you are whole
I write this as I prepare to teach my first class for Access Acting Academy, an acting training program created specifically for blind and low vision actors. Yes, you heard that right, there is a thriving actor training program with more than one blind person in class. I am beyond excited to share creative space with other blindies like myself. What an incredible opportunity for disabled artists to experience empowerment and belonging!
Yesterday, I had a prep call with AAA founder, Marilee Talkington to discuss run-of-show, access needs, and last-minute questions. If you aren’t familiar with Marilee’s work or general badassery, I encourage you to change that by clicking HERE. In our call Marilee mentioned a concern of many students in previous AAA classes, and most definitely a concern I’ve felt myself as a visually impaired actor. Many artists are coming to class wanting to be “fixed,” wanting to rid themselves of any habits or physicality or behavior that may allude to their low vision or blindness. I know this feeling well, this feeling of wanting to be “fixed,” this feeling of wanting to find “hacks” to make me appear less visually impaired. I spent my teen and early adult years fully embracing my low vision in daily life, yet trying to hide it in audition rooms and in class. And many educators encouraged me to work as hard as I could to hide my low vision…so I followed directions! I understand this concept deep in my bones. It took me until I began the work of blending my artistry and advocacy to realize my wholeness as an actor with low vision.
As I talked with Marilee, she encouraged me to remind students of their whole-ness. “Remind your students that they are whole, that they are perfect as they are. Sure, offer them options, tools, new ways of thinking and moving and using their voices. But never stop letting them know that they are whole.” What a simple, yet revolutionary concept.
Our theatre industry is on hold for a year. What if this became a year that artists everywhere began embracing their whole selves, bringing their full selves to the work. It is past time to break out of the molds this industry tries to squeeze us into. It is time we ditch the idea of trying to “pass,” trying to look _____ enough, trying to hide in someone else’s ideal of theatrical perfection.
To my disabled friends, let you eyes cross, wear your glitter prosthetic with pride, unashamedly ask for accommodations. You are whole, and it is time that this world sees ALL of you.
