Shelter Show
Dec. 19th, 2007 11:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chuckroSo, the Attic Ensemble theater company, which Jethrien and I did the murder mystery with and who we've done a bunch of tech work for, has an annual tradition of doing a short children's show and Christmas caroling for several homeless shelters in the Jersey City area. I performed in the show this year ("Christmas Magic", about a wizard who learns about a magic far more powerful than his, centering entirely on holiday cheer and making no religious references), and Jethrien managed to escape work early enough to join us for caroling one of the nights.
An odd disconnect occurs as an actor in a "charity" show like this. On one hand, as a person, you want to feel incredible empathy and sorrow for the kids and the mothers who are in a homeless shelter less than half a mile from my home, where I have comfort and security. (And, for that matter, from a row of i-banks and luxury housing, where overindulgence and opulence are king.) On the other, as an actor and an entertainer, you cannot, for even a moment, have these feelings. If you feel pity for your audience, that comes through your performance, and either you simply fail to make them happy, or they outright start to resent you. So you spend the performance in a weird disconnect where you must convince yourself that this is just another audience of parents and kids, but must shut out the part of you that knows why you're there.
That said, coming out of that, I have no idea how I feel following the show. One of the other actors commented as we were leaving that this was a mitzvah; and I suppose that's true, in that we brought some bright spirits and an evening of entertainment to people who are experiencing hard times. But on the other hand, I feel like I've put a band-aid on a festering wound. It feels like, "Look at me, I've done my part for these poor people, now I can go home and sleep well and celebrate what I have."
It makes me wish I could give some kind of job-skills course, or knew someone at a temp agency. Do something that would really help the problem, you know?
It also humbles you a bit. Being insulated among the well-off fiscal-conservative types can make you forget that the poor are people; that the poor are often children whose mothers are children themselves. As Dickens put it, "Oh, God, to hear the insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his brothers in the dust."
The other train of thought, that I commented to Jethrien about, is that being an adult male interacting with other people's children in our society makes me, at best, ill-at-ease. Even the appearance of impropriety can ruin your life forever, and I'm in the number-one most "suspicious" demographic when it comes to child abuse: young-to-middle-aged adult men. Presumably it'll be different with my own kids; perhaps also with the kids of my friends or of people who I trust and who I know trust me.
Perhaps part of my obviously-ticking biological clock is the desire for a child I can hug without constant fear of overblown, unwarrented reprisal.
An odd disconnect occurs as an actor in a "charity" show like this. On one hand, as a person, you want to feel incredible empathy and sorrow for the kids and the mothers who are in a homeless shelter less than half a mile from my home, where I have comfort and security. (And, for that matter, from a row of i-banks and luxury housing, where overindulgence and opulence are king.) On the other, as an actor and an entertainer, you cannot, for even a moment, have these feelings. If you feel pity for your audience, that comes through your performance, and either you simply fail to make them happy, or they outright start to resent you. So you spend the performance in a weird disconnect where you must convince yourself that this is just another audience of parents and kids, but must shut out the part of you that knows why you're there.
That said, coming out of that, I have no idea how I feel following the show. One of the other actors commented as we were leaving that this was a mitzvah; and I suppose that's true, in that we brought some bright spirits and an evening of entertainment to people who are experiencing hard times. But on the other hand, I feel like I've put a band-aid on a festering wound. It feels like, "Look at me, I've done my part for these poor people, now I can go home and sleep well and celebrate what I have."
It makes me wish I could give some kind of job-skills course, or knew someone at a temp agency. Do something that would really help the problem, you know?
It also humbles you a bit. Being insulated among the well-off fiscal-conservative types can make you forget that the poor are people; that the poor are often children whose mothers are children themselves. As Dickens put it, "Oh, God, to hear the insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his brothers in the dust."
The other train of thought, that I commented to Jethrien about, is that being an adult male interacting with other people's children in our society makes me, at best, ill-at-ease. Even the appearance of impropriety can ruin your life forever, and I'm in the number-one most "suspicious" demographic when it comes to child abuse: young-to-middle-aged adult men. Presumably it'll be different with my own kids; perhaps also with the kids of my friends or of people who I trust and who I know trust me.
Perhaps part of my obviously-ticking biological clock is the desire for a child I can hug without constant fear of overblown, unwarrented reprisal.
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no subject
Date: 2007-12-19 08:21 pm (UTC)I agree wholeheartedly. But should you ever decide you hate yourself, read any extended thread on Slacktivist where feminism is being discussed (or abortion, or torture, or pretty much anything that isn't group-hate against Left Behind). There are several posters who claim to be [female] feminists and are often quite sane, but become Limbaughian Strawfeminists if the discussion gets heated enough.
Likewise, you should be free to reject those "masculine" ideals of burping, being a sex-fiend, or liking football if they don't suit you
Can I still be a sex-fiend? I do my best to hide it well.
I'm not doing anything with mine, so that balances out, right?
That's fair, then. I can cede to you my interest in sports in exchange, if you'd like. I'm not using that.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-19 08:23 pm (UTC)On the day that sex-related shame dies its long overdue death, you can be a sex fiend in the open. Until then, continue on as you were.
That's fair, then. I can cede to you my interest in sports in exchange, if you'd like. I'm not using that.
I'd sooner take the automatic assumption of your ability to work and not let "family" get in the way of career, plz? K thnx bye.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-19 09:22 pm (UTC)I wish I could give it to you. That would give more realistic impressions of both of us, I think.