what am I supposed to do?

I am having another of those moments of existential angst.

Or, another series.

I have founded two youth theater groups. Both are still active-- the younger one, for older kids, about to celebrate its tenth anniversary is quite active, the older one, for younger (and older) kids, is about to celebrate its eighteenth anniversary. The older one (for younger kids) has been less active in recent years, while the younger one (for older kids) has been quite active.

None of my own biological children has been in a show in a number of years now.

So why am I still doing it?

I'm not getting paid-- I get an occasional stipend, which would not even cover mileage (if I were to charge mileage).

I believe in the power of young people as artists. I believe in the power of theater to transform lives.

But my faith is being challenged lately.

Since the "poisonous comedy" referenced in 2008, I have had more challenges in the culture of the organizations I have founded. Parents objecting to the material (well, if you don't think your 12 year old should be exposed to Shakespeare, so be it-- take 'em out!).

Young people treating the group as a social club -- to the point that the artistic endeavor suffers.

And young persons and older persons disrespecting me, the material and the process.

This is not what I signed on for.

At the same time, I will find -- in the same production-- that theater, my directing, Shakespeare-- some combination of these-- has changed a young person's life for the better.

All at the same time.

The tentative plan I have now is: meet with the core group of teens. Tell them how much I have been hurt. Tell them how much I believe. Ask them to join me with whole hearts.

Or leave. Leave now. Create your own group!

Or-- I could retire.

2010 could be a watershed year. Either re-invent ourselves. Or make our exits gracefully.

Put your oxygen mask on before assisting others.

I flew to the South to visit my daughter and watch her theatrical performance-- a pleasure I haven't been able to enjoy for a few years, due to our distance geographically and her busy academic schedule.

So, of course, I heard the flight attendants' usual spiel about the safety features of the plane and the use of the oxygen mask. As ever, the attendant included the caution:

Put your oxygen mask on before assisting others.

Now I am far from the first to note how appropriate this advice is to life in general. You have to be able to breathe, if you want to help others to breathe. If you don't take care of yourself, you won't be there to take care of anyone else.

So, taking care of number one IS important. Who will argue that?

Well, actions speak louder than words and I feel we are so out of balance.

Some of us grab our oxygen masks, put them on, and grab our neighbors' too, just in case ours don't work.

Some of us suffocate ourselves and those who need our help by not heeding that essential instruction: put your oxygen mask on before assisting others. We are refusing to value our own selves enough to take care of basic needs, and claiming to value others so highly that we rush off to save them before we ourselves are safe.

And soon, they, as well as we, are lost.

More meditations on this topic: Breathe: I so often forget to breathe. If only an oxygen mask would pop out each time I had a change in the cabin pressure of my life.