Arielle Belluck

Story Pirates and Friends!

Enjoy a family night out benefiting the Geffen Playhouse Story Pirates Play/Write Program. The evening includes a kid-friendly dinner pre-show and unlimited fun! Featuring Conan O’Brien, Patton Oswalt, Nick Offerman and more! More info

AfterDark Show!

Shows for Adults-Only!

Thursday, March 1st 7:00 p.m. at the 92Y Tribeca. In our monthly adults-only show, everything performed is based on a story written by an elementary schooler – from the shame of chronic bedwetting to the tender love between the devil and some guy she met at Starbucks. Tickets!

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"It's Not My Fault"
September 12th, 2009

             Hey, you know, it's not my fault that I forgot my Homework for the fifth time in a row.
              It's my mom's fault because she forgot to put it in my backpack. And Dad forgot too so it's his fault. And it's my sister's fault because she distracted me so I forgot to check. It's Mr. Scurry's fault too because he forgot to remind us that it was due today. And it's not fair because Max and Janet forgot their reading books and didn't get in trouble. (I did too but so what?)
           Mr. Scurry told us to write an entry in our journals,
so here's mine:
          Dear gurnul i hate first grade and i hate evrybudy in the world first grade stinks mister scurry is a fat girl.
          Mr. Scurry had to check it. He put a big red X and sent a note home. He stinks. I'm gonna show you the note now, OK? Don't show anyone.
Mrs. Steinberg,
           Your daughter Lucy has been misbehaving again. She forgot her homework for the fifth time in a row. Then, this morning she wrote in her journal: "Dear journal, I hate first grade and I hate everybody in the world. First grade stinks. Mr. Scurry is a fat girl." This is unacceptable behavior and I hope you will recognize this and talk to her, because she seems unable to listen to me or Principal Jones.
Thank you,
Alfred Scurry
             That night:
             "No! No! No!," I screamed. Even though I'm seven, I still have tantrums. "No! I won't go to time-out! I won't! "
              “Lucy, you will go to your room this minute, or no TV for a week,” my mom said. Her face was the color of fire and her voice was hoarse from yelling.
              "Fine." I went up to my room. My perfect pink room.
              "It's not fair," I said to my toys. "Right", they answered. "It's not fair."
               My room looked like it had been wrecked by a tornado. Dirty clothes littered the floor. My books were thrown on the shelves. The only neat and clean things in the room were my stuffed animals. They were arranged in a circle on the floor around my tea set.
              I buried my face in my pillow to muffle my crying. I couldn't help it. I was rooted there, unable to move a limb. Then...
               "Lucy I'm home!" My dad called. "Lucy! Lucy?"
                My mom shoved the note at him. He read it, and then looked up. "We need a talk," he said.
                 I knew what that meant. They would be going to their bedroom. I rushed to the heating vent to listen to their talk. I lay on the floor and pressed my ear against the vent.
                 Creeek; my mom rocked back and forth in her rocking chair like she always does when she's distressed. It sounded like the old rusty swing in the playground.
                  "What should we do? Lucy didn't used to act this way," she said worriedly. "I don't know," Dad said as he chewed nervously on his fingernails. "What's different about first grade?"
                  Creeek. "Wait, the only thing is that she and Suzie are in the same class this year.”
                  Suzie's my identical twin. She has the same brown hair and blue eyes. We both even punch our chins when we're mad.
                  It's our first year in class together and people keep mixing us up. One time, someone took me instead of Suzie out of class for an extra-hard math thing. It was too difficult and Suzie blamed me for leaving her stuck in “the boring old classroom.”
                 I keep trying to do as well as she does, but it just doesn't work. People keep treating me like I'm bad, so maybe I am.
                The next morning Mom and Dad announced that they would be driving us to school because they had a meeting with the principal. I slinked into class, tail between my legs. I had butterflies in my stomach.
                At morning meeting, Principal Jones pulled me aside to tell me the news. Suzie would be moved to Ms. Plum's class!
                I felt relieved because before I had thought that the only way for me to not get confused with Suzie and be embarrassed was for me to act badly. I changed my mind soon after, but I wasn't confident enough to change what I did. Now I had a reason to act better.
              At recess the next day everyone went outside except me. I stayed at my desk and waited anxiously for Mr. Scurry to notice me. He was sitting at his desk absorbed in correcting spelling tests.
             I studied him. He had a loud checked jacket and a bushy moustache. I glimpsed my paper sitting on his desk. I leaned closer. It had a beautiful green star and I could just make out the words, “Great Job Lucy!”
            After all I did to him, he was still being fair. Just then, he looked up.
           "Lucy, I didn't see you there. Why aren't you out at recess?," he asked.
           "I want to say I'm sorry for acting so badly for the last month," I replied. "I know it's no excuse, but I think that having Suzie in my class embarrassed me and made me act badly."
           He leaned forward and slowly he began to smile.
           "I know exactly how you feel," he said quietly,"because I'm a twin too!"
           "You are?"
           "Yup."
           We talked and talked until recess was over. Then Mr. Scurry walked to the front of the room to hand out the spelling papers, whistling a little bit under his breath. I felt like whistling too.