West Side Story

Last week I lived in King's Beach, CA, next to Lake Tahoe, directing a project called "West Side Story Remix." The project, sponsored by an amazing organization called Arts for the Schools, consisted of a week of rehearsals for an adapted, student cast version of West Side Story, and four days of creative writing classes at Truckee High School. My heart/mind is still "processing" the impact on my life of a week of magic, tears and love.

It snowed. A lot. From a gray and green rainy Oakland landscape I was immersed in a pure white wonderland.

In a sports-oriented rural community, high school age boys were at first reluctant to join the cast (singing and dancing don't feel as masculine as snow boarding?). But when they did, they loved it.

A few days after we began rehearsals, a beloved boy at one of our project's high schools committed suicide. Students in the monologue writing workshops wrote about feeling lost, alone, and seeking. Suddenly we faced the fact that young people in our society need a different kind of support than just "stay in school." The project became much larger than putting on a wonderful performance of an iconic musical theater work. The transforming nature of the dramatic form called Tragedy began to connect us to our own real lives.

Our cast of 20 middle and high school performers were largely inexperienced. Many had never even been in a play before. As the week proceeded, I watched the miracle of our teens blossoming. Living night and day with the ancient story based on "Romeo and Juliet," thrust our bodies and spirits into the center of life's questions about Love, Loss, Hate, Betrayal, Hope, Redemption, Heroism. I believe that the audience for our one performance last Friday night was transformed as well. I believe they left the theater knowing the power of love.