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After a long check-in (good news, bad news, a beautiful poem, and more), one of the women asked why we don’t ever perform the No Fear “translation” of the play. Several women jumped in to give their reasons, which mostly have to do with how much of the original text’s richness is lost that way. “They might be smart, but they get some things wrong,” one woman said about the authors. “If we did a translation, we would have to do it ourselves,” said another woman.

Tonight was our casting session! We began by reviewing the method we’d landed on: a group discussion in which we’d cast each other, everyone would be honest about what she did and did not want to play, and we’d focus on the overall fit of the ensemble rather than satisfying any one person’s ego. But we’d look out for each other! “Don’t be intimidated just because someone strongly wants a part,” said a longtime member. “Stick up and fight for it!”

Check-in tonight started off kind of silly, with someone sharing her discovery that She’s the Man is an adaptation of Twelfth Night (“Well, I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve really got to check out that Amanda Bynes movie!”). Still in this light-hearted mode, one of the women shared that she’d been asked to write her “Oscar acceptance speech” as an exercise in another group, and what she wrote took her a bit by surprise.

After a rousing game of Twizzle, we grabbed our books and continued our walk-through with Act II, scene i, in which we meet Sebastian and Antonio. The first two women to read struggled a bit through the scene—one is very new to the work, and the other had had an upsetting day—but we still gleaned something from their work! The woman who read Sebastian asked if it had been okay that she’d started yelling a bit. “He’s angry, right?” she said. “Just distressed, I think,” replied another woman. The first woman read over her book, a little puzzled. “There were shouting moments to me,” she said. “I just got this feeling like he had a lot of harshness in his words… He’s venting. He’s definitely venting.” We agreed that the language is blunt, and the feeling of anger—or at least frustration—wasn’t off the mark.

A couple of ensemble members shared some great stuff during check-in tonight! One woman was involved in the groundbreaking for the new Vocational Village, which is very exciting, and we were glad to have her perspective on the event. Then she said, “And then the governor spoke… and guess which program he mentioned by name?”

As we walked in today, a longtime member waved a book at me and said, “[NAME] gave me her book.” This is usually code for “she’s quitting,” and I said, “Is she late or…?” “I don’t know,” replied the woman soberly, “But she gave me her book.” As I nodded my head, clearly disappointed, she said, “I’m just joking—she’ll be here in a few.” Throwing my pad of paper on the table, I said, “Ughhhh! You know you can’t do that to me!” She started laughing hysterically. A few others giggled, but most were confused. “She used to do this to me all the time!” I explained. “I’d walk in for a performance, and she’d be like, ‘I hate to tell you this, but so-and-so went to seg.’ And it was never true!” The woman continued cracking up. “Man, it’s been a long time!” I laughed. “That joke is like three years in the making!”

Today was a little lightly attended, and as people came in, they expressed some surprise that we were present. It’s election day, and many MDOC facilities don’t have the staff to run programs at all–and the ones that do run programs often have to cut them back. But were were there!

We picked up where we left off on Friday, reminding ourselves that we needed to bump our energy level up several notches and work together to make that happen. “Weak energy rubs off on people,” said one woman. “I get discouraged easily if I’m into something and everyone is low energy.” This same woman had come prepared with an absolutely ridiculous game that forced us all to act very, very silly, and it gave us just the boost we needed.

We opened tonight with a surprise! A longtime member who has struggled with crippling stage-fright from the first day recited a monologue–a monologue she had used to audition years ago for Desdemona. She didn’t get the part (“Oh, thank God!” she had exclaimed then), but she got her moment on “stage” tonight in front of a new group of people. “It was nice to finally memorize something and be okay,” she reflected. “We’ve got a really nice ensemble now!”

As she sat down, she did a mock “mic-drop” gesture, then instantly gathered up the pen she had let fall. “I’ve never done that, guys!” she exclaimed.

As we circled up to check in, one woman said she had been reading the play, turning it over in her mind, and had come to the conclusion that “girls should take over this play.” She’s the first to identify “powerful women” as being a major theme in Twelfth Night, and she got no argument from the rest of us. We’re excited to explore it, in addition to everything we’ve already discovered — and everything we haven’t yet!