Ms. Bommarito Is Teachers’ Choice for 2020 Millman Award

Ms. Bommarito’s drama room is lined with theater props and Midwood memorabilia. Photo: Sarah Cen & Damali Ramirez

Ms. Bommarito’s classroom is lined with theater props and Midwood memorabilia. Photo: Sarah Cen & Damali Ramirez

By LISA FARLEY

Ms. Liz Bommarito, an English and drama teacher, has won Midwood’s 2020 Sidney Millman Award. Ms. Bommarito, who has been teaching for 23 years, was chosen by her colleagues as the teacher that “best represents excellence in the noble art of teaching.” She sat down with us virtually for an interview. 

What was your first teaching experience like?

Oh, it was scary. I left a really nice job in the city to do it. I started out as a substitute, but the school said they’d hire me officially in September. It was really scary to go from a permanent job with benefits to being a substitute, worried that the school would keep their word. But I wanted to become a teacher. 

I stayed up all night one night writing lesson plans. I called up this girl I went to college with because I knew she had just gotten a teaching job. She walked me through the whole thing, and I thought, “Okay, great. Now I know what I’m doing.” 

I showed up to the school with my little folder and all my lesson plans handwritten out. The assistant principal said hi and introduced me to the kids, then just walked out of the class. I panicked, thinking, “Oh my god, she left me alone with these kids. What am I going to do?” 

I couldn’t show the panic, but inside I was losing it. I told them to take out their notebooks while I was writing the aim and the Do Now on the chalkboard. I thought, “I got it going now.” I’m filling the board with notes, page in one hand, chalk in the other. But when I finished, I turned around and the kids were all just staring at the board.

I said, “Why aren’t you guys writing anything?” and they said, “We can’t read that, Miss. It’s in script. We don’t know how to read script [cursive handwriting].” I had to erase the board and rewrite everything in print. 

Before that day, I hadn’t written in print since the 3rd grade. My print was horrendous! But now, 23 years later, my print is really neat and my script is terrible because I don’t use it anymore.

It was very scary, that very first day. No one warns you!

How did you end up teaching drama?

Early in my career, I knew I liked plays when I was teaching Shakespeare. I was in a [different] school where there was no drama program. I went up to the principal, not knowing the first thing about it, and asked, “Can I do a school play?” He said, “Do you know how to do that?” I said, “No, I don’t, but I’m willing to try.” There was nobody else who wanted to do it, so I said, “How about you let me try it, we’ll see what you think, and we’ll go from there?” And the rest is history.

What was your initial reaction when you heard that you won the Sidney Millman Excellence in Teaching Award?

I was surprised! But I also felt recognized. You know, you walk around the building every day and you don’t think anybody sees you. So for people to have gone out of their way during a pandemic, during remote teaching, to cast a vote for me…

You think you live an anonymous life, so it doesn’t dawn on you until a student calls your name out on the street that you realize that you’re known. So I was surprised but also happy to feel seen, and to know that my name is now on the bulletin board downstairs, engraved on a gold plaque.

What was a memorable moment in your teaching career?

Oh goodness, I only get to pick one?

A couple years ago, one of my students, Josephine Mammoliti, who had been doing plays with me since freshman year, said she wanted to do a duet with me for her senior year. At that time, we were doing Broadway reviews. I said, “I’m not getting on stage, I’m a behind-the-scenes person.” She said, “No, no, it’s my senior year and we’re doing a song together.” She wanted to do a song from Wicked. She had everything planned out!

Wicked is my favorite Broadway show, and I know all the words, but standing on stage and looking at Josephine, I had no clue. She had to whisper the first line to me, and once she did that, I took off. I ended up crying on stage and hugging her. She’s an amazing young lady, and she’s going to do amazing things in life. It was a beautiful moment, and it was kind of a bow that tied together her career [as a Midwood performer]. I cherish that moment.

How are you adapting your drama classes now that we’re virtual?

In the spring, I had no idea how to do it. It bothered me that this was the first time in 18 years that we weren’t putting on a play, and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand how I was going to do that. And then, one night in June, most of the kids from the cast of In the Heights got together on a Zoom call with me and Mr. Kolotkin, and we went through all the songs. That’s when I realized that this is how we could do it: Just get everybody on a Zoom call and go through it. 

In the summer, small rural theaters started to invite us to virtual performances. This year, my classes were able to see Romeo & Juliet with an all-Asian cast. Everyone in the cast was sitting in their houses. They split the play into two nights, and although there was no blocking, no movement, no sword fights, no kisses, it was wonderful to hear Shakespeare being recited out loud by these actors and to see the diverse take of an all-Asian cast performing it. It made me hopeful because even though theaters are closed down, theater can still be done. 

Our Drama Club is gearing up for a performance. I sit there and marvel because we’re able to do so many things since we aren’t enclosed by the stage and we don’t have to wonder how we’ll pay for expensive costumes and such.

What lessons have you learned from this job?

The lesson I am still trying to learn is patience. Patience, patience, patience. My joke every day is if I wanted patience, I would become a doctor [get it?], but I’m not a doctor, so I need patience. It’s also about listening and allowing the kids to really express themselves. 

Another lesson is: Sometimes, you need to pause. You know how people use ‘um’ constantly? That is one of my pet peeves. Pausing allows you that moment to reflect on what you’re about to say next. I’ve learned to pause and stop and listen.

What advice would you give to other teachers and students?

My advice is this: We make mistakes, and that’s okay. Mistakes are how we learn. They teach you to think outside the box and ask, “How am I going to approach this problem? How am I going to do this a different way?” It makes you think, and there’s nothing wrong with that. We all make mistakes; we’re human. It’s in our nature, and as long as you learn from your mistakes, it’s a positive thing. 

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