The art of fighting bullying

By Jim Davis - Florida Catholic

SOUTHWEST RANCHES | The Maverick Players don’t fight fair.

They combat bullying in schools, but they don’t attack head-on. They use the subtler weapons of dance, drama, music and humor — cleverly inlaid with thought-provoking lessons.

Each year, the drama club at Archbishop Edward A. McCarthy High School hosts public service gatherings for other schools. Through skits, songs and dances — many of them student written — they say their lessons can be more effective than a simple lecture.

"People take their guard down," said Matthew Salas, one of the players and emcee for the show. "They're more open to the message."

His words are echoed by Cindy Keegan, artistic director and drama teacher at the school. "It's so much more impactful when you see something played out, rather than just talk about it. I think the lessons sink in."

Inside the Black Box

By the end of the school year, the Mavericks will have done such shows for 10 area middle schools and a total of 1,200 students. The performances take place at McCarthy's Maverick Theatre, dubbed the "Black Box" for its black walls and ceiling.

One morning session brings 100 students from Nativity School in Hollywood, who have clearly heard it was going to be fun.

During the fast-moving session, they call out skit titles from a list of 29 they’ve been given. As the players prepare for each skit, emcee Matthew leaps up and plucks its number from an overhead line.

Some of the skits draw laughs, often with audience participation from Nativity students. Some are light and fun, though each carries a moral.

In "Remember That Guy," the performers all fawn over a boy, showing how one person can influence many others. In a song-and-dance number, "Rumor Has It," they sing, "Just because they said it, doesn't mean you have to spread it."

Between skits, the sound system plays pop music like "Hello" by Adele and "Uptown Funk" by Bruno Mars. The guests gleefully sing along. 

Stage manager Christine Fanchini, 18, loves to see that. "The goal is to make it fun," she said. "Music, lights, it's meant to help the whole experience."

Words with a punch

Other playlets are more serious. "Brainwashed" shows peer pressure with Nazi-like intimidation — with performers even angling their arms in the shape of swastikas.

In "Sticks and Stones," two hoodie-clad thugs insult Julianna Romero while beating her up. She collapses to the floor, then tells the audience: "They say words can't hurt you. But they lie."

In still another skit, a boy gets a girl to send him nude selfies, then shares them with his friends. Then all the boys are arrested and get criminal records.

And an eloquent number called "Run To You" shows a girl blocked by other players who represent life's obstacles. Finally she turns to a boy representing Jesus, who helps her stand with confidence — and, with a touch on their shoulders, levels the "obstacles."

"I choreographed that — and while I was doing it, I was that character," Marisabel Correa, 17, said afterward with a little amazement. "It's very humbling — realizing that even through the hardships in life, he will always be there for you."

By some reactions, the show hit the mark.

"The plays were well written," said Alysianna Gil, 13, of Hollywood.

"They were very funny and interesting," added Rowan Hudson, 13, of Sunrise.

"They made it relatable," said Madison Mink, 12, of Pembroke Pines. "Some of that stuff could happen in high school. You need to make a decision: Don’t let anyone change you. Do what you want."

From experience

There's a reason the plays stick: They retell actual anecdotes by McCarthy students or from educators in other schools. Three years ago, Keegan asked the students to write scripts on bullying.

"I told them, 'Be honest; write what you’ve gone through,'" she said. "Not what adults want to hear."

Monica Medrano, 17, took that advice last year when she wrote "What Doesn't Kill You," a monologue about a betrayed friend. She said a close friend turned against her in middle school — calling names, pushing her books off a table, cutting her out of her circle of friends.

Monica became withdrawn and even faked sickness to avoid going to school. Transferring to McCarthy High and joining the Maverick Players has helped, but she still bears emotional scars, she confessed. "I don’t open up as much. I'm working on it."

School chain reaction

The Maverick Players realize that one performance can't change everything. Some, like Kevin Fitzpatrick, take a long view.

"You can't affect all 100 (listeners) at once," Kevin said. "But if 20 go back with the lessons stuck in their heads, it can lead to a chain reaction at their school."

Christine Fanchini, the stage manager, confirmed that: "We hear incoming freshmen say, 'I saw your show — it was fun.'"

Marisabel Correa is one of those who saw the Mavericks during middle school. As a student at St. Bonaventure School, Davie, she attended several Maverick Players performances over the years.

"Every time I went back to St. Bonaventure, I thought about it and talked to my friends," she said. "I wanted to be part of it."

See related stories:

• Battle lines against bullying

• The opposite of mean

• Best way to stop bullying: Prevent it