Cinderella

“The play’s the thing” comes from Shakespeare’s Hamlet (Act 2, Scene 2). It’s a commonly used phrase applicable to several contexts. Most immediately, it refers to the state of our temple. Wherever one looks, it is impossible not to see that the play’s the thing, or to put it more plainly, signs of Cinderella are everywhere.
In our main foyer is a massive poster of Cinderella’s Castle. It’s part Disney and part Wes Anderson. You can’t miss it. On the left is the boardroom. Usually, that space is filled with deliberations and arguably momentous debates. Now, it’s the men’s dressing room, where Medieval finery abounds. There are tunics, doublets, feathered caps, and tabards, along with snack dishes filled with various sweets or salty treats. When actors aren’t on stage, they eat unhealthy food (except for the virtuous few who bring containers of things like melon or celery).
Our café is now the costume workshop and women’s dressing room. It’s filled with chemises, gowns, and kirtles. I’m told the women actively snack on the same hazerai the men eat. It is barely-contained chaos in the best tradition of community theater.
The social hall is completely transfigured from B’nai Mitzvah Pepsi-Coke-Dr Pepper deejay readiness to an actual theater. A massive stage is surrounded by pipe and draping, illuminated by a professional lighting company. The sets are vast and impressive.
Even the bimah is serving Cinderella. The children’s costumes share space with the quick-change outfits for the cast. Props are on a back table, and various theater accouterments are on display. There, too, it is slightly, wonderfully chaotic.
You may ask, “Why does our temple sponsor big Broadway shows that, save for Fiddler on a Roof, have no Jewish content?” You may ask, “Why do we turn the temple upside down to put these plays on?” And the answer to both questions is simple: The play’s the thing!

We pull together seasoned temple play participants into an immediately solid, bonded cohort. And then we add new temple members and other congregants who want to check out what the fuss is all about. We roll this snowball of singers and dancers and stage crew and artists and painters and seamstresses and detail people and temple staff all together, and out pops a play. And out pops a new micro-community of congregants who didn’t know each other before but now have a connection of love and time and effort, and collaboration. It builds temple strength and cohesion. It also defines us as a community that wants to sing and dance together.
And it does more. For participants, our temple plays often become transformative. People discover hidden talents, overcome fears, build confidence, and find their voices. The process can be compelling for kids who want to find a way out of their shyness. It also engages congregants who may be introverted or unsure how to engage at TBA. It’s a sturdy bridge to deeper self-understanding.
Shakespeare understood that even a light comedy could reveal the truth and elicit genuine emotional responses. Cinderella is a tool to expose reality rather than simply entertainment. The discarded stepchild who wants to be loved, who teaches a group of patrons that kindness works. The political intrigue of the powerless versus the powerful. The manipulation of a population. Not to mention the idea that dreaming can make impossible things possible every day.
The play’s the thing.

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