all the world's a stage and the men and women are fighting for who gets the spotlight

Since I had any notion of space, I have looked for a stage on which to perform and attract the spotlight of attention.  The house in which I spent my childhood had several stages.  The front porch, the archway between the dining and living room, and even the strip of asphalt at the back of the house where my mother’s clothesline hung sheets to make a curtain all became the proscenium framework of my productions.  Sometimes there was an audience – the traffic passing down Shrewsbury Street, my babysitters, or whoever was assembled in the backyard for a cookout.  Better yet, we lived next door to a defunct radio station with giant art deco stone steps, perfect for playing out the stories and dances my mind created.

Life dealt me some lessons of humility throughout my youth.  Even though I always thought of myself as the star of my life production, I wasn’t often considered lead material.  But even before I attained official adulthood, I was granted an opportunity to be the real star of plays… the director who is (or whom I believed at the time) the god of production.

 

I have written about the lessons of humility and ego bruising theater has dealt me.  Sometimes I think I’m the better for it.  Sometimes I think I am still the imp who seeks the limelight.  But there was a realization as I ended my twenties that there are other stars in the world of theater.  Sometimes they get the credit.  Sometimes they don’t want the credit.  They have their own world, their own sense of fun, their own way of being gods.  Techies are as much the reason a play goes on – or maybe THE reason that magic happens between the disaster of dress rehearsal and the miracle of opening night.

I no longer go to a show and just see the actor or the director sitting in smug critique of the night at the back of the auditorium.  I see the black clothed people moving around in the dark, re-setting the stage in a deft matter of minutes.  I see the lights transition and create beauty, time, and space.  I see the people sweeping and washing up as the actors stand in the corridor after the bows, accepting  the credit.

I am generalizing here.  I know a lot of theaters where actors, directors, and techies are one and the same.  But I was reminded of this culture this week as I saw an absurd debate of a sentence taken out of context from our president.  

I’m going to be honest.  I didn’t watch the speech.  Most of what I gleaned is from text liberal and conservative interpreting what he said… and how offensive or how true it was.  It reminded me of something Elizabeth Warren said a few months back.

The political ‘right’ has decided both Obama and Warren are mean and offensive, denying credit to those who accomplished great things.  That it is insensitive to suggest that the successful are not successful because they should have to acknowledge they are part of a larger machine of effort.

I hear that whining and think of the diva who yells at the costumer for stitching a dress in a way that makes her look frumpy or snaps at a stage hand to get out of the way while moving the furniture.  The one who takes the bow, gets mention in the review, and leaves the theater with all her adoring fans while those techies wash up the dishes and set the stage for the next night.  

Yes, that actress works hard.  I’ve been her… and I know I’ve had those obnoxious moments.  I cringe that I’ve done it… but that’s part of the reason I became a techie.  To get the perspective… to make myself a better director.  You could argue there wouldn’t be a show without that actress.  Maybe no one would come see it and pay for tickets if it wasn’t for her.  But… how would anyone see her if someone didn’t turn on the lights?

Look, Republicans, you have every right to criticize our President and the future Senator Warren.  But, can’t you pick something better to whine about than who gets the credit for the show?    Everyone should get a bow.  Even if it is a generalized hand gesture before the lights go down.  It doesn’t diminish the spotlight focused on the star.  It just shows the star understands the spotlight doesn’t turn on by itself.