October 2004

Alex Suha • Mad About You

On a field trip to Chicago's Lincoln Park Zoo, Alex Suha (back) watches over his feisty brood of dramatic grade-schoolers.

I can count 13 heads in three seconds. I can lift seven ten-year-olds at once. I can stop tears with a mighty kickball. I am revered for my famous “Suha-side” off the pool slides.

It’s the Wheeling Park District’s summer performance camp, where I’m teaching acting. One of the first things the kids learn about me is my frequent use of the word "mad,” as in, “I’m mad hungry” or “We have mad time left at the pool.” By 3 p.m., my brain is like coagulated old ranch sauce at the spout of the bottle. My sentences lack coherence and efficiency.

"Let’s go to the thing.”

"I need that stuff you said.”

"I only want…side until I.…uuuugh.”

But now it’s morning, and the little finks are saving their energy and sucking sugar on a bench outside my room. I’ve discovered that my kids are all experts on the human mind and how to subdue someone much older. They all pretend to have extremely short attention spans and selective hearing. It’s the first defense against my ability to exhibit authority. When eye contact has been established, and my statement, query, or command delivered, they attack my reasoning.

"Why?”

That’s never a simple question to answer, particularly because I don’t have enough energy to think that far ahead. I resort to: “Because I said so.”

Somehow, in spite of the power struggles, my kids keep up the pretense of friendly admiration for me. One day, we take a field trip to a ceramics crafts place, where we—actually, just the kids—paint little pieces. Z isn’t sure which one to do, so she asks my opinion about painting a “Yield” sign.

"You could make it totally messed up with crazy colors,” I tell her. It’s probably clear that I feel left out of the whole artsy endeavor.

"What’s your favorite color?” she asks.

"Green,” I say. “Green is cool.”

Later, Z drags me to the shelf that holds all the painting projects: "Alex, check this out.”

Her artwork says: “MAD YIELD.” It’s a gift for me. I wonder what she’s up to.

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