Marilyn Tompkins Bellert, “What a Waste!”

Elizabethan Costumes: Alternatives to Term Papers

We had choices for our end of semester grades. Big Deal Projects! We could write lengthy research papers or we could create something with our hands that was connected to the English Literature we were studying. In retrospect, Miss Shellenberger was realistic about the talents of her students. She recognized that some students might never write a good research paper, but, she hoped, might build a beautiful and historically accurate scale model of the Globe Theater. (At right, Marilyn; below, Diane)

My friend Diane Rusch and I decided to take a hands-on detour from our usual nose-to-the-grindstone homework. Miss Shellenberger seemed surprised, but she approved our projects: we would research and create Elizabethan costumes. We were both reasonably skilled at sewing and figured that costume-making would enable us to escape the drudgery of more term papers.

In the end, for me at least, this project entailed more time and effort than a research paper, but it was definitely more fun. Research on 17^th century costumes was interesting. Finding fabrics and patterns was relatively easy.

The next thing we had to do was persuade two males to agree to, first, being measured and enduring fittings, and then playing dress-up for our class presentations. No problem. Dick Carlock and John Deardorff were nearly always ready for something that promised entertainment value. Getting Dick to wear tights was, however, a challenge.

Someone tipped off the yearbook photographer, who showed up for our presentations. As you can tell from the photo, Dick and John were having a fine time.

The one-page paper we had to submit with our projects came back with a grade. We both remember being satisfied with the grade itself, but I will never forget the comment Miss Shellenberger wrote on my paper: “As Gilbert and Sullivan said, ‘What a waste! What a waste! What a waste of money and time!”  Ouch.

Diane doesn’t remember a comment on her paper, but she speculates that Miss Shellenberger probably expected us to use our academic brains instead of dodging an opportunity to develop our college skills. I wondered whether she continued to offer hands-on alternatives for high-stakes assignments.

The bottom line: Miss Shellenberger was a superb teacher who taught me to read, think, and write, thus providing me with a lifetime of pleasure in addition to professional career skills.  Besides exploring English authors whom I still love to read, she pointed me toward the extraordinary wit and marvelous music of Gilbert and Sullivan.