Twenty-Eight

To all interested parties:

I spent a lot of time considering how to write this letter. There’s a lot to unpack regarding my experience at Circle in the Square Theatre School, most of which was beyond good, it was extraordinary. Most of the “tough love” teaching the faculty showed, by bluntly expressing themselves and their opinions, was something I was well-versed in, prior to my inception at the school. And, it was something I could handle. With that, what I’m sharing here is not to evoke pity, but rather shed light on slights by the faculty that fall in line with prejudice, racism, and specifically, anti-Blackness…whether the teachers knew they were contributing to these ideas, or not.

The primary experience I’ll share occurred in a Singing Interpretation class. It is important for me to note that while this incident is, in fact, an incident, I believe the teacher was unaware of the gravity of her words; however, it still abided by an atmosphere of oppression that I think Circle needs to deal with. Also, this story ends with her heeding my call to stop. She didn’t continue once I made it clear her words violated my safety. Now, the story. Winter break had just ended, and earlier that day, she saw me, and greeted me with an enthusiastic hello. So, when in class, as I prepared to work, and she saw that I cut my hair, I was confused why she seemed upset about it…when she encountered me hours before with the same haircut. She explained she thought I was a Middle Eastern classmate of mine, of the same name. She alleged that agents present, at the Showcase we were preparing for, wouldn’t be able to tell us apart. I explained we didn’t look alike, and the class agreed with me. She then continued to explain that my hair gave me a unique look, and that she was sure it would grab the attention of agents. I responded by asserting if a casting director, agent, or acting-industry-other didn’t hire me, simply because of my hair, I didn’t want to work with them anyway. She then continued to try to express how unique my look was, that it was primarily due to my hair, and that she was disappointed in the doors my new look closed. It was at this point I told her she needed to stop. I explained my hair is a marker for my heritage, and to relegate almost all my career potential to it, even for a moment, was towing the line of racism. She didn’t fight back, and simply asked me not to cut it, and we worked on my song. This whole exchange happened in front of my class. I had to stand up, alone, and challenge a teacher. I was able to handle it. I can understand why someone else wouldn’t. In this vein, that teacher was not alone. The head of the Voice Team, and Singing Technique teacher, also discussed my hair and even asserted that cutting my hair was a mistake, and that she was certain that my previous look alone would get me in the industry. I explained to her what I explained to the Singing Interpretation teacher, and while that teacher listened, the Singing Technique teacher continued to assert it was still a mistake. If that sentence was confusing, one teacher listened, the other did not. I should note I booked an off-Broadway show within a year of graduating, with short hair, and within months, auditioned and booked the lead role in the same show, with even shorter hair. I only include that, to encourage anyone reading this, that sometimes teachers don’t know what they’re talking about, and, it’s ok to acknowledge that, and continue to believe it, even when they tell you they’re right, and you’re not.

The next few examples serve as illustration for what you’ve already read (provided you’ve read the other letters). They are little things, though still slights, that simply must change. They don’t seem like a big deal, but that’s only because most of the people at Circle wouldn’t notice, because being marginalized based on skin color is not something most faculty (currently all but one) are well versed in. Having the white first year speech teacher purposefully use the word “ax” instead of “ask,” having every instructor while I was present be white (because the current POC teacher was a TA, and taught once a week while I was there), and even being up for a position as a teacher myself, only to be passed upon by a white colleague, are all things a POC, like myself, would notice. When you don’t see people, who look like you in a space where you’re being continually vulnerable and expressive, it weighs on you. Being a POC is already vulnerable. Then to add shedding layers off a humanity most don’t credit us with anyway, only magnifies the feeling of being, for lack of a better term, alone. This shouldn’t be disputed, or met with caution, but wholeheartedly heard, and met with compassion.

I’ll end where I started: my time at Circle was exemplary, but that doesn’t justify actions taken by the faculty that align with oppressive social precepts, whether they were aware of their actions or not. I didn’t include names because my intention isn’t to shame people, but rather, call for a complete overhaul of the entire structure. While I do believe there are some instructors that should be held accountable for their actions, it is my intent here, to address the larger problem held by the institution. I should also note, the stories I’ve shared are only a snapshot into the many times I have heavy-sighed at the sheer lack of awareness to deeply held prejudices regarding race at Circle. Let this be a wakeup call that you should be aware. A quote the Scene Study teacher always liked to share: “Awareness is the greatest gift an actor can give himself.” As an acting school, all those in any authority capacity, should shoulder the weight of this phrase and work to infiltrate it into the fabric of the institution. We, all these letter writers, are a call for awareness. Answer it.

— Anonymous