"Last February I saw a poster hanging on the bulletin board asking for applications for a production of “MacBeth.” The initial inspiration for putting on a full-length classical play had come from a BBC documentary about a production of “The Tempest” in a men’s facility in Kentucky called “Shakespeare Behind Bars.” I was excited and intrigued and terrified. It sounded like so much fun. It sounded like so much work.

In the first group meetings we saw the video of the documentary, we read through the play and we cast parts. I became MacBeth. Discovering how many lines I had, I began to learn my lines immediately. My plan was that by the time the play came around at the end of the year, the lines would be second nature. My poor roommate who indulges my enthusiasms began to help me every lunch break. We hammered a scene a week (and some long monologues) into my head for five acts.

My lines were going in and staying in, but we were rapidly losing players. There were several scenes we never rehearsed with the same people. My Lady MacBeth changed. We never seemed to have all three witches available together. Duncan has perpetual PMS and Banquo had a job that excused her from all rehearsals.

We had a mandatory meeting and decided we would move forward with everyone, excluding MacBeth, playing multiple roles. The play performance date was set. A twice-weekly rehearsal schedule was set. We were set. I invited all the staff, volunteers and civilian employees I knew to attend. We had a couple of focused and energetic rehearsals where everyone was present and then catastrophe struck.

We lost several more players, which put us well below the bare minimum of people needed to perform even a truncated version of “MacBeth” and we had lost two critical rehearsal sessions. Consequently, the play was cancelled.

The group however, decided to continue and to create a play on trying to put on a performance of “MacBeth.” I wasn’t interested in putting on a “process play.” I wanted to do “MacBeth.” I had signed up for “MacBeth” and I wanted no part in this other business. I determined to quit and informed the group of my decision.

Wisely they did not urge me to rethink my decision with logical arguments nor did they try to change my mind with feel good platitudes. Instead they went on about their work.

They had written interesting personal monologues that played on their roles and the themes of “MacBeth.” They presented their pieces and discussed their vision for this new project. Their work filled my head with ideas that I had to explore. Meekly I returned to the next rehearsal ready to work with and learn from my peers.

Disillusionment, discouragement and disappointment are powerful forces in our lives. In my youth I passively accepted them as “It’ll all work out,” or “It’s for the best.” Then I became angry and guilt-stricken and stumped by failures. You can try so hard and still fail. It is immensely painful to work for something with whole-hearted dedication and still miss the mark. And it is sound and proper to be angry and grieve for dashed hopes and dreams, but as I am beginning to discover, broken hopes and dreams can also let new light and air into stale thinking.

When disillusionment strikes it can be an opportunity to become cynical or to grow in wisdom. When discouragement strikes, it is an opportunity to examine our motivations and efforts as a chance to build a better foundation. When disappointment strikes, we can wallow in self-pity or rethink our expectations and goals. Yes, I learned five acts of “MacBeth” for nothing – but not for nothing. It’s not such a bad thing as a wannabe writer to have a headful of Shakespeare, and it has restored my confidence in my ability to memorize large amounts of material. In my 40s, I have accomplished that which I could not at 15 – that into itself renews my hope.

We can give up, quit, because we don’t get to play the part in life we signed up for or we can start fresh and, with the love and support of friends and family, write for ourselves a new part." (Elizabeth Haysom, Fluvanna Review, November 15, 2007)

Elizabeth Haysom is incarcerated at the Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women, in Troy, Virginia (ten miles east of Charlottesville). Her columns appear monthly under the general title, Glimpses from Inside. Here is an index to these columns.