So I've been sick all week, which means I've been spending entirely too much time in front of the TV and the computer. Several of my friends had posted or referenced the following video on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, etc. I've watched it several times now and each time has sparked another debate point so I figured I'd just collect my current thoughts on the topic in one place.
Suppressing my natural desire to be sarcastic and dismissive, I'm going to attempt some intelligent discourse and debate here.
I'll break this down for Mr. Perry little by little.
"I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a Christian."
What an odd statement to lead with, Mr. Perry. Should you be ashamed? I know a lot of Christians. I was raised by what is considered (by today's standards) a devout Christian family. We went to church three times a week. Three. Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night. I come from a long line of ministers and worship leaders, pastors and spiritual mentors. And having always lived in the United States, we've always been able to worship and fellowship freely, openly, publicly and without shame. So for starters, I find your opening subtle but intentionally incendiary. Let's stay tuned, shall we?
"...there's something wrong in this country when gays can serve openly in the military but our kids can't openly celebrate Christmas or pray in school."
WOAH!! Hold your horses, Mr. Perry. There's something WRONG with this sentence.
As my southern kinfolk would say, "Them's fightin' words."
First of all, gays have ALWAYS served in our military. Gays always WILL serve in our military. (Whether you and your good ol' boys like it or not.) How "openly" they serve remains to be seen as long as there are people who think and feel the way you do. Even now, I know servicemen and women that are not comfortable discussing their personal lives or sexual orientation because they suffer hazing and teasing (in the mild cases) and shame, persecution and violent oppression (in severe cases). Without questioning your grasp on reality, I'll simply state that "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" is STILL making headlines in our current news stories for a reason. Our gay YOUTHS are still being bullied daily at school and beaten to death in dark alleys. We have not quite become the gay-loving country you think we are. There's still a long way to go before we exhibit an open-arm policy of tolerance, here.
Second, where do you live that your children can't openly celebrate Christmas?? Have you looked around lately? I can't walk a block in my city without seeing nativities and holiday displays of all shapes and sizes. Carols are playing nonstop on department store sound systems and local radio stations. While running errands this weekend, I encountered three "Happy Holidays" and one "Merry Christmas" from complete strangers. It hardly sounds like our children aren't free to celebrate Christmas. On my residential block, there are FIVE 'Christian' nativities in front yards and three Jewish displays. And even the meth-heads next door and the juvenile delinquents throughout the neighborhood have managed to show respect for the decorations with only one incident of rearranging wise men into a questionable tableau.
And I hate to break it to you, but children DO pray in school. So do their teachers. Some do it openly, some are more private - but such is the institution of prayer. Sometimes it's personal. Sometimes it's not. I was openly Christian in Jr. High and High School, but I would have felt very uncomfortable imposing my spiritual beliefs or practices on anyone else. When I was in High School, I was active with Fellowship of Christian Athletes - one of two Christian-based clubs available at my school. Eighteen years later, that same school now has SIX Christian-based clubs/organizations for students to join. Openly.
"As President, I'll end Obama's war on religion."
Mr. Perry, I've never heard of Obama's war on religion. President Obama ascribes to a particular religion himself, so I can't imagine that he would wage a war in which he would ultimately become a target and/or a casualty. What I believe you meant to say was "Obama's war on Christianity" which would have been much too specific to reach the large demographic one must when running for the highest office.
What you are experiencing (but can't accurately identify) is America's war on Christianity. I propose that it's not a war on 'religion' per se, but a war on the exclusivity, division, and imposition that religion seems to present in our communities. We are no longer 'America: The Greatest and Most Important Country Ever'. We are 'America: One Voice in a Global Community'. We fear what we don't know, but as we become educated as a nation on the beliefs and cultures around the world, we've become MORE tolerant of other religions, not less.
I will go so far as to say that MOST of the Christians I know personally have voiced offense and distaste for your video, Mr. Perry. You are representative of a (very vocal) sect of Christianity that does not like the idea of incorporating other religious and spiritual beliefs into the moral fabric of our nation. Why? What is it about religious freedom (ironically an ideal upon which this nation was founded) that threatens you so?
"And I'll fight against liberal attacks on our religious heritage."
I don't know many liberals who attack our religious heritage. Heritage is history, tradition and legacy, which cannot be 'attacked'. It just... is.
By this statement, I wonder if you even know what our religious heritage is.
I also wonder if you've learned nothing from our own religious history between the Quakers, Puritans, Anglicans, Baptists, Roman Catholics and Protestants, Lutherans and Presbyterians. It wasn't idyllic nor was it pretty.
Rather than turn this into a history lesson, I will simply state that liberals are not attacking our religious heritage. If anyone is attacking anything, it's our spiritual future - and I wouldn't call it an attack as much as I'd call it a preemptive strike against the bigotry, hatred and vitriol that has been spewed forth in the name of God and morality.
I would prefer my leader to be preoccupied with fighting against foreign attacks on our American soil, but maybe that's just me.
"Faith made America strong. It can make her strong again."
I don't know what this assumption is based on, but I would venture a guess to say that capitalism, industry, and commerce as well as liberty, justice and the pursuit of happiness is what made - and continues to make - America strong. Then again, that depends on how you define the collective strength of a country.
What makes America weak, however, is division. I assume you've heard the term "divide and conquer"? It's an effective technique, I assure you; and used in military logistics and housewife errand lists on a global scale. And you, Mr. Perry, have effectively divided America once again into groups and factions that either do not deserve the rights they've fought for or deserve more freedoms than they've been given.
America NEEDS strength. America needs unity. America needs fellowship. A fellowship that is not exclusive or derogatory, but inclusive and tolerant.
America does not need a 'Christian' President. It does not need a 'Muslim' President. It does not need a black, white, gay, straight, Democrat, Republican, Liberal, Conservative, religious, or atheist President.
America needs an American President.
That you approve this message only confirms to me that you are not the one for this office.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Places!!
We're heading into the closing weekend for 'Next Fall' and I'm so very sad to see this production come to a close.
It has been an amazing run, an incredible experience, and a shitload of fun and laughs. Seriously, this entire cast and crew is HILARIOUS!!
We had some whacky times (both on and off stage) and shared a few laughs, a few tears, and some great stories.
At the end of the day, however, I'm most proud of the sincerity with which we tell our story. I'll admit it. I'm proud of this cast, this crew, and what we've all accomplished together.
As we head into our last three performances, I figured I'd share a little 'tradition' that I/We started.
Because we all have cameras on our phones nowadays, I started snapping pictures of myself and/or whichever cast member was closest when 'Places' was being called. (We'll call it my way of "rehearsing the joy".)
What resulted was a fun little pictorial... and so I present our 'Places' photos for the first two weeks of the run.
None of us got along... but we muddled through somehow... between musicals, melodrama, and fits of laughter.
And I am once again reminded... as we journey through the story of Luke and Adam... that the people I work with are amazing and beautiful.
Clearly, I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
It has been an amazing run, an incredible experience, and a shitload of fun and laughs. Seriously, this entire cast and crew is HILARIOUS!!
We had some whacky times (both on and off stage) and shared a few laughs, a few tears, and some great stories.
At the end of the day, however, I'm most proud of the sincerity with which we tell our story. I'll admit it. I'm proud of this cast, this crew, and what we've all accomplished together.
As we head into our last three performances, I figured I'd share a little 'tradition' that I/We started.
Because we all have cameras on our phones nowadays, I started snapping pictures of myself and/or whichever cast member was closest when 'Places' was being called. (We'll call it my way of "rehearsing the joy".)
What resulted was a fun little pictorial... and so I present our 'Places' photos for the first two weeks of the run.
None of us got along... but we muddled through somehow... between musicals, melodrama, and fits of laughter.
And I am once again reminded... as we journey through the story of Luke and Adam... that the people I work with are amazing and beautiful.
Clearly, I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Quotes of the Day
There is a tradition among many different theatre companies that I've been involved with called "Quote of the Day". Theatre folk seem to have their own language sometimes when trying to convey abstract and intangible ideas. We also have a tendency to speak 'off the cuff' at times, creating quotes and one-liners that (when taken out of context) sound hilarious, odd or offensive to the uninitiated.
Thus, the following quotes may not be for those that are easily offended or don't care about/understand the creative process of putting on a show. But I figured this was as good a place as any to share them with those theatre friends that would get a kick out of 'em. And hell, maybe after reading a few of 'em, it'll pique your interest enough to come see the show!!
Without further ado, some QOD's from the production of 'Next Fall' at Actors Theatre:
Thus, the following quotes may not be for those that are easily offended or don't care about/understand the creative process of putting on a show. But I figured this was as good a place as any to share them with those theatre friends that would get a kick out of 'em. And hell, maybe after reading a few of 'em, it'll pique your interest enough to come see the show!!
Without further ado, some QOD's from the production of 'Next Fall' at Actors Theatre:
“That movie is why I started pole-vaulting in High School!” CD
“If it's an ass that big, it has to be professionally mounted.” AW
“And a clamshell for Debra K.” AM
“There's no 'but' for that gay.” AM
“But every other time he's on his knees, it's tolerable.” RH
“Take it from Jeffrey Dahmer.” MW
“God is gay.” MW
“Take it from behind... then I don't have to feel you up onstage.” MW
"I was trying to be tight and stuff." RH
"She's gnawing on a bull penis... my housekeeper, not my dog..." DS
"It's Luke. It's Ben's brother... Cool!" MW
"I saw people playing with themselves again." MW
"Nice vegetable kid." MW
"The Hardy Boys were gay?" DD
"He's a non-denominational American." MW
Friday, October 28, 2011
Things I learned on the light rail tonight....
Chivalry is alive and well! I got on the light rail and a former California EMT snatched my bike from my hands before I could even protest and hefted it (with a bit of difficulty, to my delight) right on up to the hook. I could have kissed him! But I didn't. But I'm pretty sure I awarded him 'Hero of the Day'. I didn't have a trophy on me, but he seemed happy with the verbal accolade. (And I say I delight in his difficulty because I thought my issues were due to being a weakling. Turns out, the bike is just one bulky, heavy bitch.)
Five strangers on a train (from vastly different backgrounds and upbringing) can come up with a half-dozen viable ideas for a hit reality TV or web series.
If a man can buy you tampons without being squeamish – and chooses the right brand, absorbency, fragrance and applicator; he is a KEEPER.
I make character assumptions based on the food/cooking shows people watch. It's awful. I sit in rapt conversation with those who claim 'No Reservations' or mention Paula Deen, Chopped or Iron Chef. 'Bitchin' Kitchen' or 'Almost Homemade'? Ummm... Dismissed. I know, it's terrible of me. But I guess that's an inner litmus test that I never knew I had. ...And knowing is half the battle.
After writing a blog (that I still haven't finished or posted yet) that compared the differences between the Phoenix light rail and the New York subway, I thought I preferred the silence and the lack of conversation of NY. But I have to admit that human interaction and a few laughs sure do make the ride seem a lot shorter and much more pleasant.
I've more to share on my many light rail adventures, but it has been a long day. I'm anxious to have an audience for the show... and genuinely nervous for the first time in a long time. I still feel a bit green when it comes to this contemporary drama stuff... but at the end of the day, I feel like I've worked... and have been a part of creating something really special.
As my friend, Ms. Rosenberg, would say, “Ain't nuthin' wrong with that.”
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Adventures Condensed
So I haven't blogged in ages (clearly) but have had one hell of a month!
At the end of last month, I spent a couple days in Arkansas on my way to New York. What a crazy, wonderful getaway it was!!
I got the chance to visit with some of my new friends from Arkansas Repertory Theatre (where we did Hairspray) which was AH-MAZING! The entire theatre was renovated over the summer and looks Gorjey McGorgeous!
I realized on this trip to Little Rock that I don't hate Phoenix as much as I thought I did. In fact, some of the things I love about that city are the similarities to Phoenix. I like the lushness of the south, though... and everyone seems nicer just because of their accents. They've perfected the art of the 'kind insult' - softening any blow by following it with, "Bless their heart..."
And truthfully, I'm a sucker for any town that has BBQ, Fried Fish and sweet tea on every corner. So...
SOLD!
From there, I was off to New York for a week of auditions. It was supposed to also include lots of visiting with friends, sightseeing and a show every night, but that was certainly not the case. I ended up being so swamped with auditions and visiting old friends that I really didn't do the touristy sight-seeing at all. For one thing, I didn't bring any of my three cameras (so much for traveling light) and even though I had my phone-cam, it's crappy, blurry, never focuses right, etc.
In a nutshell, auditions went well. Very well. Well enough that I'm trying to make it back to NY in January for another set of callbacks. (Which would be for projects mostly over the summer and the beginning of next season.)
But, rather than blog... which I suspect would be boring... I figured I'd offer up a video montage instead.
At the end of last month, I spent a couple days in Arkansas on my way to New York. What a crazy, wonderful getaway it was!!
I got the chance to visit with some of my new friends from Arkansas Repertory Theatre (where we did Hairspray) which was AH-MAZING! The entire theatre was renovated over the summer and looks Gorjey McGorgeous!
I realized on this trip to Little Rock that I don't hate Phoenix as much as I thought I did. In fact, some of the things I love about that city are the similarities to Phoenix. I like the lushness of the south, though... and everyone seems nicer just because of their accents. They've perfected the art of the 'kind insult' - softening any blow by following it with, "Bless their heart..."
And truthfully, I'm a sucker for any town that has BBQ, Fried Fish and sweet tea on every corner. So...
SOLD!
From there, I was off to New York for a week of auditions. It was supposed to also include lots of visiting with friends, sightseeing and a show every night, but that was certainly not the case. I ended up being so swamped with auditions and visiting old friends that I really didn't do the touristy sight-seeing at all. For one thing, I didn't bring any of my three cameras (so much for traveling light) and even though I had my phone-cam, it's crappy, blurry, never focuses right, etc.
In a nutshell, auditions went well. Very well. Well enough that I'm trying to make it back to NY in January for another set of callbacks. (Which would be for projects mostly over the summer and the beginning of next season.)
But, rather than blog... which I suspect would be boring... I figured I'd offer up a video montage instead.
Monday, October 10, 2011
A letter to my teenage daughter
First Published: October, 2011
Hey Daughter,
I wanted to share some things with you that I didn't get to last night. It was late when we got off the phone. You were still upset. But I've been thinking about you nonstop since we hung up, and decided there were things too important not to say. And because I want us both to remember them, I'm writing them down.
*It is more important to be smart than pretty. Pretty ages. It fades. It gets corrupted by flattery and skewed by vanity. Beauty, however, goes hand in hand with wisdom. And that comes from within. And don't ever confuse beauty with perfection. Beauty is symmetry and balance, but we know what balance is. It is light and dark, strength and weakness, humility and daring. You have all of these qualities, C. You are beautiful. Great power requires great responsibility. And beauty requires wisdom. The best decisions are not always made quickly and require a balance of head and heart, theorems and art, science and miracles.
*You are complete and whole as a person. Don't ever be fooled into thinking that you need someone in your life to 'complete you'. There will be people in your life who complement and encourage you, but your value will never be dependent on your ability to maintain a romantic relationship. Stay close to the people who inspire you. You are magical and amazing and don't need to waste your time with the negative people in this world. You will love people in your lifetime who are toxic. It will hurt. But you will learn how special some people are, and it will increase your capacity to love those people all the more.
*Gone are the days of making decisions for you. You will never again have to suffer the humiliation of ruffled panties or facial indentations from frilly headbands I've chosen for you to wear. You will no longer be forced to sit through a church service or theatrical event that bores you to tears. As an adult, you will have the choice to participate or walk away. That decision is yours. Don't make it to impress me, or please your dad, or in the hopes of pleasing or impressing someone else in your life. Make it for you. This is your life. In the end, you have to be the one to live with your choices. Choose happiness. Choose joy. Choose freedom. Choose your bliss.
*There is ugliness in this world. You've been exposed to a portion of it in your life. I am guilty of failing to protect you when you were younger. That you've seen and heard violence and anger and disrespect between people who are supposed to love and protect you (and each other) is one of my biggest regrets as a parent. I hope that your life is such that you never encounter extreme ugliness or violence personally; but statistically speaking, it will directly affect you. Please know that I will always be here for you. I may not always know the right answer immediately, but I can always hold you until we figure out what to do together. Violence is a choice. Peace is a choice. Choose Peace. Choose Love.
*Choose your relationships wisely. They will set (or lower) the standards for future relationships and affect you in ways you are currently unaware of. Hormones are a sonofabitch and believe me, I understand the 'warm and tinglies'... or you wouldn't be here. But sex never makes a relationship easier. It only adds a layer of potential complications and issues. It requires impeccable communication and compatibility over the long-term. When it's right, though, it's amazing. Protect your body and your heart, but own your sexual identity. (Just don't be a slut about it.)
I'll end this for now. I'm sure there will be more at a later time. But these are just some of the things that have come up in the last few days with our talks. I figured now was as good a time as any to let you know. I love you.
~Mom
Hey Daughter,
I wanted to share some things with you that I didn't get to last night. It was late when we got off the phone. You were still upset. But I've been thinking about you nonstop since we hung up, and decided there were things too important not to say. And because I want us both to remember them, I'm writing them down.
*It is more important to be smart than pretty. Pretty ages. It fades. It gets corrupted by flattery and skewed by vanity. Beauty, however, goes hand in hand with wisdom. And that comes from within. And don't ever confuse beauty with perfection. Beauty is symmetry and balance, but we know what balance is. It is light and dark, strength and weakness, humility and daring. You have all of these qualities, C. You are beautiful. Great power requires great responsibility. And beauty requires wisdom. The best decisions are not always made quickly and require a balance of head and heart, theorems and art, science and miracles.
*You are complete and whole as a person. Don't ever be fooled into thinking that you need someone in your life to 'complete you'. There will be people in your life who complement and encourage you, but your value will never be dependent on your ability to maintain a romantic relationship. Stay close to the people who inspire you. You are magical and amazing and don't need to waste your time with the negative people in this world. You will love people in your lifetime who are toxic. It will hurt. But you will learn how special some people are, and it will increase your capacity to love those people all the more.
*Gone are the days of making decisions for you. You will never again have to suffer the humiliation of ruffled panties or facial indentations from frilly headbands I've chosen for you to wear. You will no longer be forced to sit through a church service or theatrical event that bores you to tears. As an adult, you will have the choice to participate or walk away. That decision is yours. Don't make it to impress me, or please your dad, or in the hopes of pleasing or impressing someone else in your life. Make it for you. This is your life. In the end, you have to be the one to live with your choices. Choose happiness. Choose joy. Choose freedom. Choose your bliss.
*There is ugliness in this world. You've been exposed to a portion of it in your life. I am guilty of failing to protect you when you were younger. That you've seen and heard violence and anger and disrespect between people who are supposed to love and protect you (and each other) is one of my biggest regrets as a parent. I hope that your life is such that you never encounter extreme ugliness or violence personally; but statistically speaking, it will directly affect you. Please know that I will always be here for you. I may not always know the right answer immediately, but I can always hold you until we figure out what to do together. Violence is a choice. Peace is a choice. Choose Peace. Choose Love.
*Choose your relationships wisely. They will set (or lower) the standards for future relationships and affect you in ways you are currently unaware of. Hormones are a sonofabitch and believe me, I understand the 'warm and tinglies'... or you wouldn't be here. But sex never makes a relationship easier. It only adds a layer of potential complications and issues. It requires impeccable communication and compatibility over the long-term. When it's right, though, it's amazing. Protect your body and your heart, but own your sexual identity. (Just don't be a slut about it.)
I'll end this for now. I'm sure there will be more at a later time. But these are just some of the things that have come up in the last few days with our talks. I figured now was as good a time as any to let you know. I love you.
~Mom
Friday, October 7, 2011
Next Fall
I'm totally cheating by posting a blog that I wrote for Actor's Theatre, but I haven't had much time to commit bloggery in the past week.
I will, however, set aside some time in the next few days to regale all you (four) readers with my adventures back in Little Rock and NYC. For now, here's a peek at what I'm up to.
I will, however, set aside some time in the next few days to regale all you (four) readers with my adventures back in Little Rock and NYC. For now, here's a peek at what I'm up to.
“What are you doing right now?”
“I'm in rehearsals for Next Fall.”
“For what show and why are you rehearsing a year in advance?”
“No, the name of the show is Next Fall.”
“Oh. Hmph. Never heard of it.”
What I thought would be yet another amazing show that no one has heard of has already proven to be much more than I could possibly blog about in one sitting.
A lesson in serendipity.
I just returned from New York. This was my first trip to the city and was somewhat spontaneous in nature, so I didn't have much of an agenda. I had picked up my script two days before leaving so that I would have something to occupy myself on the plane and perhaps in the audition 'holding rooms'.
And here's where the serendipity begins...
Holly (the character I'm playing) is a citified hippie. She's part New York business woman, part crystal-clutching, shakra-healing, master of the downward dog. Her faith is in energies and higher powers rather than specific deities and she finds comfort and fellowship among her self-help groups and charity fundraisers. I'm not afraid to admit that Holly and I share more than a few common characteristics, not all of them healthy or 'normal' by the majority standards, but we serve a necessary, if eclectic, function in the world.
When in NYC, I stayed with a friend at 73rd and Columbus and read (with some amusement) Holly's story about walking down 74th and Columbus. Some coincidence.
I read further to Butch's reference of his driver from JFK; “Saheed was a yakker with a lead foot,” and guffawed out loud. My driver from Newark Airport was a chatty Pakistani (in the city 22 years) named Sayyed.
I could go on to include the many Jewish references in the show (most of which I had only just learned about from my friend Sandy – who bears the same last name as another character I reference)... or the shared favorite candle scents... or the pot-smoking friend named Rachel... but needless to say, I was emotionally bonded to the script (and Holly) after the first read.
But that isn't where the serendipity ends.
There is a kind of 'theatre magic' that happens on some projects that is unexplainable.
I had the opportunity to work with Matthew on Noises Off for Phoenix Theatre most recently, and further back had worked with David Vining as a dialect coach and Debra K. on a one-night reading of Lysistrata. I'd also worked at length with April Miller and David Dickinson at Southwest Shakes and Shakespeare Sedona. But the culmination of all this is Robert Harper, playing Adam, Holly's life-saver and BFF. 'Robbie' and I have worked numerous projects together. From community theatre, to corporate events, to private gigs to professional and regional theatres, he has alternately been my director, my choreographer, my teacher and my castmate. More than this, the man is my mentor and my friend.
And so it was, on the night of our first read-thru, that we sat across the table from each other as we read the final pages of our script.
“He looked at me.”
My eyes met Robbie's... and with one look, he cracked open my heart and gutted my soul.
I understood at once what this play is about. It's about faith. It's about relationships. It's about protecting the ones we love. It's about loyalty and acceptance.
It's about serendipity and believing in something bigger than yourself. ...and I do.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Where were you...
My parents can recollect with great detail where they were when JFK was assassinated. What they were doing when they heard the news that John Lennon had been shot.
In my own childhood, I can remember watching history unfold as the Challenger space shuttle exploded and the Berlin wall came down.
But I don't remember anything that compared to the global impact of the falling of the Twin Towers on 9/11/01.
Jason and I had been in tech for 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' with The Shakespeare Theatre at the time. Jason was playing Puck, I was playing Titania. When I didn't have the kids in my care, it had become quite common to stay the night at Jay's apartment after late rehearsals because my apartment was so much further from the theatre.
Ten years ago today... at exactly this moment in the late night/early morning, we were having one of our first 'big fights' as a couple. We had made plans to move into a two-bedroom apartment together and the logistics (in addition to being in the middle of tech week) were stressing us out. I don't remember the details of the argument (as is usually the case) but I remember that we had kept each other up until 3 or 4 in the morning.
After reaching an acceptable resolution (whatever it was) we decided to call out of work the next day and play hooky together.
We had only been asleep for a few hours when Jason's cell phone started ringing. I remember assuming it was work-related until he bolted straight out of bed and towards the computer with a, "Dude, WHAT? Slow down...." It was his best friend Bill, calling with the news that we were under attack.
Jason didn't have cable in his apartment (and it was silly to hook it up for the final month before moving out) and so our only news source was radio or internet. (In retrospect, our unintentional boycott of network news was NOT a bad thing at all.)
I remember rubbing the sleepies out of my eyes while Jason pulled up a his internet browser. No search was necessary - photos of the plane hitting the WTC were already plastered everywhere we looked. We were watching the streaming video and trying to make sense of what happened when we saw the second plane hit.
I remember going outside onto the patio. Jay's apartment was in downtown Phx, not too far from Sky Harbor airport - but what was usually busy airspace above the apartment was just an empty sky of blue. There wasn't a plane in sight.
I remember thinking that the eery silence must be an echo of what was happening in New York. I refrained from calling friends, knowing they would have family trying to reach them - and sure that the phone lines and emergency services were already overloaded. Over the course of the day, reports trickled in from friends that were there. Desiree was safe. Albert was safe. And I breathed a little easier.
I remember very vividly our preview performance on 9/12.
Our director and artistic director had briefly discussed pulling the previews in light of the national 'mood'. As a cast, however, we wanted - needed - something to distract from the tragedy and the trauma. We were surprised to have an audience that night (albeit a small one), but what surprised us even more was how freely and appreciatively they laughed.
I think it was then that we realized what laughter can do. I mean, we've all heard that "laughter is the best medicine" but it wasn't until the events of 9/11 that I realized the necessity for true human fellowship. As actors and artists, we were only too happy to delve into a Shakespearean world where "war" was between two quarreling fairies and 'terrorist acts' involved nothing more than a daughter's rebellion and a mischievous sprite with a magic flower. Our audience was ready and willing to be taken along for the ride - and at the end of our preview, we took our curtain call to a standing ovation. For those few sweet hours, it was bliss to be able to just forget. We needed that. The grief was new and raw. We needed to forget - however briefly - about the tragedy and the sorrow and the anger. We needed to be reminded of the beauty in humanity.
After our preview, I remember sitting with a group of friends at an Applebees or a Chili's while 9/11 footage rolled on silent TVs in every corner. We were animated and boisterous when we entered... but the mood inside sobered us instantly. That happened a lot in the days immediately following. We would forget... for an instant... that an entire culture of people hated us. But we would be swiftly reminded with smoke-plumed, fiery news footage.
More than saying I have a predominant 'memory' about 9/11, I'd rather say that the day brought about a realization - a self-awareness, if you will.
Prior to September 2001, I thought that the U.S. was a bad-ass (but compassionate) global superpower that other countries respected and wished to emulate. We have global ambassadors and causes and organizations... we HELP people less fortunate than us. Right?
There was a huge sense of patriotism and loyalty that permeated the U.S., but something else started to happen that day. People began to ask questions.
We started asking, "Why?"
Prior to 9/11, I had never heard of Al-Qaeda and had little idea where Iraq or Afghanistan were located. I've heard a lot of words and catch-phrases thrown around in the ten years since then. Media scrambled for clever soundbytes from the administration - who were calling for righteous indignation, retribution, justice and vindication.
9/11 changed the way I look at war. It also changed the way I look at peace.
The employees of the World Trade Center did not enlist in our nations military or otherwise take oaths to serve and protect. I suspect that most of them (like me) would never have imagined they would have to consider enemies (foreign or domestic) that actually wanted to take their lives. We were not at war. They were on their home soil. Going about their mundane daily routines. What was there to worry about?
As a collective, we managed to piss off a nation - whether through religious, cultural, or financial practices, we incurred the wrath of another collective and no one felt it more than the innocent civilians.
I say 'we'... but in reality, I speak of our government agencies - the foreign representatives and policy-makers that come in direct contact with dignitaries of other countries. Our 'representatives'.
But in warfare, it is always the innocents that suffer. The officers and dignitaries stay home (or in secure locations) while our sons are sent to face the front lines; armed with a government-issued firearm and a sense of 'duty'.
When I see the words "Never Forget", it means something different to me than I think is intended.
I will never forget that day.
I will never forget that I live in a country that is bold and beautiful, but also arrogant and intolerant.
I will never forget that there isn't always one right and one wrong and that sometimes conflict can be resolved with love and acceptance.
I will never forget the day that almost 3,000 of our brothers and sisters were sacrificed in the name of hate.
I will never forget the day that ordinary people became heroes.
2,977 people died from the attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. Since then, approximately 4,404 armed forces have died in Iraq and 1,140 in Afghanistan. Total U.S. casualties of this war: 8,521 and counting.
In return, the U.S. has been responsible for the deaths of 107,152 civilians in Iraq (still unverified - some counts go as high 150,000) and 8,813 in Afghanistan. Total non-U.S. casualties of this war: 115,965 and counting.
I won't ever forget.
And I won't stop asking how many more innocent people have to die before we remember.
In my own childhood, I can remember watching history unfold as the Challenger space shuttle exploded and the Berlin wall came down.
But I don't remember anything that compared to the global impact of the falling of the Twin Towers on 9/11/01.
Jason and I had been in tech for 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' with The Shakespeare Theatre at the time. Jason was playing Puck, I was playing Titania. When I didn't have the kids in my care, it had become quite common to stay the night at Jay's apartment after late rehearsals because my apartment was so much further from the theatre.
Ten years ago today... at exactly this moment in the late night/early morning, we were having one of our first 'big fights' as a couple. We had made plans to move into a two-bedroom apartment together and the logistics (in addition to being in the middle of tech week) were stressing us out. I don't remember the details of the argument (as is usually the case) but I remember that we had kept each other up until 3 or 4 in the morning.
After reaching an acceptable resolution (whatever it was) we decided to call out of work the next day and play hooky together.
We had only been asleep for a few hours when Jason's cell phone started ringing. I remember assuming it was work-related until he bolted straight out of bed and towards the computer with a, "Dude, WHAT? Slow down...." It was his best friend Bill, calling with the news that we were under attack.
Jason didn't have cable in his apartment (and it was silly to hook it up for the final month before moving out) and so our only news source was radio or internet. (In retrospect, our unintentional boycott of network news was NOT a bad thing at all.)
I remember rubbing the sleepies out of my eyes while Jason pulled up a his internet browser. No search was necessary - photos of the plane hitting the WTC were already plastered everywhere we looked. We were watching the streaming video and trying to make sense of what happened when we saw the second plane hit.
I remember going outside onto the patio. Jay's apartment was in downtown Phx, not too far from Sky Harbor airport - but what was usually busy airspace above the apartment was just an empty sky of blue. There wasn't a plane in sight.
I remember thinking that the eery silence must be an echo of what was happening in New York. I refrained from calling friends, knowing they would have family trying to reach them - and sure that the phone lines and emergency services were already overloaded. Over the course of the day, reports trickled in from friends that were there. Desiree was safe. Albert was safe. And I breathed a little easier.
I remember very vividly our preview performance on 9/12.
Our director and artistic director had briefly discussed pulling the previews in light of the national 'mood'. As a cast, however, we wanted - needed - something to distract from the tragedy and the trauma. We were surprised to have an audience that night (albeit a small one), but what surprised us even more was how freely and appreciatively they laughed.
I think it was then that we realized what laughter can do. I mean, we've all heard that "laughter is the best medicine" but it wasn't until the events of 9/11 that I realized the necessity for true human fellowship. As actors and artists, we were only too happy to delve into a Shakespearean world where "war" was between two quarreling fairies and 'terrorist acts' involved nothing more than a daughter's rebellion and a mischievous sprite with a magic flower. Our audience was ready and willing to be taken along for the ride - and at the end of our preview, we took our curtain call to a standing ovation. For those few sweet hours, it was bliss to be able to just forget. We needed that. The grief was new and raw. We needed to forget - however briefly - about the tragedy and the sorrow and the anger. We needed to be reminded of the beauty in humanity.
After our preview, I remember sitting with a group of friends at an Applebees or a Chili's while 9/11 footage rolled on silent TVs in every corner. We were animated and boisterous when we entered... but the mood inside sobered us instantly. That happened a lot in the days immediately following. We would forget... for an instant... that an entire culture of people hated us. But we would be swiftly reminded with smoke-plumed, fiery news footage.
More than saying I have a predominant 'memory' about 9/11, I'd rather say that the day brought about a realization - a self-awareness, if you will.
Prior to September 2001, I thought that the U.S. was a bad-ass (but compassionate) global superpower that other countries respected and wished to emulate. We have global ambassadors and causes and organizations... we HELP people less fortunate than us. Right?
There was a huge sense of patriotism and loyalty that permeated the U.S., but something else started to happen that day. People began to ask questions.
We started asking, "Why?"
Prior to 9/11, I had never heard of Al-Qaeda and had little idea where Iraq or Afghanistan were located. I've heard a lot of words and catch-phrases thrown around in the ten years since then. Media scrambled for clever soundbytes from the administration - who were calling for righteous indignation, retribution, justice and vindication.
9/11 changed the way I look at war. It also changed the way I look at peace.
The employees of the World Trade Center did not enlist in our nations military or otherwise take oaths to serve and protect. I suspect that most of them (like me) would never have imagined they would have to consider enemies (foreign or domestic) that actually wanted to take their lives. We were not at war. They were on their home soil. Going about their mundane daily routines. What was there to worry about?
As a collective, we managed to piss off a nation - whether through religious, cultural, or financial practices, we incurred the wrath of another collective and no one felt it more than the innocent civilians.
I say 'we'... but in reality, I speak of our government agencies - the foreign representatives and policy-makers that come in direct contact with dignitaries of other countries. Our 'representatives'.
But in warfare, it is always the innocents that suffer. The officers and dignitaries stay home (or in secure locations) while our sons are sent to face the front lines; armed with a government-issued firearm and a sense of 'duty'.
When I see the words "Never Forget", it means something different to me than I think is intended.
I will never forget that day.
I will never forget that I live in a country that is bold and beautiful, but also arrogant and intolerant.
I will never forget that there isn't always one right and one wrong and that sometimes conflict can be resolved with love and acceptance.
I will never forget the day that almost 3,000 of our brothers and sisters were sacrificed in the name of hate.
I will never forget the day that ordinary people became heroes.
2,977 people died from the attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. Since then, approximately 4,404 armed forces have died in Iraq and 1,140 in Afghanistan. Total U.S. casualties of this war: 8,521 and counting.
In return, the U.S. has been responsible for the deaths of 107,152 civilians in Iraq (still unverified - some counts go as high 150,000) and 8,813 in Afghanistan. Total non-U.S. casualties of this war: 115,965 and counting.
I won't ever forget.
And I won't stop asking how many more innocent people have to die before we remember.
Friday, August 26, 2011
I've fallen and I can't keep up!
Gone are the carefree days of summer.
The kids are back in school and the house is eerily quiet during the day. (Until the cats knock something over or the dog starts whining.)
I love the Fall.
It's my favorite season of the year - not just for the weather. I remember learning about Autumn/Fall back in grade school. The teacher would explain that all of nature is preparing for the winter... gearing up for that dormant period. But my life is quite the opposite. My 'dormant period' is definitely during the summer. In Arizona, everything shuts down for the summer (except the water parks) and doesn't start up again until the Fall. So, after a vampiric summer far indoors and away from the desert sun, I emerge (usually stir-crazy) and practically panting and salivating over the first project of the season.
And so it is... this Fall... that I will begin rehearsals for 'Next Fall' (yeah, it gets even more confusing when I try to say it) with Actor's Theatre. Next Fall is a play by Geoffrey Nauffts that tackles conventional issues that plague an 'unconventional' relationship - one a devout Christian and the other an atheist. It is a wonderfully written play about little people and big problems and I can't wait to get started on it!
But before I do... there are a couple of other projects in my lap at the moment. The first of which is Arizona Curriculum Theatre's annual "PoeFest". We are staging several pieces by Edgar Allan Poe and I'm really excited about the cast this year. I am co-directing with my friend and cohort, James Porter and the show will run through the month of October. Yay for Halloween!
I've also been finishing the preliminary script for 'Ain't I a Woman', an original (historically based) play that covers the lives and relationships of the original suffragettes. (Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Sojourner Truth, etc, etc. I'm uber-excited about this show as it's the first (complete) script that I've written - and it's a subject that is near and dear to my heart. Needless to say, my plate has been growing ever more full as the summer nears its close... and I couldn't be happier!
I will be in New York for a week at the end of September and return just in time to start rehearsals for 'Next Fall' and to see 'Poe' go into tech. It's going to be a very exciting month, for sure. I can't quite believe that August is almost over.
In any case, I will leave you with links and a video for your perusing pleasure. Happy pending Fall!!
http://www.poefest.org/
http://curriculumtheatre.org
The kids are back in school and the house is eerily quiet during the day. (Until the cats knock something over or the dog starts whining.)
I love the Fall.
It's my favorite season of the year - not just for the weather. I remember learning about Autumn/Fall back in grade school. The teacher would explain that all of nature is preparing for the winter... gearing up for that dormant period. But my life is quite the opposite. My 'dormant period' is definitely during the summer. In Arizona, everything shuts down for the summer (except the water parks) and doesn't start up again until the Fall. So, after a vampiric summer far indoors and away from the desert sun, I emerge (usually stir-crazy) and practically panting and salivating over the first project of the season.
And so it is... this Fall... that I will begin rehearsals for 'Next Fall' (yeah, it gets even more confusing when I try to say it) with Actor's Theatre. Next Fall is a play by Geoffrey Nauffts that tackles conventional issues that plague an 'unconventional' relationship - one a devout Christian and the other an atheist. It is a wonderfully written play about little people and big problems and I can't wait to get started on it!
But before I do... there are a couple of other projects in my lap at the moment. The first of which is Arizona Curriculum Theatre's annual "PoeFest". We are staging several pieces by Edgar Allan Poe and I'm really excited about the cast this year. I am co-directing with my friend and cohort, James Porter and the show will run through the month of October. Yay for Halloween!
I've also been finishing the preliminary script for 'Ain't I a Woman', an original (historically based) play that covers the lives and relationships of the original suffragettes. (Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Sojourner Truth, etc, etc. I'm uber-excited about this show as it's the first (complete) script that I've written - and it's a subject that is near and dear to my heart. Needless to say, my plate has been growing ever more full as the summer nears its close... and I couldn't be happier!
I will be in New York for a week at the end of September and return just in time to start rehearsals for 'Next Fall' and to see 'Poe' go into tech. It's going to be a very exciting month, for sure. I can't quite believe that August is almost over.
In any case, I will leave you with links and a video for your perusing pleasure. Happy pending Fall!!
http://www.poefest.org/
http://curriculumtheatre.org
Monday, August 1, 2011
What's in a Name?...
I've been working on tracing my family lineage (off and on between projects) and it has been such an interesting challenge.
I've traced my father's line back to Barbados, where they settled for generations after coming from England. I've traced my mother's line back to their roots in Germany and Holland... and have been fascinated by the evolution of last names as 'my people' jumped continents.
This resulted in my analyzing my own last name... still shared with an extended paternal line in Barbados.
I also share the same middle name as my mother and my daughter... a tradition for the first girl born in our generations. (And incidentally, my daughter is the spitting image of her namesake, four generations removed.) My son shares the same middle name as my father, which is also a bastardization (ironically) of my first name.
In every line of my family, there are examples of common family names being passed down from generation to generation. When looking at my family tree, it can get very confusing with all of the Roberts and Josephs and Franks and Johns, Marys, Katherines, and Anns. We've gotten more creative with first names in later generations, but the family names are all still there - if not prominent - then tucked neatly between first and last.
How fun it was to discover that my son shares the same first name with several of my relations from Tyrone, Ireland in the 1700's! I'm also a (skeptical) believer in 'genetic memory' (which is its own blog post entirely) and have been curious as to what else has been passed down via DNA from those long-lost relations.
As I reveal more and more holy men and artisans along the family line, I'm convinced that 'names' are not all that we share; but that the genetic legacy is far more complex than I have even begun to discover.
The thing is... I like my last name. My maiden name.
No offense to my former husbands, but I hated both of my married names. They just didn't... fit. It was like wearing someone else's panties. And not just wearing someone's panties, but having other people acknowledge that you're wearing someone else's panties. That's how it felt any time someone called me Mrs. So-and-So.
Taking into account, of course, that they would eye me suspiciously... my married name being the equivalent of Xhang - while I'm decidedly not Asian... but I digress...
I don't know if I'll ever get married again, but I loathe the discussion about whether or not I'll take my husband's last name. I am only partially saved by the argument that I have to keep my 'stage name' as it has already been established. Plenty of actors and actresses change their names legally, but keep their stage names.
I love my family, dysfunctional as they may be, and have always been proud to descend from the line of extraordinary people that make up my lineage.
I find a certain amount of comfort and identity in my family name and have been loathe to give it up or trade it in. I don't know if that makes me a raging feminist or a selfish partner or what... but I know it's not always popular opinion. But damn... I figure if I'm going to cook and clean for, support, encourage and remove the skid marks from some man's drawers; the least he can do is let me hang on to some semblance of my own dignity and identity, right?
Oh, who am I kidding? I don't cook, clean, support, encourage or remove skid marks for anyone. But I digress... again...
I don't know... maybe I'm making too much of it.
It's not really an issue that needs resolution any time soon. But I do know that I can't be the only woman who feels this way. Convicted... but conflicted about feeling convicted. If that makes any sense.
I guess that's the story of my opinionated life. :)
Who knows... maybe later in life, I'll be less attached to my name. But for now, it's a very comfortable and reassuring pair of panties that I don't aim to change any time soon.
I've traced my father's line back to Barbados, where they settled for generations after coming from England. I've traced my mother's line back to their roots in Germany and Holland... and have been fascinated by the evolution of last names as 'my people' jumped continents.
This resulted in my analyzing my own last name... still shared with an extended paternal line in Barbados.
I also share the same middle name as my mother and my daughter... a tradition for the first girl born in our generations. (And incidentally, my daughter is the spitting image of her namesake, four generations removed.) My son shares the same middle name as my father, which is also a bastardization (ironically) of my first name.
In every line of my family, there are examples of common family names being passed down from generation to generation. When looking at my family tree, it can get very confusing with all of the Roberts and Josephs and Franks and Johns, Marys, Katherines, and Anns. We've gotten more creative with first names in later generations, but the family names are all still there - if not prominent - then tucked neatly between first and last.
How fun it was to discover that my son shares the same first name with several of my relations from Tyrone, Ireland in the 1700's! I'm also a (skeptical) believer in 'genetic memory' (which is its own blog post entirely) and have been curious as to what else has been passed down via DNA from those long-lost relations.
As I reveal more and more holy men and artisans along the family line, I'm convinced that 'names' are not all that we share; but that the genetic legacy is far more complex than I have even begun to discover.
The thing is... I like my last name. My maiden name.
No offense to my former husbands, but I hated both of my married names. They just didn't... fit. It was like wearing someone else's panties. And not just wearing someone's panties, but having other people acknowledge that you're wearing someone else's panties. That's how it felt any time someone called me Mrs. So-and-So.
Taking into account, of course, that they would eye me suspiciously... my married name being the equivalent of Xhang - while I'm decidedly not Asian... but I digress...
I don't know if I'll ever get married again, but I loathe the discussion about whether or not I'll take my husband's last name. I am only partially saved by the argument that I have to keep my 'stage name' as it has already been established. Plenty of actors and actresses change their names legally, but keep their stage names.
I love my family, dysfunctional as they may be, and have always been proud to descend from the line of extraordinary people that make up my lineage.
I find a certain amount of comfort and identity in my family name and have been loathe to give it up or trade it in. I don't know if that makes me a raging feminist or a selfish partner or what... but I know it's not always popular opinion. But damn... I figure if I'm going to cook and clean for, support, encourage and remove the skid marks from some man's drawers; the least he can do is let me hang on to some semblance of my own dignity and identity, right?
Oh, who am I kidding? I don't cook, clean, support, encourage or remove skid marks for anyone. But I digress... again...
I don't know... maybe I'm making too much of it.
It's not really an issue that needs resolution any time soon. But I do know that I can't be the only woman who feels this way. Convicted... but conflicted about feeling convicted. If that makes any sense.
I guess that's the story of my opinionated life. :)
Who knows... maybe later in life, I'll be less attached to my name. But for now, it's a very comfortable and reassuring pair of panties that I don't aim to change any time soon.
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