How lucky you are
Feelings on the other side of Seuss
Originally posted on Facebook, October 23rd, 2023
Yesterday was the closing performance of Seussical. Those who know about the days leading up to opening know it was a bumpy ride…but one that ultimately served as a beautiful example of what’s possible when a group of people don’t give up on each other and keep choosing to honor their commitment.
A week before we opened, my 9-year relationship ended somewhat unexpectedly. I believe in the collective healing power of sharing the reality of being human, so I have no problem speaking openly about the end (as respectfully as possible, I hope). I think more people should talk about endings with the kind of public enthusiasm we give to beginnings and highlights. But anyway. One of the reasons for this unfortunate separation is that I’m just not ready to have children. Which isn’t to say I’ll never have children. But as of right now, I just don’t know.
But back to Seussical.
Seussical is a family-friendly show, even though it ultimately touches on some very adult (and sad) themes. “He did not want to fight. Perhaps he was right,” says the General about young Jojo who’s been lost at war after refusing to take up arms. Every night I heard these words and wept offstage (and on) thinking about the millions of children caught in the ongoing horrors of adult violence. And then of course there’s Gertrude and Horton, the one-feathered bird and the elephant who decide to co-parent the little elephant bird who appears in the show’s final moments. In our production, the elephant bird was played to perfection by the adorably sweet 8-year-old Saher. “You teach her earth and I will teach her sky,” says Gertrude to Horton as they realize they can offer this little being their own special strengths and journey into a new future together. This, too, made me cry every night.
I’ve been crying a lot lately.
This was my first time doing a family-friendly show as an adult. I hadn’t thought much about that aspect of this experience until I started emerging from my dressing room after each performance and the most wonderful thing happened. Children would approach me to say they loved my Cat in the Hat. Some were clearly theater kids with all the confidence and enthusiasm in the world, but some were quiet and shy. One little girl approached me with her mom after yesterday’s closing. It was her second time seeing our production. “Have you ever been in a show?” I asked her. She shook her tiny cloth-masked face “No.” “But now she wants to! Because of you!” her mom beamed.
Someone once told me nothing I do creatively could ever be as meaningful as having children. “Ask your mom,” she said, as I stood at her doorstep on her son’s birthday. But what she didn’t know is that I have a mother who can hold space for both the profound meaning of having a child and the profound experience of creating something bigger than yourself as an artist. A mother who has never related my worth to whether or not I bring a child into the world. I’ve written before about how grateful I am to have two parents who are artists — and theater artists, at that. Without their choice to have children, I would not be here. I think about this often. And I’m still not sure when or if I’ll ever be a mother.
As the Cat says to Jojo, “Wake up! Wake up! There’s more to be heard.” And there’s more to write on this. But for now I’ll pack for tomorrow’s trip to New York and say thank you to everyone who came to see the show — and especially everyone who brought their children. Thank you to the genuinely kind cast, crew, pit, and production team. Thank you to Joan, the 92-year-old Virgo queen who was our stage manager. Thank you to my mom who drove up from LA to help me connnect to my character’s motivations. Thank you to every person who is brave enough to become a parent. And to those of us carrying this question in our hearts…we are here, we are here, we are here, we are here.
