Sing Sing

This made me miss it. I was 15, we were performing Wizard of Oz at the time at my high school; right before the first performance a friend I’d made through the show that semester asked me to walk out with them to the back alley near the drama room. Within minutes they were sobbing, overwhelmed with a lot of matters in their life and on top the pressure of performing seemed like too much to carry.  There were so many vulnerable moments like this that happened with people I’d met in that very drama club, so when Paul Raci speaks to the group about that vulnerability and the openness to express one’s self through performance, my mind raced to those moments from when I was a teen, still confused out of my mind about crushes and friendships and my future, feelings that everyone around me was dealing with, no matter how much of a front they put up to hide them away.  Sing Sing is a world far removed from mine, and yet I can feel the same heart from these performances that I felt when performing with my peers back then. The words “As Himself” are so heartwarming because being on that stage means you’re putting a piece of you out there, and that’s what these men did.  I really loved this. I really did.