“Dear Evan Hansen, today is gonna be a great day, and here’s why…” These are the words that you hear repeated over and over again in one of Broadway’s most inspiring and soul-touching musicals, Dear Evan Hansen.
This musical is about acceptance and understanding that the people around you have struggles. It’s about noticing the kids that stand in the back corner waiting to be seen. It’s about seeing that some people genuinely do not have friends, and you should welcome them into your life before they’re gone.
Ben Levi Ross plays anxiety ridden Evan Hansen. He perfectly captured the nervous stuttering and the hesitant movements of a shaky teen. Evan is a senior in high school who fakes a secret friendship with Connor Murphy to soothe Connor’s parents after his suicide.
I believe the only thing that doesn’t ring true of this portrayed anxiety is that, had Evan truly been as anxious as the writers made him to be, if he had truly been that anxious, he would have known that the creation of an entirely fake scenario that was Connor and Evan’s friendship.
Reach out to people. Even the quiet guy that you think may be weird, or maybe it’s the artsy girl that just doesn’t talk to anyone. No one deserves to be forgotten. Sometimes a nice smile from a stranger in the hallway does so much. You’re never too good to be nice.
A few months ago, I was fortunate enough to be cast in my school’s production of Mamma Mia! as Ali (one of the main character’s best friends). Going into this process, I didn’t feel so fortunate; I was immediately disappointed with the role I got and how little I felt noticed in the audition process. I had this chip on my shoulder towards the directors and all that the cast list represented.
Lisa, Sophie, and Ali in the movie version of Mamma Mia!
I learned the 21 lines I had and memorized the notes and lyrics to the only song I was featured in–all with a dash of bitterness. However, it was my counterpart, my Lisa, that ended up being my light in this process.
A super basic background of Ali and Lisa is that they’re Sophie’s (the main character’s) best friends and soon to be bridesmaids. However, that’s pretty much all the background we get. We don’t know how Sophie met them. We don’t know where they’re from, so we brainstormed. We created these whole stories about these characters, and I think that was the first moment I knew that my Lisa and I were going to get close.
From that point on, our relationship turned into surprise French Vanilla Hazelnut Iced Coffees (with cream and sugar) when we knew the other was having a busy day or rough morning, late night phone calls about nothing and everything, and perfectly timed reminders that we care.
Our Final Bow as Ali and Lisa
My Lisa and I had known each other; we had hung out in groups a few times before. We even went to prom together my sophomore year, but by no means were we “close.” It took one day, one rehearsal for me to recognize that this person was going to become my best friend . Since that one day where we were jumping like goof balls behind that gym mat, I’ve only grown to love Mikayla Metts with my whole heart, and I am forever grateful for my Lisa.
So, this post will be kind of a response to my last post. (“Kale Salads and Bubble Baths”…it’s pretty dope. Check it out.)
I said in that post that Sarah’s story wasn’t very related to my overall focus, but I’d actually like to retract that statement. While Sarah’s story in particular doesn’t directly relate to musical theatre (or Hollywood), I don’t want to discredit the fact that sexual assault DOES happen in the performing arts scene.
There’s a phrase in the Show Biz™ called “The Casting Couch.” This phrase refers to when a casting director pushes actresses, and sometimes actors, into sexual favors for better roles. Generally, this relates to old Hollywood, but this actually is something that still happens. Like, in real life, in 2019.
Harvey Weinstein is a big-time film producer who recently got in some trouble for taking advantage of his access to the women around him. The women that have come out against him have received a lot of backlash, though. Let me just take a minute to reiterate something: SHARING THEIR STORY IS HOW SOME SURVIVORS HEAL.
In my last post, I talked about how we need to recognize that healing isn’t just about self care and how, as people who suffer (because everyone suffers eventually), we should also understand that healing looks different for everyone.
Ignoring a problem doesn’t make it disappear. It actually kind of encourages it. Another fantastic way to be an ally is to educate yourself on how the people that you know can be affected through their social outlets. Seeing the people whose job or position you want to have one day in such a situation also disrupts their trust in all they knew to be good. By educating yourself, you can stand as an advocate.
It seems like every day we hear about a new Brock Turner, Harvey Weinstein, or Donald Trump. It seems like we hear about another straight, white, wealthy male getting off with a slap on the wrist after committing an act of sexual assault. According to Rainn.org, 5 out of every 1,000 rapists actually end up in prison. Sarah Super almost had a very similar experience and saw that same level of injustice, but she turned her rape into a light for others.
“I think people want survivors of sexual violence to be broken because that’s more understandable.”
Sarah Super
Sarah was raped by her ex boyfriend, Alec, in February of 2014 in her apartment. She woke up in the middle of the night with him in her apartment and was assaulted. She escaped through a door in her closet into the hallway. After receiving a call in the hospital from her perpetrator and his accidental confession while on speakerphone, the police were able to track him down and put him in jail. There was some back and forth in the legal process, the judge sentenced Alec to 12 years in prison.
Break the Silence founder, Sarah Super.
I’m not going into great detail about Sarah’s rape because she’s a person that has experienced and survived rape, but she, regardless of these things, is so much more than that. Since her attack, Sarah has started a social movement called “Break the Silence.” She has encouraged other sexual violence survivors to share their stories and heal through telling their stories, as well as coached others on how to love the people they know that have experienced sexual violence.
Stop telling survivors not to talk about their experiences. Stop telling survivors how to heal. Stop expecting survivors to sit in their rooms and cry, and stop believing the myth that self care equals healing. Instead, reassure them that there are good and trustworthy things in this world, and reaffirm them in the belief that they are deserving of love.
“There are not enough kale salads and bubble baths to heal anyone from their sexual assault.”
Sarah Super
As people who should love other people, we should break that silence that continues to allow this rape culture to grow. There is no more time to wait for someone else to stand up and share their story in hopes that you’ll gain that courage. Sexual assault is so much more common than you think; I believe in a culture of survivors supporting survivors and allies supporting allies.
At a Break the Silence event, after a survivor shares their story, everyone in the crowd says, “You are strong, you are courageous, you are inspiring.” This topic isn’t necessarily pertaining to my main focus project, but I heard this podcast and decided that this was something that needed to be talked about regardless of how much it related to musical theatre.
If you have experienced sexual violence and would like to seek help, call the hotline at 1(800) 656-HOPE(4673).
One of my favorite parts about falling in love with a new show is to see it come up on the next season at the Fox. I had seen clips on Instagram and YouTube for hours and hours, exploring the voices, minds, and hands behind Waitress the Musical, but everything that I had seen on the internet was surmountable compared to what I saw onstage.
I have heard and seen a lot of fantastic performers, but I really don’t believe that I’ve encountered a star quite like Christine Dwyer. She carries herself with grace and poise, but not in the pretentious way; she can belt the paint off the walls and make you cry puddles all in one breath. It was almost like this role was created just for her.
(Christine Dwyer and Molly McRae)
This show was a book written by Jessie Nelson, and the music for this show was written by superstar Sara Bareilles. The story is about a waitress, Jenna Hunterson, in a small town whose greatest wish is to leave her abusive husband behind. She finds out that she’s pregnant with his baby and plans to join a pie contest to raise enough money to leave. Jenna soon meets Dr. Pomatter and falls in love with him. The rest keeps you entertained.
Dwyer singing “What’s Inside” in the National Tour of Waitress
The role of Jenna is such an emotionally demanding role. Through the actresses, you experience deep pain and true loss, as well as intense love and genuine hope. It has now been played by Jessie Mueller (original), Betsy Wolfe, Katharine McPhee, Nicolette Robinson, and Shoshana Bean on Broadway, and on the National Tour, Desi Oakley and Christine Dwyer.
To have seen this show with my own eyes and experience meeting someone that plays my dream role so effortlessly is truly a moment in my timeline that is deeply significant to me.
Disclaimer: This post is completely unrelated to the focus of this blog.
For a twenty-something year-old woman living in New York, her voice was her biggest platform. From talking to her mom to just telling the taxi-driver where to go, she was inherently dependent on her voice.
One morning in July of 2013, while running some errands, Leena Sanzgiri collapses and wakes up in a hospital room. The doctors begin asking her questions, but she only responds with a faint grunt. Leena discovers she had lost the ability to speak.
Her boyfriend snaps out of the picture, and all of her close friends disappear. She quickly begins speech therapy to begin trying to regain her abilities and connections. Her therapists asks her to take recordings of her practicing at home so that she can hear the progress down the road. The first recording listeners hear is Leena attempting to say “July.” You hear her grunting and very quickly becoming frustrated. This may have been the most difficult part to listen to. Leena decides to keep these recordings a secret.
As a young girl, Leena’s father would perform puja and put an orange pigment on her forehead and go to work. Later as an adult, this prayer would come to mean much more to her; she had begun to practice this prayer to regain her speech, and it was actually beginning to work.
Leena travels down to New Orleans as her therapy is still progressing to play these hidden recordings for her parents. You hear another recording of her slurred words and frustrations while her parents listen in empathetic anguish. They ask why she chose the recite that particular prayer, and she didn’t really have an answer. She had actually come to resent what the prayer meant as they were to Ganesh, the god of removing obstacles.
The last recording listeners hear is Leena reciting the prayer in near perfection, stopping in the middle of words to say “I’m actually doing it!” and “That feels so freaking good!”
One of the more powerful points in this podcast is the ability to hear the progression from something that wasn’t in anyway discernible as the word “July” to being able to recite prayers in another language. While this particular podcast specifically relates to the prayer, I believe it also speaks to the importance of journaling and recording your days and progress. Leena was able to show her parents and herself her work, proving that she was defying boundaries and not stopping until she was exactly back to where she wanted to be.
This also kind of ties back into the prayer, in a roundabout sort of way. For a while, Leena had just kind of said the prayer to please her father and was just going through the motions. The prayer had just become words to her, but because of these recordings, the reconnection to the words were also able to be traced.
Without a Song or a Dance... 