Well, okay, I was elected to the position, but I was the obvious choice at the time. Who else would have done it? And I did have enough guts to admit to my fellow youth that I had fallen prey to peer pressure that summer retreat by taking a puff off a joint before I threw it out the thirteenth story window. It was Us against Them, right? And all the Christians at DCHS had to unite.

But I was living a double life, making new friends. That was the year I started wearing a lot more black.

My new friend Mikayla, who I met in Play Production class, looked like the lead singer of Four Non Blondes. She fell out of a Pretty In Pink Movie, with her own style, her own opinions and her own way of scaring the hell out of high school boys. What made me like her though, was that she was so nice too – not an easy thing to come by with high school girls.

It was required for Play Production that each student attends one play a month and writes a review for our teacher, Mr. Payne. I had found a small local theater called Carpenter’s Square which was in the heart of downtown and produced the most controversial plays. But of course, I didn’t know it at time. One weekend Mikayla and I went to see Equus. The program said:
“EQUUS depicts the story of a deranged youth who blinds six horses with a spike. Through a psychiatrist's analysis of the events, Shaffer creates a chilling portrait of how materialism and convenience have killed our capacity for worship and passion and, consequently, our capacity for pain. The play explores questions about what is Normal and to what extent society will go to normalize people - or to lock them away somewhere if they can't be normalized.”

I took the opportunity away from my lockstep routine to dress a little less uniformed that night. Mikayla showed up in a long black skirt and her signature matching lipstick. I barely moved during the performance, and when it was over, I was sure I wouldn’t be telling my youth group about it. There was insanity, horses and finally, nudity. Looking back now, I remember the shock on Mr. Payne’s face when I told him we saw Equus. If there was an age requirement for that show, I suspect some scheming volunteers at the theater overlooked it. Mikayla and I were always the youngest patrons.

Another person who started going to plays with me was a tranfer student who ended up in Play Production only because he enrolled late. His name was Craig and he hardly uttered a word that wasn’t sarcastic or out of place. But he had true blonde hair and looked great in a pair of jeans, so I took him to the strangest performances I could find and hoped he’d eventually hold my hand. By the time we saw the Elephant Man, I was a seasoned pro and soaked up every scene. We were invited to the cast party where Mikayla lit up a cigarette on a long stem filter like she was Greta Garbo. I had a glass of champagne and eyed the lead actor through the smokey haze.

My secret world of theater was one pleasure in my life that went unchallenged by my conservative friends because they knew nothing at all about it. As long as the title was tame, I could have been watching live porn for all they knew. Of course, this wasn’t the case, but that fact alone was a learning experience. Even before radio stations started playing 2 Live Crew, I sat in Carpenter Square Theater and learned what art is.

Several years later I was in the audience of another Oklahoma City theater and watched Craig’s on stage performance in the most moving, disturbing play I have ever seen – The Metaphor. His character as tortured Man was so believable; I struggled not to jump onto the stage to rescue him. If the Metaphor were a movie that year, Craig earned an Oscar. Who knew that within that fair haired, shy boy was a genius actor with depth beyond words?

And that is precisely my point. If art, in whatever form, has a purpose, perhaps it is to draw out of us the people we really are. All the emotion, whether it be anger, contempt, delirium, tears or unbroken laughter, this is who we are. Nobody can paint a portrait, sing a song or dance in such a way that it MAKES you feel anything. Good art simply makes you see something about yourself you didn’t see before – even if that something is a dislike for the feelings inside you. A crazy photographer I once worked with said “I can’t make you feel anything. How you feel and react to a situation is your choice.”

Get to know yourself. Experience art.

Penny René
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Suggestions for theater pleasure:
Art – by Yasmina Reza
How I Learned to Drive – by Paula Vogel
Equus – by Peter Shaffer
Why Hannah’s Skirt Won’t Stay Down - by Tom Eyen