Maggie the Cat, Regina the Pusher…

Two totally unrelated stories, but stories I want to tell, so here goes!

I got to my acting class last week.  On the administrators’ advice, I ended up auditing so I could make sure the class was a good fit, so I observed class instead of participating. There were 6 other students in all, and all brought monologues as was required.

There was a young Japanese women there…from our conversation with the teacher before the monologues began, it seemed she had a decent understanding of English, though her accent was quite heavy.  When she got up to work, she announced that she was doing the Maggie monologue from Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.  Yikes, I thought, and  I found myself cringing.  Well, you know what?  She got up there, she set up her space, and she boldly and bravely got it done.  Did she bite off more than she could chew?  Yes.  She’s a beginning actor, and with her accent, some of the monologue wasn’t understandable.  But what needed no translation was her courage and her willingness to get up there and just be who she was and where she was with open eyes, and an open heart.  To challenge herself by putting herself in a vulnerable position while everyone watched.  That’s something.  And that’s what I’ll be going for when it’s my turn tomorrow.

On to Regina the pusher.  I worked a job yesterday…a group project that I couldn’t leave until all 16 of us completed the task.  I had plans afterward to meet my husband and some friends for dinner and I was really looking forward to it.  We should have completed the project by 6 pm, but because some of the people working needed their hands held and were not self starters, we didn’t get out of there until 7:45.  It was frustrating…I really wanted that time with my husband and our friends–I worked through my husbands days off last week, (he ended up working as well himself, unfortunately), and just needed the opportunity to hang with them, you know?  Being thwarted did not feel good.

I was getting off the train at 42nd Street, and when the doors opened, the group waiting had that mob mentality going and tried to get on the train before we could get off.  As I was attempting to exit, an older Asian man shouldered me in his hurry to get on the train.  That was it!  I yelled, “Hey!” and pushed him square in the chest!  He stumbled back a few feet, then avoided my gaze as he got on the train.

That happened.

I was so angry–I retaliated right on the spot.

I’ve never actually put my hands on someone as an adult  (I was briefly in a girl gang when I was in junior high school, but that’s another story) and I surprised myself yesterday.  And I have to admit that I didn’t feel bad about it.




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