Thinking back to my junior year of undergrad when we were all just coming back from quarantine, but everything was still weird. Social distancing was still a thing. Some classes were online or hybrid, and my theatre program was trying to figure out what we were going to do, especially for the mandatory production class.
See, the production class was a one credit class that we took each semester where we built that semester's production. There was one, three hour class a week in the evening when we all got together as a department to work on the show, and then each student was responsible for at least an additional three shop hours to work on the show either in their particular crew or with whatever was being worked on when they were available.
However, that fall semester, the production was virtual. There was no physical show to build. There was a strict class limit, so the usual once a week class had to be split into three different sections that met on different nights of the week so that the technical director could oversee each class.
Our technical director decided to split the classes by experience. Students with little experience were taught the basics of the shop and the various production elements. (Honestly, I was a little jealous that they got that hands-on instruction across all of the production elements without the stress of a show to build.) Upperclassmen (aka seniors) were put in an upper level section. They got to choose a project and then each design and build their own. They chose birdhouses. I was put in the mid-level group that had too much experience to rehash basics but not enough to design our own projects at that point. Instead, the TD decided that, like the upper level section, we would all agree on a project, he would make one design, and we would actually build it.
He recommended a birdhouse like the upper level, but let us offer our own suggestions. Several students suggested things they'd find useful to take home and use after the class was done, which is fair. However, where our TD made a mistake was putting me in that class with such freedom of choice.
See, I'm a nerd, half our section was full of needs, and our TD was the king of all nerds in our town. I'm talking a full on Warhammer enthusiast. The shelves in his office were filled with science fiction and fantasy books and comics that he let students borrow. His name was printed amongst the test players in the D&D guides. He built his own life-sized prop hammer that he kept in his office. He invited me to my first ever D&D session and gave me my first sword. I (along with the rest of the department) adored that man. I (along with the rest of the department) also loved to give him shit.
So, knowing I would win before I opened my mouth, I suggested that we build a trebuchet.
TD: You want your own mini trebuchet? That would be really cool.
Me: No, I want you to design a full-sized, fully operational trebuchet, and we'll all work together to build it.
I could see the glimmer in his eye. It was mirrored in all of the eyes of my classmates. Checkmate, my friend. The vote was unanimous.
TD: Goddammit. I guess we're building a fucking trebuchet.
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