To Mr. B. With Love
For more than 40 years, Ron Bright has been teaching theater arts, but his greatest lesson is ‘believe in yourself’
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Shanahan says it was Mr. B who got him up on stage.
“I was a trombone player in the band and I went to audition for the orchestra in a production,” says Shanahan. “Mr. B tried to talk me into singing something. I’d never sung anything before. He cast me in Damn Yankees in 1994, and I had such a good time I pursued it in college.”
More than just a good director or voice coach, Bright has a longstanding reputation for bringing out talent his students (and even their parents) never knew they had.
Bright recalls a student he once had who thought he was too tough to participate in theatre.
“He acted like he was going to leave the class,” laughs Bright. “I told him, ‘Rick, I need a bush. Paint me a bush for this one scene.’
“He told me, ‘I can’t paint.’So I said, ‘Just paint me a bush!’ So he did, and today he’s the best scenic artist in the state with his own company, Theatre Design and Production.”
Bright always rejoices in the successes of his students.
“My life has been wrapped up in other people’s lives and I guess it doesn’t end,” he says. “My students move my life.”
Bright remembers every story, too. He points to pictures on the wall of his Castle High School office — though he retired from teaching there in 1993, he stays on to direct fifth- to eighth-grade students from nine Windward schools — and tells MidWeek’s reporter their name, their spouse’s name, how many children they have and what they’re doing today.
Bright started as an actor himself. His senior year at Hilo High School, his English teacher asked him to play Jim, the runaway slave, in a production of Huckleberry Finn.
He loved theatre, but knew it might not be a logical choice as a career so he took business classes, thinking he might become a CPA. But he had been bitten by the theatre bug.
He came to University of Hawaii at Manoa and got his degree in education while cultivating his talents on stage for the Honolulu Theatre for Youth and as a regular cast member on a weekly local TV show, Campus Canteen.
Once Bright became a teacher, he found new love in being a director. There was a kind of excitement in making his students feel good about their own talents.
No matter how gifted his students have been over the years, however, Bright says he’s never told someone that they had what it took to “make it big.”
“Instead, I’ve always told them to believe in themselves.”
That mantra, wrapped up in a song from the musical, The Wiz, has become a familiar tune to those directed by Bright, who began his teaching career at Castle High in 1957. “We sing it before every performance we have,” he says. “In fact, it’s the last number we’ll do at the Paliku fundraiser.”
Bright, who retired from the National Guard as a first sergeant after 35 years of service, sings a little bit of If You Believe out loud:
“‘If you believe within your heart you’ll know, that no one can change the path that you must go. Believe what you feel and know you’re right … Believe in yourself right from the start; believe in the magic right there in your heart … Just believe in yourself as I believe in you.’
“That’s from me to my students,” he says. “They have all my encouragement always.”
Bright is the difference between just cultivating talent and cultivating strong, mature adults.
“He’s touched hundreds of his students and prevented so many from going down the wrong path,” says Leong.
Leong has appeared in numerous local productions over the years including A Chorus Line, Flower Drum Song and the annual Gridiron show.
“I registered for drama when I was a freshman in high school, and ever since then he’s been my mentor and second dad. He taught me much more than just dancing, singing and acting on a stage. He taught me the value of teamwork, of setting goals, achieving them, and the value of family and friendship through his example. He still has a huge impact on my life.”
You could talk to every one of Bright’s students and they’d likely express similar sentiments. From a professional standpoint Bright’s students are always prepared and respectful.
“We have technicians who run our shows at Paliku who are still students at Castle High School and they walk into our doors knowing more than some professionals I’ve worked with in my life,” says Holowach. “They’re smarter and have a greater sense of responsibility.”
Bright, a mix of Portuguese, Hawaiian and English, says he sometimes has to remind kids where the ground is. That’s how they know respect and humility.
He’s had three, going on four generations of young artists grow up and move on now. His wife, Moira, has been his biggest supporter over the years, pitching in wherever she could, and his three children, Michael, Clarke and Jodi are all “musical” he says. (They’re all teachers like Bright is too.) Bright also has four grandchildren, including one grandson who plays percussion in the Castle productions orchestra.
But all the students who know Mr. B feel a part of his extended family.
“I want to teach kids to be good citizens,” says Bright. “I want them to love themselves, their families, their venue, their art. You have to embrace kids and really care about them.”
When Paliku Theatre was built, it afforded Bright not only another venue to direct in, but another link in an artistic continuum.
“I love that we brought the elementary school kids to the Castle Performing Arts Center and now the high school kids have a place to do theatre after high school. It’s a great transition. And if you feel good about this art and you want to continue, you’ve gotta go to Windward Community College.”
Bright tells his students to work hard and never give up, and it seems to have paid off in more ways than one.
At 71, Bright is still as charged as ever. Some say he has the energy of 10 people put together.
In fact, he wiggles in his seat as he talks with MidWeek, looking as if at any moment he might spring off the chair and break into a production number.
There’s no handshake for this reporter; Mr. B is all about big hugs. He embraces me like we’re old friends. And when I thank him for the interview, he turns around and thanks me for being gracious and for laughing as we talked.
As we walk outside the Castle Performing Arts Center, Mr. B bounds down the stairs into the sunshine.
“Like I said,” he jokes. “I don’t sit, I dance. That’s just how it is.”
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