Something Wicked This Way Comes...

“For the first time in my life, I’m finally about to do something truly wicked.”

-Elphaba

For the first time in my life, I saw something truly and joyously wicked, in all senses of the word. The musical production "Wicked" was an extraordinary experience I doubt I’ll ever forget. It was an extremely magical few hours for me; I was so enamored by the musical and it was so believable that I felt not like I was watching a play, but like I was witnessing real events unfolding in front of me to make history.

I can’t even begin to imagine the amount of effort it must have taken to create and present such a spectacular production. Sitting here and typing this, I can still remember the certain emotions evoked in me. Being brought up the way I was, I learned from an early age how not to show emotions that you didn’t want seen and analyzed. This musical pushed even my limits as none other ever has and compelled me to, in turn: laugh, fume, or cry - softly as it may have been. There were moments that sent shivers running along my body, and there were moments where I was only able to stay frozen, holding my breath anxiously for the scene to finish.

There was a moment of clarity where I was sitting there, watching a scene, and I had a renewed epiphany of why I loved acting so much. Looking at the characters onstage, one would never be able to think of them as ever having different relationships behind the scenes. From the moment I sat till long after the play was finished, I could believe in a witch whose skin was green; in a land where munchkins really roamed; in a place ruled by a wizard; in a witch who came and went in a bubble: I believed in "Wicked". I didn’t need help with my willing suspension of disbelief – I sat, the curtains rose, and I simply believed.

The story shows a back story that one could never have imagined: the Wicked Witch of the West might actually have been innocent of all but several decisions and one decidedly wicked kiss; Glinda the Good Witch might actually have had ulterior motives behind her naïve and pretty act to get higher up in the world; the Wizard of Oz was not only a fake, but might also have fathered Elphaba, later known as the Wicked With of the West. "Wicked" showed a whole mass of contradictions to the characters portrayed in the original "Wizard of Oz". It showed us not to always believe in what our eyes show us, or what we might hear and think we see. You never should judge a person unless you’ve met them for yourself. People didn’t really know Elphaba, yet she was branded the Wicked Witch of the West because they chose to believe in the wrong leaders. "Wicked" takes what we know and twists it so we question our knowledge of right or wrong. Because, really, things aren’t always black and white – there are shade of gray, as well.

PSA - Child Trafficking and Rape

A PSA, short for Public Service Announcement, is a powerful message about an issue that makes an impact on people. As of late, I’ve been surrounded by many PSAs because I’m involved with creating two. One of them is for my comprehensive drama course: it’s about rape and the aftermath. For this class, we are not fully creating a PSA, just using the components of one for our presentation. In my specialty acting course, our group of four is creating a PSA about child trafficking.

Studying these issues - seeing what they do to people, how they ruin lives - is no easy feat. Rape seems so distant for many; people who aren’t affected by it aren’t often very conscious of it. However, for the ones touched and deeply affected by rape, it’s never far from their thoughts: it rules their actions and reactions; feeds their fear and distrust; causes anguish and trauma, be it mental or physical. We, the unaffected, walk without having the fear of those who walk right by us, we talk freely to strangers without second thoughts, we enjoy what we have without a thought for those who cannot. We may know the meaning of rape, but many of us don’t have any first-hand experience of it, and so it remains trivial to our lives filled with easy laughter and joy.

Child trafficking is similar in many ways. People want to ignore the bad things that happen in the world; they want to turn their back on them. I recently had an intriguing conversation with someone about child trafficking. When I mentioned what I was doing for my PSA, I had to explain it to him and once he full understood, we discussed the why. Why do people do this? Why do people participate? Why do people stand by and let it happen? He thought it was for money. However, the gears in my head were rotating in a different direction, and I began to wonder about those who already had enough money, yet still had a part in such horrible things. Are some people really just that horrible and sick that they’d traffic a child for their personal amusement? Because they had nothing better to do? Or maybe they were being forced. But it makes me wonder what human being, with a millionth of a drop of compassion, would take part in this atrocity, even if rebelling meant losing their own life. I would never be able to live knowing I’d sent innocents into the hands of monsters.

I wonder why so many of us, with all our sympathy and passion, lie here in wait for others to help. Is it just that people refuse to acknowledge the sickening doings of others? Do things like this even evoke the same response of disbelief and disgust in everyone? Or do some just think of it dispassionately? Because after all, if it isn’t affecting them, it’s not important. Maybe some just deny the knowledge of what’s happening around them because they don’t want to believe it - they can’t handle it or they don’t want it to ruin the perfect image they have of the world; or maybe it’s because they don’t want to be targeted for trying to help. Are so many people really that weak? If we all stand together and strong, we can defeat this. It may take time and it may take a lot of effort, but in the end there shouldn’t be a single child crying out unheard in the middle of the night, for his or her mother. The world was once a safe place. All I ask is that it should be again.

Harlequin

Harlequin. One simple word, yet it brings about so much confusion. On the Friday before Halloween, we had our very own dress-up day at school. I’d had this dream of being Harlequin in my head for about a year, and finally, it became my reality. Of course, the end product didn’t quite match the image in my head, but overall it was creative and extremely fun to put together.

I wanted to be Harlequin because it related to me for I am a performer, and also since the grace of the character appealed to me. On Friday, I had the two colors red and black mixed and matched all through my outfit, and for my final piece de resistance, I wore a beautiful masquerade mask. Being an actor, I decided to go all the way, and in each class, to actually be Harlequin – or at least the female version of him. Once classes began, I tried to speak as little as possible except when necessary.

It was interesting to see others’ reactions to my character, and also judge how I played it. I don’t think many people try to look deeper than the surface: I am wearing a costume similar to a clown, so I must be one. I’m not speaking, so I must be a mime. I’m over-exaggerating all of my actions and adding a flourish to them, so I must be over-dramatic. Although the last is at times true, people tend place stereotypical labels on everything. But, why? Is it just because they’re uncomfortable with the mystery or lack of knowledge? Or is it simply an obsessive need to classify everything so you can pretend to understand it? The questions remain a mystery.

Another thing is, as an actor I’m taught to look deeper than the surface, because that’s where I find the roots of the emotions and thoughts; that’s where I find the true character. So many people fail to do that. I was quite disappointed to realize that the majority of people breeze through life without observing and trying to understand. They take the façade you grant them - the fake performance you present - and believe in it without a single doubt about it. In the end, it’s usually the character they see and not the real person.