It’s the morning after BackStory and my first experience of telling my own story to an audience in the theatre.
Fortunately there were some friends and my daughter in the audience, which was reassuring and the lights were so strong you could only see the first couple of rows. Someone in the left side of the audience had a wonderful chuckle, which fueled me. I soon forgot why I was nervous and, warmed by the connection to the people listening and watching, launched into the tale.
A couple of strangers came up to me afterwards and said how much they related to the story. The odds of them having alligators under their house or a head-on contact with a Texas mule, were fairly small, so I guessed it was being bullied by an authority figure. If hearing it helped them in any way I am glad.
Let me say that I realized I was the oldest on the stage by a good 10 or 15 years. And I was reminded about a recent back and forth I had about age with someone on Facebook. A video had been posted of an incumbent governor in the South dismissing a young woman who very respectfully asked if his stand had been influenced by donations from interested corporations. In the comments a young man, annoyed by the reactions of the governors supporters insulting the young woman, posted that old people should “get out of the way” and go and play golf. I responded by suggesting that he not confuse ignorance with age and to check out the number of gray heads at activist meetings. His reply was that we old people had created all the problems that his generation had inherited and now had to fix. I remembered hearing that about the Cold War and the Vietnam War from different generations (including my own). We all need to be in the process of making change, young and old.
So back to the stage last night, in the theme of a delicate balance, we heard stories about being a young bi-racial man and being forced to choose the race that the world perceived in you; we heard middle-aged questioning abut the meaning of this modern urban life; a young shy poet wrestled with relationships, trust and being a woman. Two other stories were about marriages ending – both fictional – one presenting the perspective of a young confused child, the other a spouse and what can be learned about self in that partnership. The paradox of growth and endings.
As always, Back Story, and other programs like it, encourage voices of many who might not realize they have stories – or that they are speaking on behalf of others silent and unknown- all part of the human condition.
My own response to last night? I learned that even the most polished performers feel nervous beforehand and that the state of anxiety is different and separate from the actual performance – if we allow ourselves to trust the creative process. And I am grateful not to have performed in front of a hostile audience.