Diversity in the Theatre: I won't stop speaking up.

Lately, I've been feeling like a broken record. I can count on two hands the number of times I've recently said "white people show" or "shows where the director feels the family unit MUST be white." I understand that by living in Central Pennsylvania, I've kind of limited my options, but I'm dealing with that personally after a swift kick in the pants by someone I respect. (Side note: I'm planning on moving!!!!! More on that in another post eventually!)  
If you know me, you know that the subject of race isn't something I talk about it. I grew up in a white family. I never really thought that I was "less than" or had to work extra hard because I was black.Of course some people think I should take my skin color and let it define me in all aspects of my life. But I'm not going to do that. I don't find my identity in my skin color, I find it in who I am in Christ. But that's also a different blog post for a different time. 

I was recently asked to audition for a role of a middle aged, southern, black man. I didn't want to do it. I felt guilted into auditioning, because, I guess, I was the only black actor around here that people could think of. Which would be cool if the show had been "Race" by David Mamet, and the role was Susan a 20something (maybe early 30s...) black lawyer. But it wasn't. And I didn't audition. I included this in my email to the director, and I meant every word of it two weeks ago, and I still mean them today:  

I think that finding a play with one African American character was very bold, and a very cool decision on your part. On the flip side, as an African American actress who is involved in a community theatre that only seems to pick shows where WHITE families are the main characters, unfortunately, I don't have a prayer of being cast. And then having the option to audition for a show just because I'm black, is cool, I guess, but "being black" isn't really my schtick. I'm a talented actress, and I can do so much more than just look a certain way. And my prayer for the future of theatre is that my son or daughter will not be called upon for a role just because of their skin color. Theatre is moving in such a good direction, when it comes to diverse casting, but I think we who are involved at the community level need to be more conscious of picking shows that can be filled with people of all races and backgrounds, not just a show with a "token black." The world itself is changing...I'm in a serious relationship with a white guy, I have some biracial friends, and some Indian friends and some Filipino friends. We are hard-pressed, especially in the State College community, to find someone who is 100% anything. Diverse backgrounds are becoming the norm in the world, and I believe that theatre should be a direct reflection of life and the world around us. Otherwise, unless we're doing a historic Wilson, or GB Shaw, or Isben, it becomes inauthentic, and more difficult to relate to. Thankfully, a lot of contemporary playwrights are moving in that direction. And they're doing that by writing plays that don't have specific character breakdowns. Which is awesome, because it gives actors of color more of a chance of being involved! 

I'd like to point out that I'm not the only one thinking, talking, and writing about diversity in the theatre. I recently read a great article about the role of theatre critics where diversity is concerned. The Article Overview reads:

Some critics don’t concern themselves with diversity or context, sticking to the subject before them. This is its own form of injustice as well as an abandonment of the critic’s role; to see exclusionary practices and not comment on them is to perpetuate them, but also, to pretend a show exists in a cultural vacuum does a disservice to the role of art. 

I love this. The article goes on to say that the lack of diversity isn't just cultural/background. The theatre is also severely lacking women playwrights, producers, directors, etc...:

Just 17 percent of plays produced in this country are written by women. Since 2000, the annual list of the top 10 most-produced plays averages three female playwrights. (An interesting side note: there’s far more ethnic diversity among these women than there is among their male counterparts, which is great, but leads me to wonder whether this is because such playwrights enable artistic directors to check off more than one “diversity” box.)  

I literally couldn't have written a better side note if I tried. Do we as theatre practitioners purposely stack our decks so we can appear diverse? This honestly hasn't been my experience, but I pray to God it never happens.

There are a few sides to the diversity situation: people who think producers should strive to include all types of people in every show of the season; people who think that the only type of "diversity" we should have is a
"Random Black Girl" in the ensemble of every musical (these people are usually the more old fashioned types of directors); and then there are people who don't think about this at all, which isn't necessarily a problem, but it's not a solution either. 

I'm no expert, but I think the biggest thing we at the local level are missing is a simple dialogue on this issue. I can sit here all day and link you to bigger theatre communities who have devoted entire studies to managing and valuing diversity... but I think I'd prefer to ask the questions myself: 

1. Why couldn't we produce "Race" by David Mamet for a season? Or any other shows like that? (Memphis!! Sister Act!! The Color Purple!!)
2. Why aren't we able to draw a larger diverse crowd to our shows?
3. What if we took the notion of "black people wouldn't have been anything other than maids in the 1930s" and threw it out, and cast a black woman as Reno Sweeney, or any type of lead? 
4. Who says every family unit all has to look the same? I mean, have you seen my parents and siblings??
5. What if we just sat down, and talked it all out? 

I feel like I took the long way to a simple point, but I think the only way to get there is to talk about the hard, and potentially uncomfortable things. Sure, I may talk about it a lot, but that's because it's important to me. As a woman, as an actress of color, and as a human being. 

I truly believe that art is a direct reflection of life, and I think most of my theatre and artist friends would agree. And if we're being truthful, life isn't seeing all white-bread families everywhere anymore. (Biracial, adoptive, and blended families, for example.) So why should our theatres show that? It's a direct misrepresentation of the world around us, and it's not 100% relatable to today's audiences. So even though I'm one person, I believe that I have the power to at least ignite the conversation. Join me, and together, we could change the world. 

******************

More Links: 

Diveristy in American Theater: From Catchphrase to Meaningful Change

Diversity in American Theater: The Mythology of Color Blind/Conscience Casting
On Valuing Diversity, Managing Diversity, and the Difference
"Random Black Girl" Composers: Kooman and Dimond

An Open Letter: When you take out the "Unity" in "Community"....

...You're left with "Comm" and that doesn't make sense. 
But unfortunately, someone took the "unity" out of community, and it's left me upset, hurt, and fearful. This post could get me into trouble, but to be honest, if I don't write it, I could say these things out loud and it would be far worse. So this is my open letter. (Disclaimer: Please don't consider this a direct call-out. Consider it an observation from the most observational person you know.) 

Dear...well, everyone,
Happy Tuesday and Merry Christmas! I hope your shopping is "wrapping" up and you're getting ready to spend time with family! The last week has been a good one for me. I got to see someone I love portray a very hard role onstage! My boyfriend was cast as George Bailey in "It's A Wonderful Life" and it was so amazing to see him in his first lead! We all know he's talented but this brought it to a whole new level. I'm so proud of him, and the rest of the cast was also really good. But to be fair, I'm a little biased.

What also impressed me about this production was the lack of people who I know love my boyfriend who weren't at the show. I know I shouldn't take it personally, but I'm taking it personally. Guilt trip: You missed a fantastic show, and I sincerely hope you're sad about that. In my clearly non-professional opinion, nothing about this show was unbalanced, or lacking, which is highly impressive.

A Few Questions: #1-Did you not see the show because you HATE feel-good plays? If yes, then you're excused. I don't understand it, but you're excused just the same. #2-Did you not see the show because someone did you dirty? If your answer is yes keep reading. If it's no, I'm giving you the chance to jump ship now.

Over the last few months, I've noticed a considerable amount of tension between adults. I'm just a kid, but nothing gets by kids very easily. There's been disrespect among people in the same profession who claim to be working towards the same goal: bringing people together in the name of theatre. Which, I personally think is an AMAZING thing. Now, I know there are a lot of things I don't know, or won't understand, and frankly, I don't care to know them or understand them. But I do care about people, and that's something that, to me, is far more valuable then ticket sales.
Theatre can't exist without people. But people won't come to the theatre if their expectations aren't met and superseded pre-production, during production, and as the cast is giving their final bow. I know of people who have quit theatre altogether because someone who was in a position of power said something that rubbed them the wrong way. As someone who wants to make a career out of theatre, I say, not cool, man. Not cool.

There's nothing more discouraging to me, a petite kid with big dreams, than hearing and seeing that there is no support or respect for fellow theatre practitioners.
I'm not suggesting that we all have to sit around a campfire, hold hands and sing "You'll Never Walk Alone," but as much as I LOATHE that song, I think the reminder in there is vital. We are never alone, and in theatre, there should be a whole different realm of support. If you love theatre, and truly want to bring it to the masses, causing dissonance within your company should NEVER be an option.

I honestly don't want to live or work in a world of theatre where I will someday have to tell my children that I ended my career because sometimes people don't play nice with others. I want to lead a life that my kids can look at and say, "Wow..she used everything for God's glory, and didn't have to sell out to be happy."
I want to promote the performing arts for all kids of younger generations, and I have a hard time doing that if I know deep down that there are issues that make me uncomfortable.

So this year, my Christmas prayer is that all issues get sorted out in a professional and friendly manner in this new year. I want my friends and I to feel free to travel between venues and companies without feeling like we're betraying one another. I pray that we can all put the "unity" back into "Community Theatre."

God Bless, and Merry Christmas!
Love,
-S.

Dreamspace -5/19/2013-

I walked onto the stage.  There was a man at the table

There was a body on the ground, bloody; bruised; beaten. 

he said "You know she would have wanted me to do this to her." 

Instantly I knew where I was. 

Everyone knows not to think about your dreams. Or you'll loose them. 

I refocus. Two more men at the table. It was clear who the one was:

rich. status. wealth.

But you could tell it was all fading into the past

And then I saw her; there she was. 

The most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

Anyone you talk to knows that she is tragically wrapped up in a beautiful lie of a life.

I sat next to her, suddenly aware of my large sweatshirt and sweatpats. 

She was clad with diamonds; pearls; love; tragedy.

I took her hand. 

She pressed mine against her cheek. 

I did the same. 

She looked deep into my eyes. 

And I wept. 

The rich man placed his hand on my shoulder and directed my attention to the slats in the back wall.

"There it is. See it? It's blinking. Like a heartbeat." 

The Green Light. 

I wanted to go there. I wanted to follow it's pulse, I wanted it to sweep me away. 

In my awakespace I knew that it was real at one time. I didn't know if it still existed. I never longed to know.

But seeing it now, I needed to go there. 

The beautiful woman drew a ragged breath, and said those iconic words: 

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." 

There is a beat; darkness; applause. The magic is gone.

 The icons fade. 

The body had slipped away, changing into curtain call clothes, I assume.

 I'm left with normal, everyday people, dressed in parts. 

We gather for our bow. 

I realize it's a dress rehearsal. 

I approach and do a goofy curtsy. 

We all stand centerstage;

 laughing; joking; talking about sports. 

Everything-- normal. 

We get lectured on curtain call etiquette. 

a boy questions: "Wait, we have to grab hands? Who does that anymore?" 

"Every Broadway cast." i reply. 

I turn to face the back of the stage. 

The light is gone. It was just a lighting effect.

Ironically, without it, my hope fades.

What do I trust now?

***

I sigh 

and 

I'm back. 

My awakespace slowly creeps in, and I reflect on the details. 

I realize:

 Even when I awake, I'm drawn to it. 

I'm determined: 

Someday, I will chase, and catch, that green light.