Session Six: Week 7



One of the ensemble members who recently joined the group took me aside and told me that she wanted to make sure I know that she has very bad anxiety and stage fright, and that’s why she’s been hanging back a bit. I assured her that we’ve had many people over the years who’ve worked through those challenges and accomplished a lot, and I suggested that she push herself just a bit out of her comfort zone rather than feeling pressure to dive in like many of the others. I also suggested that she let the group know how she’s feeling so that they will understand why she’s reticent, rather than anyone wrongfully assuming that she’s not dedicated or interested in the work. She did talk to the group, and they were, of course, very sympathetic.

We worked through several scenes tonight. When discussing Act Three Scene Two, in which Hastings ignores a warning from Lord Stanley and boasts about the execution of his enemies, we paused to analyze what all of this means. “It’s ironic that Hastings is so happy about the executions because he’s going to die,” said one woman. We decided that the reason there’s so much repetition in the scene is to make sure we’re set up for Hastings’ impending downfall. A woman who worked on Othello last year remarked, “It’s like all of those people saying ‘honest, honest Iago.’”

Act One Scene Three was pretty straightforward and didn’t engender discussion beyond clarifying the plot. In our brief discussion of Act Three Scene Four, one of the women remarked, “We have a Ratcliffe here. She’s a henchwoman.”

When the majority of the group decided to play an improv game, I took aside the woman who confided in me that she’s bored and gave her some additional resources about the history behind the play. She was pleased and excited to do the extra reading.

I then went to the back of the room with a longtime ensemble member who wanted to read me an essay she had written about her life. It is a powerful piece, describing intense trauma that she experienced as a child and the following self-destructive choices she made, culminating in the crime for which she is incarcerated. She also wrote about her journey in prison toward healing. When she finished reading, she began to cry, talking about how hard it is to revisit these old wounds, but how much writing about them helps. She emphatically stated that the reason she’s been able to do this is her involvement in our group. Being able to explore so much through the characters, learning about storytelling, gaining confidence and self-esteem, and learning how to more constructively express herself and manage conflict has been a game changer for her. She is nearly ready to share her experiences widely and make some kind of impact, hopefully with young girls facing the same challenges she faced.

This ensemble member has come a very long way from when I first met her. “I don’t think you can understand how much this has meant to me,” she said. “This group has changed me. You are my inspiration.”

“There could be no higher honor,” I replied. “This is what we hope the program can do for everyone. And I want you to know that you inspire me, too. Nearly every time I talk about the group, I mention you. You’ve grown so much.”

It was an intense but rewarding conversation. I am so thrilled that she’s taken these steps toward healing, and so honored that she’s shared so many details of her journey with me.




We began tonight with Act Three Scene Five, in which Richard and Buckingham begin their manipulation of those around them to give Richard the crown. Our discussion of the scene centered on the Lord Mayor, who is handily played.

“I picture him chubby and dumb as a brick,” said one woman. “He must be a wuss,” said another. “You can’t make that judgment,” said a woman who’s been in the group for several years.  Kyle observed that the mayor could be reading between the lines. “I picture him as the Monopoly guy,” said one member. “Or the Mayor of the Munchkins,” said another.

A newer member suggested that the mayor acts the way he does because he doesn’t want Richard to hold anything against him later. After all, he is confronted by Hastings’ disembodied head in this scene. “I would run and get the hell out of Tewkesbury,” joked one woman.

Why do they fetch the doctor and the preacher, we pondered? A note in the Arden version of the play (which we use as a resource) says that these two were vocal advocates for Richard. “It’s like bringing your mom to court,” said one woman.

We moved on to Act Three Scene Six, in which a Scrivener tells the audience about how obviously false the proclamation against Hastings is. The scene is very brief. Why is it here, we asked? “This is where the story unfolds,” said one woman. “It’s getting us up to date, like the scene with the citizens,” said another.

“This is the first person to say it’s a fraud,” Kyle remarked. “Who’s he really talking to?” asked an ensemble member. “He wouldn’t talk to anyone who could say he’s the traitor.”

“Shakespeare does this all the time,” said a longtime member. Kyle added that when characters speak to the audience, they’re involving them without the possibility that they could impact the action of the play. “He’s speaking for everyone there,” said a newer member.

We moved on to Act Three Scene Seven, in which Richard and Buckingham again manipulate those around them and ultimately gain the throne for Richard. “It’s so slimy,” said one woman. The woman who played Iago last year mused, “Sometimes I think I like Richard better than Iago. Richard at least brings people into it – Iago acted by himself. Mad props to Richard – he gets people on his side.”

Another woman agreed. “Iago lied and tricked people – Richard gets people to work with him.” The first woman added, “The motives are different, too. Iago was doing it out of ambition and spite. Richard wants power.” The second woman asked, “Do you think because he’s a lord, he’s used to having people do things for him?” The first woman nodded her head, saying, “He’s entitled.”

Another woman from last year’s group said, “I think Iago’s more personal – he knows people’s weaknesses and digs deep into their souls and feelings. He plays specific people against others. Richard’s like, ‘Off with their head. If you’re not with me, you’re dead.’ Everybody hates Richard. When he does things, it’s obvious. Iago tricked people – Richard just has them killed.”

Richard’s physical deformity came up again. “It could be a body image thing,” said one woman. “Maybe he doesn’t look that bad to other people.”

We returned to the comparison with Iago. Kyle mentioned the contempt with which Iago held Cassio, and one of last year’s members chimed in, “Prattle without practice!” That’s a direct quote from the play, and evidence that it’s not just me who gets the language stuck in her head!

The discussion continued. I returned to the opening soliloquy and asked the group if they feel that, based on that language, Richard is bored and doesn’t fit in well in peace time. We mused on that a bit. Then the conversation turned personal.

“Sometimes I do want power,” said one woman. “I do things just to see if I could. There are things I want to accomplish. I’m not sure Richard wants to accomplish anything. As far as him being bored, I get that.” Another woman added, “He just wants to be somebody.”

“How tall was he? Maybe he had a Napoleon complex,” volunteered one woman. “He’s got a complex for sure,” responded the woman who posited that he wants to be somebody. “Do you think he got what he wanted in the end? I mean here we are talking about him. He’s somebody.”

I suggested that we refrain from judging Richard in black and white terms – that we will be better served by analyzing him as a multi-faceted human being. Several group members remarked how similar that is to how they feel about being judged.

“As felons, we bring a different view to this,” said one woman. “We know each other and ourselves… Society has thrown us way. You see things with us you otherwise wouldn’t see. Other people in society don’t understand. I look at friends who are drug addicts and see what led them there. The judging of character is a slippery slope. We’re gonna go out there and get judged, too.”

“Us judging them is like someone looking at our files,” said another woman.

“I’m stuck on what you said,” said another member to the first woman. “We’re all something to that effect, but in here I’ll never know you as that drug addict robber. To me you’re not.”

The first woman agreed. “Here I’m another person because we’re all on that level. But when I go home, I have to check that. For those of us that are going home soon, we have to remember that. But don’t forget who you are in here.”

The woman to whom this was a response said, “If we want people to know the real us, we have to be the real us.”

“The world is so judgmental,” said a longtime ensemble member. “If it’s not us as prisoners, it’s gonna be somebody else – lesbian, etc. If I wasn’t here, and I was posting pictures on social media, people would be saying something. In here, we have the opportunity to share who we really are.”

“We’re more than our crimes,” said another woman. Another added, “What we did yesterday is yesterday. It’s where you go from here.”

Kyle asked what would happen if they met Richard in prison. “Oh, we have,” said one woman, and everyone laughed. “We know Richards and reformed Richards,” said another. Kyle asked if there is hope that all Richards can be reformed. The group pondered this.

“I don’t want to be in the mix of the ghosts,” joked one woman. “When you’re around them, you realize they’re different,” one woman said more seriously. The first woman continued, “Some people use Richard as a character to keep up a wall.”

One woman talked about finding a good place to sit in the day room, and what she’d do if the only seat was near a Richard. “If Richard is respectful, I’ll sit there all day next to him.”

“We form preconceived notions, but we find out she’s pretending to be a Richard because of her situation,” said the woman who talked about Richard being used to keep up a wall.

Another woman said, “The Richard in my unit doesn’t like people who see her as Richard. She’ll plot against you… If you play the game and let her run the show, then you’re okay.” Another woman knew whom she was talking about. “She scares me,” she said. “I’ve seen the things she’s done to people, and I’m like, you can have it.” Kyle responded that that sounds a lot like the mayor.

“Sometimes if we don’t know better, we don’t do better,” said one woman.

Another woman remarked that someone serving a life sentence is more likely to be a Richard. This was met with some pushback. “If they’ve spent their whole lives here, it’s gonna change them,” said one woman. “You just don’t know what they’ve been through.”

Our conversation lasted until the very last minute of our meeting. We ended on a positive note, despite the disagreement over lifers being more likely to be Richards. Everyone is excited to continue the discussion next week.

Session Six: Week 6



Tonight during our check in, one of our new participants shared that her daughter, inspired by her work in Shakespeare, has begun acting at her school. Her daughter was excited about someday working on lines with her mother, and this ensemble member beamed as she told us.

We continued our reading of the play, beginning with Act II, scene i, in which a dying Edward IV makes peace between fighting lords and is informed about his brother Clarence’s death. Our big question was: do they mean what they say when they make this peace? “I would still be suspicious,” said one woman. We talked about all of the factions and betrayals in the Wars of the Roses. “This is like… Wednesday to them,” said one participant.

We moved on to Act II, scene ii, in which Clarence’s children, the Duchess of York, and Queen Elizabeth mourn their losses – and Richard and Buckingham put the wheels in motion to kidnap the young prince and take power for themselves.

We talked about how easily people are manipulated in this scene, and throughout the play. “Richard would have to have weak people around to do his bidding. He wouldn’t want strong people around,” reflected one woman.

“I feel like Shakespeare was in prison,” observed another woman. “All this is the same shit we go through all the time – the intrigue, the lies, the people, nobody taking responsibility for their own actions…”

We were tired of sitting still by this point and got up to play a circle game. This proved to be a welcome break.

I went over to a couple of longtime ensemble members and asked how they were doing. “I feel like I haven’t gotten to talk to you very much,” I said. “There are just so many more people in the group than usual!” They said it’s okay, and that it is a good thing to have such a large group. We’ve never seen this many people join and then stick with it!

Then one of our newer members mentioned that she has been having a little trouble keeping up. We discussed some ideas of how to make this easier, since others said they were also having trouble. One ensemble member suggested that everyone read the entire play in contemporary English and then in the original language. Another reassured the newer members, saying, “We’re going to go through this so many times by June, you’ll know it by heart. I can still quote the handkerchief scene [from Othello] and I wasn’t even in it.”

Another returning member said, “We’re just as lost right now as you are. With Othello, we were confused, and now I could tell you the story beginning to end without looking.”

A woman who has been in the group for four years talked about how putting the play on its feet will lead to a deeper understanding. “All the emotions come,” she said. “It’s like a supernatural power.”

In the end, we agreed to stop more frequently during our reading to make sure everyone is keeping up to speed. I will also be bringing in a scene-by-scene synopsis of the play for those who do not have time to read much outside of our meetings. This seems like a good compromise.




Tonight began with a question from a new member of the group about how we handle casting. I responded that we’ve tried a different method each year – that we have been able to do it via discussion some years, by anonymous voting another year, and last year with casual auditions followed by anonymous voting. I mentioned that each of these methods have proved to be problematic in some way, and we’re always open to new ideas. “I like the voting,” said one woman who was in the group last year. “It avoids ganging up and hurting feelings.” Another returning member said that she thought the facilitators should do the casting. I responded that this has the potential to be very problematic, as it would change the dynamic in the group and go against our policy of avoiding a hierarchy as much as possible.

We decided to leave the topic for now, and someone suggested that as we move through the play, we begin by reading the scene synopsis and then reading the Shakespeare. This idea was embraced by everyone.

We began with Act II, scene iii, in which three citizens discuss the death of Edward IV and their mistrust of Richard. There was a pause after the reading. “What do you think about this scene?” I asked. “I think we can cut the whole thing,” responded one participant.

“We probably can,” I said, as others nodded their heads. “But why is the scene in the play? We need to understand that before we make the decision to get rid of it.”

“Is it like a subliminal message? In the background?” asked one woman. “It’s what the people are saying,” said another. “But why is it important to hear what they’re saying?” I pushed.

“I see a motion picture,” said one participant, “where stuff’s going on, and then… It’s like when the newspaper spins, and they’re out on the street, and we see this conversation.” The first woman exclaimed, “Yes! That’s what I meant.”

The question arose of whether we might be able to do something creative with the scene rather than cutting it completely. A longtime member said, “The play shows what this scene is all about. We can cut it.” Another said, “I don’t think it’s gonna hurt or help.” We will revisit the issue when we are more familiar with the play.

We moved on through Act II, scene iv, and then to Act III, scene i. The former didn’t engender much discussion, but the latter did.

We explored the idea that Prince Edward could not claim sanctuary because of his inability to make informed, adult decisions. We were divided on whether or not this is fair, and whether or not the characters in the play grasp what’s going on. “If they didn’t want to kill him, they wouldn’t want to get him out of sanctuary,” one woman pointed out.

We then discussed the back and forth between Richard and the princes. Someone commented that the scene has a lot of wordplay and is fairly long. “It shows their relationship – our uncle picks on us a little bit,” said one woman. “He’s a bastard,” said another about Richard. “He knows he’s going to kill him.”

We talked about the way in which the children interact with Richard – they seem to lack respect. “I think it’s a reflection of what the kids hear from their parents – they have no respect for [Richard] at all,” said one person. Another observed, “You know how boys are. They didn’t like to be called little.”

The conversation shifted to Richard’s promise to Buckingham, with which, of course, he does not follow through. “Poor guy,” I said, “He chose the wrong side.” That got some push back from several ensemble members. “It’s karma,” said one. “What goes around comes around.”

As the group moved into an improv game, I sat down with the woman who’d gotten so upset during the game last Friday and had been absent Tuesday. I asked her to tell me what’s going on – she’s seemed restless and upset a lot. “I’m just bored,” she said. “This play isn’t that interesting to me. Othello was so opaque, and this play is transparent.” I said that they are very different plays – that this play isn’t on the same level in terms of complexity. “We need to find you a way in,” I said. “Is there anything that interests you in the play?” She said that she is interested in Richard himself, and I suggested that she focus on that. I encouraged her to read ahead in the play – even to read it multiple times, since we’re moving too slowly for her in our group reading. “Then you can be the expert in the room – the mentor,” I said. She also said that she is interested in the history, and I promised to find more in-depth historical background for her to read up on. We promised to keep communicating with each other, and she seemed to feel a lot better after our conversation, even joining in the game.

It can be very difficult to strike the right balance when working with people from such diverse backgrounds, with so many different learning styles. We try our best to make everyone happy, but sometimes our compromises leave people feeling unsatisfied. I hope that this woman will enjoy the group more with her new approach, and I’m going to keep an eye on it to make sure we don’t lose her along the way.

Session Five: Week 41



Everyone arrived tonight ready and calm for our final show. Again, the ensemble worked together as a team to help each other through the rough spots and gave it their all. The woman who had been very upset last week nailed her scenes this week and clearly felt much better.

Once again, our audience gave us a standing ovation. It was well-earned, and put a nice stop on the performance part of our process. I distributed completion certificates and urged everyone to attend our final meeting on Friday, when we’ll discuss the program in general – what’s going well, and what needs improvement.




A good number of our ensemble members were present tonight to assess this year’s program, and those who weren’t present sent along their greetings and intentions to continue the program next year.

One of the issues brought up by the group was the “messiness” of our performances. Everyone agrees that this is due to inadequate rehearsal, caused mainly by absences and early departures. Some feel that there is also not enough structure. Our solution to this is to come up with a stricter attendance policy in the fall, to bump up our casting date to November (which we are hoping will be aided by next year’s use of the “No Feare” Richard III), and to have a rehearsal schedule of sorts so that people can make sure they are present when their scenes are being worked.

Due to those absences, we were not able to spend very much time on ensemble building during the rehearsal phase of our process. The group feels that we need to bring that back, and we hope that the solutions outlined above will make it so we have more time for group activities.

I then asked the group for an honest appraisal of the facilitators’ work. I anticipated constructive criticism, but the ensemble had nothing but praise to heap on us. They are incredibly grateful for our enthusiasm and commitment, and for the respect that we show them. “You made me feel like a human being,” said one woman.

One of the ensemble members, who had a very rough time this year, expressed her thanks to the group for sticking with her and helping her through. “It was an honor that you shared all of that with us,” said one woman. “You helped us, too.”

I asked the group how our pilot program with student facilitators worked. They expressed enthusiasm for this new aspect of our program. “New people on our side are unusual,” said one ensemble member. “It’s part of our escape.” Another woman said, “We’re helping them more than they’re helping us. That makes me feel better.”

The group then launched into an open discussion about the program, which wound its way back to facilitator feedback. A woman who has been in the group for four years got very emotional, saying, “I think everyone has a ‘better person.’” She looked at me. “You are my better person… I feel like you’re raising me. No one raised me at home. I’ve changed because of you.” I expressed what an honor it is for me to be that person for her, and my deep appreciation of everything she brings to the group.

Another woman said that she appreciates the way we model the handling of conflict and criticism. “We deal with real life situations in real life ways.”

Another woman specifically spoke about having Kyle in the group. “Guys are nice,” she said, becoming tearful. “They’re not all sleaze balls. They’re not all tricks… I used to think, am I ever going to be able to look at men and not see something sick inside of them? But Kyle’s just a normal guy, and it gives me hope for my future. If I hadn’t had you as a male around me, I wouldn’t have been able to grow like I have, for my life on the outside. I’m gonna be normal again, and it’s gonna be okay.”

We left feeling positive and excited to come back together after our summer break. I can’t wait.


Session Five: Week 40



Our second performance showed incredible progress for the ensemble. People had clearly been reviewing their lines, and the result was a more “accurate” and smoother performance.

The ensemble received another standing ovation, which was well deserved! Nearly everyone left feeling very good about what we had accomplished.

One member of the ensemble was very upset because her scenes hadn’t gone as well as others. After some encouragement from facilitators and one of our guests, she appeared to feel a bit better.




After an extended check in, we launched into a discussion about our second performance and the group in general.

One ensemble member shared that she had been upset following the first performance – lines were so all over the place that she hadn’t felt safe on stage. She then shared that she had not felt safe to share how upset she was with the group because we seemed opposed to any negative feedback. Everyone agreed that we need to do a better job of welcoming every viewpoint, and that people who do have negative feedback simply need to choose words that are respectful rather than inflammatory.

I had suggested that we work on some of the scenes that had been tripping us up, and an ensemble member shared that this was upsetting to her because we hadn’t worked on them last week. We then realized that the reason one of the scenes seemed more than a little messy to me was that everyone in the scene had met separately and made cuts which they’d forgotten to give to me. We made sure that everyone in the group had the cuts.

We then talked about the mixed reactions that the performances have been getting. Although both received enthusiastic applause at the end, some people have heard negative feedback; some people who saw last year’s show felt that this year’s wasn’t as good. Others thought it was our best yet. The ensemble feels that the second performance was definitely better, and, in the end, we are holding tight to the feeling that we’re doing good work together.

We then talked about our group dynamic. The messiness of these performances has a lot to do with absences and early departures from the group, and we concluded that we need to set a stricter attendance policy going forward. We also talked about how we handle confrontation – how we can learn from it even when it makes us uncomfortable.

Ultimately, everyone agreed that they are learning a lot and having a positive experience. We left things on a positive note, ready for our final performance next week. 

Session Five: Week 39



Tonight was our first performance. Everyone arrived with wonderful, positive energy. Several of them remarked that they were surprised not to feel very nervous, while others were buzzing with nerves. We all worked together to set up props, costumes, our set pieces, and the sound equipment.

As we gathered to bring down our ring, we all spoke aloud the energy that we were putting into it. Teamwork. Fun. Positivity. Confidence. Strength. And on.

Our audience stuck with us through the entire performance. In the past, audience members have sometimes left early, but not this year. Although the play didn’t always go exactly as we planned, our audience’s reactions were proof that they recognized the hard work being done; the challenge undertaken; the power of the ensemble to buoy each other through any mistake. We received a loud standing ovation at the play’s end.

The hiccups in performance were sometimes obvious, and sometimes not. The ensemble banded together to make it through, even when lines were skipped, or the audience laughed at a serious moment, or an entrance was missed, or a prop was off stage when it should have been on.

We have had challenges in the last few months with casting and attendance of those playing the lead characters, and so parts of our play are definitely under-rehearsed. That didn’t stop us from plowing through them, faking it when we had to, and feeding people lines and blocking from the wings.

Even with these challenges, or perhaps because of them, the performance is an important part of our process. If the performance had been perfect, there would have been fewer opportunities to “save” one another, which affirms the trust we’ve put into every member of the ensemble.




For the past few years, we’ve always performed in back to back meetings, with no opportunity to debrief in detail between performances. This year, though, due to scheduling conflicts in the auditorium, we are not able to perform on Fridays. The group decided to meet between performances, and tonight was one of those nights.

As people arrived, they shared the positive reactions we had gotten from our audience. One woman remarked how amazing it was that our audience stayed through to the end. Another shared that people to whom she spoke said that even when they didn’t understand it, they enjoyed it – and, she said, “It was the little mistakes that made it for them.” Someone had said to her, “At first I didn’t understand, but then I started to get it.”

Our Othello shared that although she had been so nervous the week before, prior to and during the performance she didn’t feel nervous at all. “I was totally mellow,” she said.

In private conversation before most people were there, a longtime ensemble memberhad shared with me and another longtime member that she felt the performance was “horrible,” and she felt that after nine months it should have been better. I asked her if maybe using a less inflammatory word would serve her better. I said that I didn’t feel it had been horrible – that it had been “messy,” and that that had its own value in terms of the many opportunities it provided for us to problem solve together. She agreed that perhaps another word would be better.

A third longtime ensemble member had overheard this conversation, and during our group discussion suggested that using words like “horrible” can be hurtful to people and perhaps disrespectful. The woman who had used that word jumped in, stating that she was entitled to her opinion and should be able to be honest about it.  “You can be honest and use different words,” the first woman said, but unfortunately things escalated very quickly and the two began snapping and yelling at each other. At a certain point I was able to make my voice heard, suggesting that this was not constructive and needed to stop.

The group then addressed the messiness of the performance. The bottom line, most people felt, is that we did our best, and our audience enjoyed it. “If you do your best and put the work in,” said one woman, “You’ll get better results each time.” Kyle reminded the group that the performance is the tip of a very big iceberg – that the nine-month process has been extremely meaningful, and that’s where our focus should be.

Another woman said, “It’s no secret that if we were in a Broadway show, we’d all be fired.” We all laughed. “But we’re not,” she continued, “And I consider it a successful disaster. There’s not much we get to enjoy, but we did that and can be proud of it.” She then shared with us that a particularly ornery woman who “enjoys nothing” told her that she had enjoyed the show. “We did that,” she said again. “It was our disaster.”

Another woman said jokingly, “All I know is I brought a sword to the sword fight this time.” Everyone laughed.

“You know,” said one woman who was new to the group this year, “Last year when I saw the show, I forgot I was in prison for awhile. You could have screwed up all day, and I would have felt like I wasn’t here. Don’t be hard on us or on each other.”

Our Desdemona reminded us all that, with all of the mistakes, there had been moments of undeniable power. “The slap brought people almost to tears,” she said, stating that a woman to whom she spoke said she “felt like she really had been there, as a woman.”

We distributed and took an end-of-year survey, following which the woman who had a problem with the use of the word “horrible” stood up and informed me that she wouldn’t be coming back. I asked her if I could speak with her in the hall. She agreed. I encouraged her to share everything that was on her mind. She and the woman with whom she’d had the spat have a history, and although they are both dedicated to the group, they rarely speak – and when they do, it tends to be contentious. I reminded her that none of us are perfect and all of us are growing; that I understood why she had a problem with that word, but that I had already spoken to the woman who said it about adjusting, and that that’s a learned skill.

They are both truly valuable to the ensemble, and I reminded her of that. I said that there are likely to be people whom one doesn’t like in any working environment, and while these two don’t have to be friends or even like each other, we need to find a way for them to be civil. She agreed, said she would be back Tuesday, and left for the evening.

I came back in to the group playing improv games, which was a great way to dispel the tension that the argument had brought on. The woman who felt the performance was “horrible” approached me at the end of the meeting. “Do you think I handled myself well?” she asked. “Come on,” I said, smiling, “You know you didn’t.” She asked me why I hadn’t stepped in earlier, and I told her that since the two of them were yelling and interrupting each other, they couldn’t hear Kyle and me at first. I had essentially the same conversation with her that I had had with the other woman. I also spoke more with her about semantics – that one doesn’t have to “sugarcoat” criticism, but can find ways to express honest opinions that aren’t hurtful.

“I’m going to think on this. I’m still learning,” she said. And she really is – she’s come a long way in four years, which I told her. But we all still having some growing to do.