Tink

My musical had it's third workshop performance this weekend. I sat in the far back corner, as I like to do. I can't even comprehend it anymore. I feel like a meteorologist in the theatre. Ticking down laughs and quiet spaces. I can answer a question for the director, recognize a complication in a line, and revise lyrics immediately. I love that feeling. But when I watch generally, it's mush. I've spent years with this story. I treat it like the painting of Buddha in the kitchen. Nine times out of ten if someone mentions "the Buddha painting" I ask, "What are you talking about?"

An interesting thing about my work is I am an educator at heart, but people don't love to be educated for some reason in theatre. I do. I love being educated in theatre. But, okay, I guess sometimes I recognize I prickle when I feel a piece is teaching me something I know. And then I have to be very patient, when, for example, a pretty good play at The Goodman right now has a huge section of text about why some people prefer "they" as their gender pronouns. I'm like oh come on did I just turn on Degrassi? (Also I love Degrassi, so my complaints are even more obnoxious) But then I remember The Goodman's average viewer doesn't know about "they" stuff. Heck the gay bi-racial, interfaith artist couple I worked for when I first landed here hated the concept of "they." "Bad grammar" they both cited over and over.

So like, how do you educate without letting anyone know you're doing it? And how to you not mansplain inside comedy? And also 80% of the time I feel like this little "art for social change" is stupid because children are in cages and I donated money and contacted Congress and I know I am kidding myself that's barely reason to feel like I worked for change. And I worry it will not be resolved and I worry I will become complacent because it's just so much easier. I'm sorry, I tell the golden egg inside myself. I'm sorry I am lazier than I want to be. But then I run an improv workshop for social workers and they feel so proud of themselves and laugh so hard and tell me how it's going to help so much, and then I'm like, okay okay I believe again. I clap my hands for Tinkerbell.