Artists I admire: The actors and director for A Raisin in the Sun at Brooklyn High School of the Arts

On March 7, I attended the 2nd Annual Shubert Foundation High School Theatre Festival held at the Winter Garden Theatre and presented in collaboration with the New York City Department of Education. Very interesting event. I gained some valuable insights into the plays teachers choose to have their students perform and what the adjudicators of the competition deemed to be the strongest five productions out of the 20 that were viewed for the competition. The evening featured some truly great choices and some curious ones. The event provided lots of teachable moments for me in my classes that week, particularly in my acting class as we talked about type casting and culturally aware casting.

The highlight of the evening for me came when Brooklyn High School of the Arts took the stage with excerpts from their production of A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry directed by Lisanne Shaffer. I teach this play at least once a year in a course at NYU, sometimes more, but I've only seen it once in performance. I think the story of the Younger family has the potential to resonate for people across a variety of communities because it deals very specifically with class differences while also revealing the struggles of an African American family in Chicago in the 1950s.

The scene excerpts performed by these young people illustrated a deep understanding of the stakes for the characters in the play, as well as the struggles caused for the family members by interval and external forces. It is rare in my experience to see young people effectively play age, meaning that when young people play much older than their experience warrants, I often find the performances to feel forced and to lack depth and clarity. Not the case here. These young actors understood the given circumstances and what was at stake for each of the characters in the play, and they calibrated their interactions with one another using very specific choices rather than trafficking in broad stereotypes. I was particularly impressed by the performance of the young woman playing Lena Younger, the matron of the family. Lena's plight is potentially the most difficult for a young actor to understand as the character tries to navigate the different wants and desires of her children while still staying true to her own goal of owning a home and honoring the memory of her late husband. This young actress, Sydney Plaza, is a gifted young performer, and I believed her at every single moment in her journey on stage. She was surrounded by an equally talented group of young people who committed fully to the anger and frustration and sadness required of their characters, and I was quite moved as I watched them invest so deeply in this story and triumph in the final moments of their presentation. I won't forget them or the work of their director, as it truly was a privilege to see this group perform.

For full on commitment to their artistry, for making me gasp more than once as I watched their work on stage, and for bringing Lorraine Hansberry's characters to life through their elegant performances and direction on that Broadway stage on March 7, Sydney Plaza, Marcus Edward, Kiana Gourdine, Imani Alleyne, Jajhanna Gillings, Michael Desmangles, Kiara Mazariegos, and Lisanne Shaffer are the artists that I admire for this week.

Dear Senator Cruz, do you have a moment?

Dear Senator Cruz:

I know you're really busy running for President and all, but this will be quick. I hope you have time to answer my questions.

I read that given the recent attacks in Brussels you've now called to "patrol and secure Muslim neighborhoods" across the United States. I'm sure lots of your fan base agree and think this is a great idea, so I just wanted to ask a few follow up questions:

Did you call for similar patrolling and securing of White, Christian neighborhoods after the school shooting at Sandy Hook? Or the movie theatre shooting in Aurora? Or the Planned Parenthood shooting in Colorado Springs?

And when you and I were just 23 years old, and two White, radicalized American citizens blew up a federal building in Oklahoma City, did you think that the U. S. should be patrolling White, Christian neighborhoods then?

I mean, I'm just curious. Did you feel that way then or is this an "evolving" position, like so many of you and your presidential counterparts on both sides like to tout? For the record, I respect evolving positions when they're genuine, not when they're used to get my vote.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on these questions, particularly since you're so close to God and seem to embrace all the teachings of the Bible. We're in the middle of this Holy Week, commemorating the suffering and death of Christ, and I can't help but think that your call for more patrolling of Muslim neighborhoods reminds me a bit of those times. Makes me think that you'd gladly have handed over Barrabas, just like Pilate did, because you'll do whatever the screaming masses think is right. It's not very Christ-like, Senator Cruz, and for someone who kicked off his campaign at Liberty University, I'd like to think that you have some more Christ-like qualities.

But actually, now that I think about it, you're more of an Old Testament kind of guy, so you like it the way things were. Pre-Christ. Before He came to save the people of the world from themselves. Before "turn the other cheek" and the Golden Rule. You like the "eye for an eye" vengeance part of Christianity, the God who punishes people.

You and a lot of other people seem to like that God. A lot. Me? Not so much. That God doesn't seem so Christ-like to me.

So as you continue to make these calls for Old Testament-type approaches to the world, I'd love for you to answer some of my questions along the way. And here's one final question for your consideration: When are you going to suggest these types of policies for people who might actually deserve them, not just the people that you and your fan base are afraid of?

Looking forward to your responses,

Joe Salvatore

At Capacity--Scene 15: Predictions

(Claire is alone smoking a cigarette. Outside in late afternoon, at sunset. She’s in a cemetery, standing over the burial plots of her parents. She takes a puff of the cigarette, inhales deeply, and then blows the smoke out slowly.)

CLAIRE (to herself)

So what do we do now?

(Claire looks down at the plots. Takes another puff. Blows out. Waits. Asks again but this time directs it to the plots.)

So what do we do now? (no answer) Hello? . . . Anybody home? . . . The least you two could do is send a little advice from beyond. You know, like a “Keep going, Claire! We’ve got your back.” Or how about a “Keep your chin up, Claire! It’ll all get better soon!”

(She waits for a response. Nothing. Takes a puff of the cigarette. Holds it in. Lets it out. Drops the cigarette, rubs it out, takes a pack and a lighter from her pocket, and lights another one. Puts them back in her pocket. Looks at the plots.)

I know. . . . I know, I know, I know. These things are gonna kill me. I know. That’s what you always said, Dad, and I stopped for a long time. But since you’ve been gone, things have gotten pretty rough around here, so old habits come back hard. (Claire waits for a response. Nothing.) You know, you two really did it this time. You really made a mess of everything. I mean a giant mess. Not just a little mess that’s just taking awhile to clean up, but something that’s not going away anytime soon no matter which way I scrub it.

(Claire takes a puff of the cigarette and just looks at the graves in silence.)

You know, I’m starting to think you two did this on purpose. Steve and I have both told you a zillion times to wear your seat belts and you just don’t listen. And then you go driving late at night on a dark road that you know has a lot of curves. All sorts of curves. And it’s snowing, of course, because you two have to go shopping when it’s snowing. We’ve told you about that too, but you just do whatever the hell you want with complete disregard for the consequences. You just don’t care. Snowy curve, slick spot, going just a little too fast, not paying attention because you’re singing along to the goddamned Christmas fucking music and whammo.  WHAMMO!

(Claire smashes her hands together, drops the cigarette, picks it up, takes a drag, and continues.)

Whammo. And it’s over. You two are over. Late 60s, retired, shouldn’t have a care in the world, and you two wrap yourselves around a fucking tree in the middle of a light snow at 10:30 at night. (Claire takes a drag.) What were you thinking? Huh? Did you really have to do this now? (She waits for an answer. Nothing.) People say that it’s really great to talk to dead people, say the things you wanted to say while they were alive but you didn’t say them. Somebody else told me to write you a letter. (Claire scoffs at this and takes another drag.) I tried the letter part, and I got three sentences in and stopped. “Dear Mom and Dad, how are you? How is heaven? I hope good. Things are the same here--  That’s where it got dicey. Cause things are not the same here, and I’ve never been a good liar. I never lied to you very well, you always knew when I was lying and it made for a really shitty childhood. No sneaking around for me. I was too much of an open book. I hate being a crap liar. Lying can be really useful I find. Sometimes.

(Claire takes a drag off of the cigarette. Thinks about what she just said. Makes a connection and begins to lecture her parents a bit.)

You see, it’s kinda like what you did about Uncle Steve all these years, you just kinda lied and pretended none of it happened, and as long as you two were alive, we just all pretended too. “Don’t talk about it and it never happened. Don’t look Julia in the eye when she comes home for Christmas, and it never happened. Don’t tell Steve that he’s named after a child molester, and it never happened. (Claire finishes the cigarette and tosses the butt to the ground.) Do you two have any idea what a mess you’ve left behind? Do you? (No answer.)  DO YOU? Well. lemme tell you. Julia is completely lost, like in a psych ward, Steve is about to have a breakdown, and I’m—Well, I’m--  You know what?  I’m trying to hold them together and self-destructing at the same time. It’s just great. Feels swell, Mom and Dad. Just like old times. Just like old times. . . . .  When you two were alive, we all just pretended so we wouldn’t upset you. We knew that upsetting you was a bad choice, but the consequences don’t seem to be much better for all of us since you up and left us here to deal with the aftermath. . . . You fucking left us here to deal with the aftermath of that ugly, ugly secret, that neither of you would ever acknowledge. . . .  That’s why Julia never came home. Stopped coming home for birthdays, holidays, and then just stopped all together. Sure, she said it was because of work and the long hours and dealing with the holiday shifts, but that wasn’t the truth. She had to stop coming home because that house has so many bad memories buzzing in it that she can’t stay sane when she’s in there. And so you two up and die and then she has to come home. She makes it through your funeral and all the people saying how wonderful you both were, and she never says a word to contradict that. After what you did to her, she still smiles and sheds tears and pretends that the two of you were these amazing parents. All three of us did. Steve didn’t know any better, so no loss of energy for him, but Julia and I? We had to be Meryl Streep and Helen Mirren at your wake.  And you two just laid there and soaked it all in. Not a peep. No confession, no acknowledgement, no afterlife signs. Just those sewed up still lips, just like in real life, but this time without the smile to go along with it.

(Claire thinks about this for a moment, and she gets angry.)

How could you do it?  HOW COULD YOU JUST LET THAT HAPPEN TO JULIA? OVER AND OVER AGAIN? WHY WAS THAT OK FOR UNCLE STEVE TO DO IT OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN?

(Claire is crying now. She tries to collect herself, but it’s not much use.)

He did that stuff to Julia for eight years. And you just ignored it. She tried to tell you. I tried to tell you. But you two just acted like we were blowing it all out of proportion. “He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just tickling her.” She tried to tell you it hurt. I tried to tell you that one time how red she was “down there” like raw from whatever he did to her, and you, Mom, you told Julia to stop rubbing herself! I mean, how could you? How could you blame it on Julia?  She didn’t do anything! And then you did nothing to help her. NOTHING!

(Claire turns and starts to walk away, like she’s had enough, but she stops and comes back.)

And now that you’re gone, the dam just broke and the flood’s bearing down on all of us. I’m not sure how much longer Julia’s gonna be here, and if she ends up where you are, you two better watch out. She’ll come after you with a vengeance, and I don’t blame her. I don’t know where you are, if you’re anywhere at all, but if she finds you, it’s not gonna be pretty, not pretty at all. She’s got a lot to say, and I doubt you’re gonna be ready to hear it. But you both deserve it. After what you did to her, to all of us, and then left us like this, you deserve whatever she has to say and then some. You deserve it.

(Claire takes one last look at the plots, turns to go, then turns back and picks up the cigarette butts that she had left behind. She walks off as the lights fade. End of scene.)

Artists I admire: Vera Perez

So I like to think that people can be artists in lots of different ways. To be an artist, a person needs to display a high level of artistry in a particular area, and that might not necessarily be something that we usually associate with the words "artist" or "artistic."  This week's artist I admire falls into that category. She might not consider herself an artist, but based on my definition, she most certainly is. She's been an artist of the highest order in her work as a security guard at NYU. The artist I admire for this week is Vera Perez.

Officer Vera Perez retired this past week from NYU after 27 years of service as a security guard, with 22 of those years being in Pless Hall. My office is located in that building, as is a small black box theatre where we teach and produce plays. Vera worked the late afternoon/evening shift, and she has been at that front desk through it all. Every major weather event, Vera was at her post. Every production we staged and rehearsed in that theatre, Vera was there, graciously allowing us to run over our scheduled time, ribbing us gently when we finally left, but with a twinkle in her eye that let us know that she understood. Vera understood that making theatre takes time and a team effort. She was always part of the team because of that generous spirit of hers, and on top of that, she often came out to support our productions as an audience member.

Vera knew all of the students and all of the students knew her. Her last day happened over Spring Break, as I think she knew it might be easier that way. The students, like all of us, love and respect Vera, because she sends that kind of love and respect out into the world. It was not unusual to see Vera listening carefully to a student in some form of distress and then offering the appropriate and helpful piece of advice to seek out an NYU resource. And it wasn't just students. Vera did that for me and I'm sure many other faculty and staff members as well. She was very kind to both of my partners, and she showed much compassion and care for me when my first partner passed away from cancer. We had only known each a couple of years at that point, but Vera was beyond supportive.

When my colleagues and I had a little send off for Vera last week, it was crystal clear how much of a member of our family she had become. While she is off to new adventures, I sincerely hope that our paths cross again through visits and Facebook and whatever other channels present themselves.

For being a class act from the moment I met her through her last day on the job, for illustrating the artistry of being an amazing security person who can show sensitivity and care while maintaining a safe and secure environment, for understanding how safety and security promote learning, for being part of our artistic team through her generous support, and for being an all around great human being, Vera Perez is the artist I admire this week.

Congratulations, Vera! You will be missed, but we wish you the best of luck with all of your new adventures!

Dear Secretary Clinton, Just some how and why would be great.

I felt pretty clear about my presidential vote until last Friday. I've been a Hillary Clinton supporter for a long time now, and she was my choice. Then she made that inane comment about Nancy Reagan fighting a quiet fight for AIDS, and I got really upset. I'm no learned scholar in this area, but I've read enough and talked to enough people over the years to know that equating the Reagans in any way with helping to fight the AIDS crisis is bad news and just plain wrong. I'm not going to rehash all the reasons why, as far more articulate people have done so.

People tell me not to be surprised. That Hillary is just out for herself, and she'll say and do anything to be President. I resisted that oversimplification of what I believe to be a very complex person in the middle of a complicated and ugly political season. And then I read her apology posted on Medium. Lots of people are citing the apology as a moment of humility and respect and blah, blah, blah. While it's true there's an apology in there, the piece is more about touting her own record on HIV and AIDS and proclaiming what she'll do in the future.

But where's the explanation about how the comment happened in the first place?  I read one person's comment that said that Hillary Clinton was tired and misspoke. No. Unacceptable. Another person cited some published source that said that Nancy Reagan really pushed for a response to the AIDS crisis from inside the White House, that her sphere of influence was greater once her husband had at least acknowledged the existence of the disease. Possible, but I don't know the source. If that's what prompted Secretary Clinton's comments about Nancy Reagan, why no mention of it in her apology?

So how did this happen? Why did it happen? Was Secretary Clinton saying this about Nancy Reagan to try and get some swing voters who have sentimental feelings about the Reagans and the "city on the hill"? Great imagery from Ron, but those times are past. Is Hillary Clinton suffering from amnesia? If so, I'm not sure she should be running for President. And after all the work she claims to have done in the name of the LGBTQ community, can she really not have known that a choice to mythologize Nancy Reagan around this issue would cause an uproar?

I understand we want to say nice things about dead people. I have nothing against saying nice things about the Reagans. I played Ronald Reagan in a mock election in the 7th grade. We won. I've recovered. It's fine. I wish neither of them ill will in the afterlife. But why are we making things up? There were plenty of other nice things that Secretary Clinton could have said about Nancy Reagan that day, yet she chose to say this. Even if it came up on a teleprompter or on notes that she was handed or out of the mouth of someone coaching her before the appearance, she is smart enough and experienced enough to have made a different choice.

Or is she?

That's the question I'm left with, and that's why I'm not so sure about my vote anymore. Sorry Liberal Friends, I feel no Bern whatsoever, nada, zilch, largely because I don't think anything he's proposed will have an iota of traction in the divided nation we live in. Sorry to be pessimistic, but that's the reality. Secretary Clinton has represented the best choice in my mind to step into a terrible situation of a divided Congress and try to do more damage control. That's what she did as Secretary of State, and I think she can do that as President. I love when my Republican friends like to accuse Secretary Clinton of doing nothing as Secretary of State. "What did she accomplish? Name one thing." Uh, she put on an industrial strength diplomatic HazMat Suit and waded her way around the world through the toxicity left behind by eight years of foreign policy debacle and she survived. Unfortunately, she chose to do it with a private email server, so no one remembers the diplomatic HazMat Suit. And yes, as a senator, she voted for the Iraq War. So did a lot of other people. And there were a lot of bystanders waving their American flags when they did it, so I'm tired of hearing that too.

I've tried to be forgiving about the email server and the 225K speeches and the list goes on, but for some reason, Friday really did me in. I know I'm not the only one. It was all over social media, and I tried to read the various comments of people whose opinions I respect from both sides, and then I finally just deleted Facebook from my phone. It's too depressing.

So what do I want from Secretary Clinton? I want what The New York Times Editorial Board asked for today: transparency. I don't want apologies or a list of accomplishments or a list of what's going to happen if I vote for her. I want to hear why she made these choices. Why and how. And not some canned response that was prepped for her. I'd like her to sit down one-on-one with someone and tell the truth. Then I can make a decision about what to do with my vote.

We talk about teacher transparency and vulnerability and how powerful those attributes can be in teachers when we're trying to educate people. Well, maybe they can be Presidential as well.