As we gear up to celebrate Pride Month here in Polk County, I can’t help but think about how lucky I am to have spent a good portion of my life volunteering and working in a theater.
I am the Producing Director at Theatre Winter Haven, but the first play I ever did was a production of THE KING AND I at age 5. Most of my life has been informed by the values I learned in a dark theater. Because I was a theater kid, I have been blessed to know and love members of the LBGTQ community long before I knew how to shave.
One of the lessons I learned is that a theater is a safe place for those who society hasn’t always embraced. I learned that people I loved and admired inside the theater could be victimized outside of it, just for being who they are.
I wish the whole world could be more like a community theater. Because theater, especially community theater, is the one place in the world where being different, being weird, being strange is considered an asset instead of a reason to be bullied or ridiculed.
The people I work with are wonderfully odd, magically bizarre, and absolutely march to the beat of their own drummer… (but we ALWAYS clap on the 2 and 4… we are weirdos, not barbarians). In Community Theater, we don’t care about race, sexual orientation or identification, if someone is on the spectrum, or even your age. ART transcends all that other stuff.
HECK, we don’t even care if you can act, sing, or dance – because there are a hundred other ways to be part of our community. Sets need to be built, costumes need to be made, tickets need to be sold, and patrons need to be seated. There is something for everyone. Community Theater is a safe place, especially for those who don’t fit in easily.
We are a band of misfits. All are WELCOME.
In fact, theater has ALWAYS been the home of the disenfranchised, the outcasts, the marginalized. Theater has ALWAYS been an island of acceptance in a frequently cruel world.
And the world has often been disproportionately cruel to members of the LBGTQ community.
The first Community Theaters were in ancient Greece. And, like the community theaters of today, they attracted the quirky, the different, and those who lived outside the mainstream. The comedies of ancient Greece championed the underserved… the butt of the jokes were always the rich and famous and powerful. At the same time, they celebrated those who were, well, fabulous.
Long before there was a RuPaul’s Drag Race, Greek comedies were exploring nuances of gender roles and homosexuality. Then, like now, the theater welcomed and embraced the gay community. I think it takes a similar type of courage to be openly gay or transexual as it does to be successful in theater. There is a fearlessness to embracing one’s true self and being comfortable with that. I contend it is that same brand of fearlessness that makes one shine on stage.
The charge of a Community Theater is more than just putting together pieces of entertainment. Our higher purpose is to make our communities better places to live, to work, and to play by making our citizens – especially our underserved citizens – the focus of everything we do.
We are black, we are white, we are gay, we are straight, we are Christian and not; we are young and old we are liberal and conservative and we couldn’t be more eclectic or different. But we are a family. We genuinely care and love one another.
THE TRADITION CONTINUES AT THEATRE WINTER HAVEN.
The world is a different (and better) place than it was when I was a kid, but we still have a lot of work to do.
I am proud that we continue to be a safe place for members of the LBGTQ community. Especially for young gay people throughout Polk County. It warms my heart to see the unlikely friendships that are built on our stage and know that these kids are learning the same lessons that I learned as a kid in a theater. I am equally proud that we have role models for these kids who have unimpeachable character, warm and kind hearts, and would walk through fire to protect them. Many of these role models happen to be gay.
For those times one needs an escape from the harsh realities of the world, theater offers an opportunity to pretend to be someone else and somewhere else every single day. We get to create worlds that are free from prejudice and full of grand adventure. Within our walls and on our stage we get to drop our labels and be whoever the script dictates we be. For a few hours each day, we get to leave the outside world behind.
The fact is, Community Theater is a place where people who are not yet comfortable in their skin can find a home as easily as those who have already learned to celebrate what makes them different.
In theater, we love people to be unique. No one ever got a starring role by being just like everyone else at an audition. Part of the job description for an artist – especially an actor – is standing out, and that doesn’t happen by fitting in. We admire the differences in each other and, in time, those who struggle with who they are realize that’s what makes them unique also makes them great – both as actors and as humans.
The best part about community theater is that, not only are we welcoming and accepting, we are an antidote to loneliness. There are some problems in our world that are too big and too complex to comprehend. But if isolation and loneliness are part of those problems – then more people need to find a community theater and play with us. I promise there is a friend somewhere in the wings of a theater – and that friend won’t care if you are gay or not. I invite all members of the LBGTQ community to come and work with us. I am sure you will find a welcoming home.
