A Fiddler on the Roof

     After a recent read-through of FIDDLER ON THE ROOF, I asked my cast of high school students to unpack the title. For those of us familiar with the musical based on the Shalom Alechem's stories, this may seem like an overly simplistic, obvious question. But for a group of teenagers, the majority of whom had never read the script nor given any thought to the meaning of the story, this question evoked insightful dialogue and responses.
     My first encounter with FIDDLER was as a twelve-year-old 7th grader when I was cast as one of Tevye's younger daughters, Shprintze. At that time, I was far more caught up in the blossoming romance between the characters of Perchik and Hodel than considering the potent story and themes of the generational erosion of custom and tradition embodied in Tevye's struggle to balance tradition with his love for his daughters who, one by one, challenge his beliefs.
I was practically ignorant of the historical context of the play and the weight of oppression under which the villagers of Anatevka lived.
     But my students are living in a time when the highly visible plight of modern refugees permeates the media and spurs both moral and political discussion. FIDDLER ON THE ROOF is arguably as relevant today as at any other time in its musical theatre history. The opportunity for students to delve in to its rich, textured, and human story against the backdrop of a dictatorial, prejudicial regime is Theatre on Purpose.
     Always at risk of falling off that roof, the fiddler represents the constant striving to maintain the shaky balance of tradition and progress. It is complicated. It is generational. It is universal.
     FIDDLER ON THE ROOF does many things, but above all, it uses theatre to tell a story that reaches in to our hearts and causes us to examine the rooftops on which we all perch.
"It is dangerous," one student said. "There is always a risk of falling off that roof, " said another.
     While breaking with tradition is the common through-line of the story, tradition's role and importance to cultural identity provokes an interesting point of view not often considered by high school students.  As Tevye says, "Because of our traditions, everyone knows who he is, and what God expects him to do." This blind, unquestioning obedience to customs passed down through the generations is upended throughout the story of Tevye's daughters. But for a teenager in 2017, the story provides a window in to their own attitudes and beliefs. The answer, as I usually discover, is less important than the process of questioning. "How did you come to know what you know? Why do you believe what you believe?"  Through critical analysis, one may end up even more committed to one's beliefs or driven to  redefine them in light of greater depth and insight as a result of daring to ask the question.
     At the end of the play, as the villagers of Anatevka disperse to lands unknown, driven out  by "an edict from the authorities," Tevye turns and gestures to the questioning, seemingly abandoned fiddler, to come with them.  This poignant moment is filled with meaning. While things change due to circumstances completely out of our control, that which is important to us remains. There is a  dignity  to the moment.
     When I consider the countless refugees who have been forced to leave their homes and those who have  fled the  political or religious oppression of brutal, murderous regimes, my heart aches. We take for granted the safety and security of our homes. How many of us, like Golde, in one final, pride-filled act, would sweep the floor, so not to "leave a dirty house."
     FIDDLER ON THE ROOF is full of educational theatre lessons. It is an important work that connects us to our common humanity, while forcing us to look squarely in the face of prejudice, provoking us to consider the precarious edge of our own teetering.