Behind every song, there is a story – and we intend to share them.
Put quite plainly; my grade six teacher was the best.
Anna Arcuri was this loud, obnoxious and crazy woman, and unlike anyone I had met before as a 12-year-old. She literally was just like a big kid. She would play pranks on us, dance with us and let us play capture the flag until it was time to go home.
As corny as it is to say, she wasn’t just our teacher, she was our friend.
Probably my favourite memory of her was when we started to write our grade six end of year performance.
It was a big deal for us kids, we had a point to prove.
You see, our school, Tarrawingee Primary, was tiny. Minuscule in fact; only nine kids strong. As such, we had to be adjoined to another, larger school for monetary support. That school was Chisholm Street Primary.
They were like our mortal enemies. Not because they were mean kids, or because they picked on us. It was purely because, well, a kid has to have a mortal enemy, right? (If only for the fun of it…).
We hated doing stuff with those kids, and we ALWAYS had to do stuff with them. From sports days to library fairs, every ‘school outing’ was spent with the Chisholm Street clan. One particular ‘school outing’ the Tarra kids hated partaking in was the end of year performance. Somehow, the Chisholm Street kids’ show was always funnier, smarter and more entertaining than our.
So this year was going to be different. We were going to blow them out of the park with our end of year number; a modern retelling of Cinderella.
Ok, so it wasn’t an original idea by any means, but we thought it was the bee’s knees.
We would spend hours of our school day writing the script for play, sacrificing maths and grammar lessons for witty one-liners and crafty plot twists.
The climactic crescendo of the story was the tense ‘fight scene’ in the palace night club (like I said, it was a ‘modern’ retelling of the story. How could it not include a fight in a night club?)
In this scene, Cinderella (myself), was being fought over by the sleazy club owner and Prince Charming. The two rivals were battling it out on the dance floor, to the extremely apt soundtrack of Sophie Ellis Bextor’s Murder on the Dancefloor.
It was poetry in motion.
Unfortunately, we never got to perform this theatrical masterpiece for a public audience, in fact, we never even finished the script. You see, Ms Arcuri’s father sadly and suddenly passed away before our performance. In her absence, we went with something a little bit more simpler. This.
Yes, it’s upsetting that we never got to perform that scene. But I relive it every time I listen to this song.