Greetings Sophomore Drama Students,

It is my pleasure to announce to you all that through months of hard work and tireless fundraising, we were able to raise the money necessary for our end-of-year field trip. As you are all well aware, we will be making an out-of-state trip to the renowned theater known for its excellent renditions of Shakespeare’s works. This is an opportunity not many people your age get, and I am excited to see what this journey holds for us.

With that in mind, there are some rules and guidelines you MUST adhere to over the course of this trip. These are all inspired by instances that occurred during past trips with other sophomore classes, and I cannot bear the thought of having to go through any of this again.

1. In all my years as a teacher leading this field trip, I am finally breaking a longtime cycle, taking a stand, and refusing to be gaslighted by students this time around.

Sure, it starts innocuously enough: You smirk slyly and fairly convincingly claim I gave permission to be out of your hotel room past curfew, yada yada, but the next thing I know, you’re driving my car around—and I do NOT remember lending it to you—and talking on the phone with my mother-in-law, calling her “Max”—her name is Maxine and nobody’s allowed to shorten it (least of all me)—and thanking her profusely for the fruit cake she sent last Christmas.

I’m putting my foot down. This is NOT happening again.

2. No matter how nicely he asks, Vincent the Vagrant is NOT permitted to bunk with you in your hotel room.

Vince has been a staple of these field trips the entire time I’ve been leading them, and he’s always incredibly gracious in his request for a room for the night. DON’T be fooled by this.

He seems like a good guy, but I know from personal experience that all he really wants is to wait until you’re asleep so he can go through your luggage in search of loose dice. He doesn’t care what board game they originally came with, he just likes to have a pocketful of them at all times so he can introduce a controversial topic (like, for instance, abortion) and then throw the dice and say, “Uh oh! I hope I didn’t just make things too dicey!”

It’s annoying and I’ll be honest, a little unsettling.

3. I don’t give a shit if you have “medically diagnosed PICA,” you cannot eat pebbles in a silent theater during a Shakespeare production.

This should just be common sense at this point, people! I don’t know WHY I have to keep reiterating this one, but like clockwork, it becomes a point of contention every year, and I somehow always end up having to confiscate someone’s ziplock baggy of rock shards during intermission.

If you’re really in dire straits, smuggle a modest bag of dirt in with you and I’ll look the other way. A reduction in noise level is really all I’m asking for here.

4. If you are a vocal fan of the shows The Big Bang Theory and/or Rick and Morty, please let me know ahead of time so I can put you all in a room together.

I do this for much the same reasons that doctors in the 1300’s put patients with the bubonic plague together in the same ward—one word, three syllables: containment. I don’t need that spreading to anyone who isn’t already contaminated, so be up front, and don’t think I won’t know; I hear every “I’m Pickle Rick!” and “Bazinga!” you think you’re whispering quietly enough (spoiler: you’re not).

5. On the day of check-out, you’re welcome to take whatever minor amenities you’d like that the hotel won’t miss (soap bars, shampoo, etc) but the shower curtains, and toilet seats are MINE.

Don’t worry about why I want these things, just know that I do. I’m sure one of you will have a problem with this, but if I catch somebody trying to smuggle away something I’ve rightfully claimed, you better hope the next bus through town is going somewhere you like, because you’re gonna be on it.

Anywho, that about sums it up. If everyone is mindful of these rules and behaves well, this should be a very good time indeed.

Get packing, this is going to be fun!

Yours truly,
Your Humble Drama Instructor