partnering. Our lunch breaks became respites filled with food and comedy.   

During the next weeks we were given extra training, in between rehearsals, including Paul Dennhardt’s zen-like quarterstaff sessions, Lacy Altwine’s exquisite smallsword classes and even some time with the president of SAFD, Geoffrey Kent, who flew in to introduce us to small firearms.  In a few hours, he and Lee Soroko gave us some terrific background about handguns used on the stage and questions to ask when using them. But the coolest part was aiming and pulling the trigger!

Then came Friday, “test day,” a marathon of theatre/athletics. My partner, Elizabeth and I were given the order of the day’s performances. I imagined us as the Olympic figure skating pairs: waiting our turn, staying focused and connected with our partners, remembering the routine and preparing to give the performance of our lives. It was exciting to perform the scene, putting meaning behind all of the choreography for our judges and audience members. Afterwards, I felt such accomplishment. We were then told to go clean-up and return for the award ceremonies/raffle drawing.

I came clean and happy to our graduation-like event, watching proudly as my new friends received awards for best scene, best partnering, etc. Then, out of the blue, Fight Master Alm, accompanied by Chin and Byrnes, took the stage to give a very important memorial award. Alm spoke of a beloved friend and Fight Director James Finney, who had demonstrated great determination in his life and in stage combat before he passed away. Then Alm announced that the combatant, this year most deserving was someone they all felt had shown the greatest determination in life and/or stage combat, Holly McNeill. I was dumbstruck as everyone in the theater gave me a standing ovation.

What an unforgettable validation of my hard work! I was so honored to be recognized. And believe me, I am framing this certificate and proudly sharing with my high school students my three week journey, so that they too, will be bitten by the combat bug this year. Winter Wonderland watch out! Holly and her students are on their way!