I have to tell you about my first time seeing the musical Cabaret. It was just a few weeks ago, and it was a student-run production at Bard College.

And it was spectacular. And I don’t just say that because my daughter was in it. (Although, all you other Sally Bowleses can retire because nobody will ever do it better.) No, I say that because it really was spectacular, and she was amazing, but so was the whole cast, from Emcee to Kit Kat Club boys and girls, and all points in between. One of the most telling points about how amazing I found this production is the fact, a two weeks-plus later, I’m still thinking about it.

While letting the characters of Sally, Cliff, the Emcee, Frl. Kost, and the other roll around my head, I started to consider the power of theatre itself. And why I wish the world could be a little more theatre-oriented. Because in theatre, I’ve seen and experienced things that I have found rare in the “real world”. I’m not saying these things don’t exist outside of the theatre-world, but they can be much harder to locate. While I always knew this, I hadn’t ever really sat down to consider it. What brought it to light for me was the diversity in the cast of Cabaret. As body-positive, gender-fluid, all inclusive as you can imagine. (I can hear the battle-cries of conservatives now, to which I can only say the following: get over it.)

I don’t want to pick this apart too much, though my English lit degree usually prods me in the back with a pitchfork saying “Find the theme, find the imagery, find the symbolism!” No, this is not meant to be a dissertation-level breakdown. This is just me relating to you, the reader, why the theatre world may be among the most comfortable spaces on the planet, and one of my favorite places in the world.

Tolerance

I have never found a place where a person is welcome no matter their race, creed, gender, sexuality, or any other category that people seem to need. The drive to categorize things is irrepressible throughout human history, and our current culture is no different. Yet, in theatre, while all these different categories exist, nobody cares.

I’m not being myopic, clearly not everybody gets along with everyone else. There are rivalries and feuds and bad blood, of course there is. These are humans after all. There are good productions and bad productions and griping and kvetching. But it is a rarity when such acrimony is based on some arbitrary categorization of a person into some group that needs laws to protect them because humans can’t be trusted to do the right thing.

Emotional Connection

One of the primary powers of live theatre is just that: it’s live. I know plenty of people who get emotional at Hallmark movies, or commercials with kittens. I’m not one of them. I tend to watch things with a something of a detachment. (Unless it’s horror, which I have a hard time with because I can’t stand jump-scares.) It’s the same with reading. I can read a book that makes other weep, but not me. While horror movies tend not to be my thing, I love a good horror novel, but I have yet to find a horror novel that scares me. It’s not that I don’t get sucked into page-turners, I because I do. I just don’t get scared by them.

But live theatre? When it’s in front of you, the people are flesh and blood, not pixels on your flatscreen, not ink marks on your pages, it’s a whole different ball of wax. It’s that visceral connection to what is happening in front of you, sometimes mere feet from where you are sitting, that demands your attention and your emotion. And that’s not even beginning to talk about what it’s like to be in a production, part of the story, inhabiting a character. I’ve been more emotional in or at theatre productions in the last few years than anywhere else in the “real world”.

Finding Joy

Without naming names, I’m going to tell you about a friend of mine. He and his significant other suffered through a rather traumatic home experience. This experience ended up involving lawyers, insurance companies, and years of ongoing strife. To the point where his significant other began to suffer health consequences.

At a recent community theatre musical production, in which this friend was a member of the ensemble, his significant attended. Usually he attends once and that’s enough. But he so enjoyed the production so much he attended four of the performances, and some of his health issues began to lessen. So powerful was the joy he found in the production that his physical health began to improve.

Safe Space (especially for trans people)

Let’s start out with a bold statement: fuck J.K. Rowling. Sorry if you’re a fan, and I’ll admit I used to be, but she’s shown herself to be a horrible bigot when it comes to gender issues. I’ve heard people talk about problem and blame the “trans crowd”, words that made me shudder with rage. And I’ll bet, if asked, these people have never met a trans person, or if they did, they didn’t know they were a trans person.

I have never found a more welcoming place for the trans community than in theatre. Theatre is a safe space for this community, a place where they can be themselves, even when they can’t be themselves elsewhere, at work, at home, in public. And when they are themselves in these space, the reactions to them can be volatile and filled with vitriol.

What I would say to any trans person is that, if you are having trouble finding a welcoming place, head down to your local community theatre where I suspect you’ll be welcome with open arms.

Summing It All Up

So, what’s the point I’m trying to make with all my rambling? That’s easy.

Theatre is where I have found some of the best of what humanity can do. And I wish the rest of the human race could experience what theatre kids already know.