WELLS NEWS 'N VIEWS
BY ROY LENARD WHITE SPECIAL CONTRIBUTOR
In keeping a little social activity in our lives, Laura and I stepped out to mix with the movers and shakers of Wells night life. In doing so, I pondered what happened to my acting career. It seems that in the hustle and bustle of feeding and sheltering offspring, I let stardom fall right through the crack.

My first introduction to the bright lights of center stage occurred in Mrs. Dolvis Walker's third grade. Twelve of us were chosen to represent the months of the year. I was the shortest boy in the class so I was picked as the shortest month, February.

Mrs. Walker sent a note to my costume designer, mom. Mom spent nearly 40 minutes making my costume. She cut three valentine shaped hearts from some bright red material, which she had dug from her stash of quilting scraps. She sewed two of them on the knees of my jeans, where holes had recently appeared, and the third on the left side of my shirt. February was ready for action.

I had no lines. When January was through and back in line, I was to move to center stage while one of the girls read the lines about February. I then returned to my original place while March advanced - and so on and so on.

Having tasted the limelight, later in the year I volunteered to read "Little Black Sambo" to the class. Near the end of the story, I became nauseated and vomited in front of the teacher and everybody. As I tried to return to my seat, I vomited again in the aisle.

Little Black Sambo has long been banned from school because some black Americans thought it was racial in title and content. I didn't understand that action because I didn't recognize any racial slurs in the book. It was the first tale I had read about an African kid. Little Black Sambo was a hero because he brought tiger butter home so his family could eat it on their pancakes.

I have since been to Africa many times and have friends from several countries there. I found that he most likely used the butter on his pounded yams instead of pancakes. I still think it was a good story about diverse kids in the world. But I suppose a book that makes a kid sick from reading should be banned.

For me, passing Mrs. Mills fourth grade hinged on standing in front of the class and reciting a poem that I was to have memorized. That was the hardest thing I had ever done up to that time. I had been broken from wanting to get up in front of the class in Mrs. Walker's third grade. Dangerously close to the end of school, I realized that without an effort, I might be detained in the fourth grade.

I told the teacher that I would try to recite the poem. It was a short poem, the shortest that I could find. It seemed that I had to be prompted on every other word. When I struggled through the last line, Mrs. Mills scolded me, saying that was the worse recitation she had ever heard. I never viewed Mrs. Mills as having mercy but, in retrospect, through her mercy was the only way I got credit for that rendition. My show business career was down the tubes.

That said; we went out the other night to dinner and a show. Project Celebration, a Wells High School parents' organization that sponsors a clean, non-alcoholic, drug free graduation party for the seniors, hosted the gala evening. For a nominal fee, we were treated to a taco salad dinner with a choice of drinks and dessert.

After dinner, Mrs Wendy Collins' theater class performed a skit of a classroom setting that reminded me of my first year as a school teacher. The finale was a real treat. Four theater students, Tara Greenville; Leah Nguyen; Brittany Morton and Angeles Hernandez performed brilliantly in their production of "To Burn a Witch."

The four girls were selected as an all star cast in district competition and the play was selected as First Level Alternate for the district.

Check the Wells ISD web page www.wells.esc7.net for the school calendar or, if you are in town, check the bulletin boards at the bank or city hall for events that are entertaining and support school activities. You don't have to use up a lot of your hard earned gas money either.

Scene in Passing with Marie Whitehead returns next week.