Growing Hope:A Playwrights Dreams and Guesses about Young Audiences Virginia Glasgow Koste (bio) Author's Note: This column is a reduced, revised transcription of a presentation at the national symposium on "Theatre for Young Audiences: Principles and Strategies for the Future " (University of Kansas, October, 1986). This is an auspicious occasion—one which, as a child that I know once said "fills you with awe and s'picion." To be asked to divine or propose "principles and strategies for the future of theatre for young audiences" awes me to the very bone. In response to the request in 1924 to "tell us what is destined to be the immediate future of the drama," G.B. Shaw gave the only honest answer possible: "How the deuce do I know?" Like each moment of a good play, the future transformed into the present always surprises even when expected. Still, sometimes a great wit can unwittingly prophesy; Shaw, in that same interview sixty-odd years ago, off-handedly remarked: "America invented the typewriter, and a very little extra ingenuity would suffice to invent an attachment which would turn out what used to be called in Scribe's time a well-made play." So—playfully—he predicted with soul-shuddering accuracy the computer composing that is now a reality—and the computer kind of mind that cranks out itty-bitty-skitty imitation soaps for young audiences. Anyway, not being Shaw, I do confess to some dreams and hopes and guesses—not for my own life-span, but for my yearling grandbaby's? These things need time, after all; a dream instantly realized is like a raisin in the sun-lamp. So, first a quick collage of Signs of Our Times. In September Newsweek reported "the Babylodie, a battery-operated device inserted between the plastic and the padding of a diaper; at the first sign of wetness, it plays a sprightly rendition of 'When The Saints Go Marching In'." The picture that this conjures? A couple of decades from now, a group of people standing, enchanted, in Preservation Hall in New Orleans; the music begins; a well-groomed adult says, "Oh, my God?!" And in May, Newsweek, reporting on current trends in playthings, noted "a 'touch-sensitive' doll named Pamela that contains the same amount of memory as the first IBM personal computer. . touch her nose, and she says, That's my nose, where's your nose?' " Another "best-seller is a teddy-bear with an integrated circuit that 'hears' what a child says and then repeats it." Nolan Bushneil, builder of the first video game, predicts that "by 2000 . . . 50 percent of all domestic pets will be electronic." And a twelve-year-old boy is quoted on the new infra-red light-beam game: "It's better than tag because tag's gotten so boring. You just can't catch anyone. With Lazer Tag you can get 'em from far away." The touch is gone from the ancient, universal ritual of pursuit-and-escape. Control is remote. And imagining is packaged. The "entertainment software market" now offers "interactive fiction games which turn the player into the protagonist in vivid scenarios. . . the fun comes from switching life-styles like so many suits of clothes." A current catalogue offers a new book of bedtime stories with the claim that it is "a lifesaver for all busy, tired mommies and daddies who cringe at the cry, 'Tell me a bedtime story.' This hardcover book satisfies that request without stretching your good humor . . . to its limits. You'll find a total of 58 stories, each of them new, appealing, and instructive in an entertaining way, and each one takes just two short minutes to read to sleepyheads." The United States is the world's number one source of Nobel Prizewinners and Olympic champions, number one in computer production and quantity of books published annually. But it ranks fifteenth in preventing maternal death during childbirth, and twenty-fifth in avoiding low birth-weight in babies. More than a quarter of a century ago, in 1959, the U.N. Declaration of the Rights of the Child included "the right to full opportunity for play." But in Tennessee at this...