The Ability or Inability of the Arts to Affect Social Change

"The Laramie Project" was written by The Tectonic Theatre Company in response to the murder of Matthew Sheppard, a young gay man, in Laramie Wy. What is unique about the play is that all of the dialouge is culled from multiple interviews that the actors conducted with the residents of Laramie. It is a documentary brought to the stage.

An Introduction

It is hard for actors to find roles where they feel that they actually have an effect on their audience. Many times we find ourselves singing about girls named Maria or fields of waving wheat or beauty school dropouts. We dance in the middle of dramatic scenes or break into song while engaging in combat. We throw out quips about ex-wives and old sandwiches at poker games as if they were chips, and we struggle to make an outwardly turned calve as sexually stimulating for a modern audience as it was for an 18th century French house. We get some satisfaction having made people clap or laugh or cry or sing along, and that in itself can be rewarding enough. But it is a rare thing indeed when we get to immerse ourselves in a production that can truly affect people, to the degree that we change their point of view on a subject. Theatre (and many of the arts) is subjective but also fleeting; non-permanent in the sense that a live performance of any play can never truly be duplicated. As a friend of mine is fond of saying, if you weren't there then you didn't see it.
When we find ourselves in a production that has the reputation that The Laramie Project enjoys, then we tend to strive for personal heights within the context of the script. We feel that we owe some sort of loyalty or fealty to the production that is above and beyond the norm. After all, we are in a show that has the ability to affect social change...aren't we? It is possible for such a play to exist is it not? Surely theatre can bring about change in a society; after all so much of primitive society was shaped by the spoken word that it seems that there must still be a strong voice in theatre. I know that I would like to think that the arts, specifically theatre, have that power. It would be a frightening world that had become immune to its ability to look at the arts as a mirror held up to its face. The capacity to learn from our past and our mistakes is what separates us from the animals after all (that and opposable thumbs and magazine subscriptions).

First Impressions

The first time I read the play The Laramie Project I was asked to direct it by a local Theatre Company. I had heard of the play before, but had yet to read it. I had already decided that I wanted to produce it myself but had been unable to procure the rights to it. It seemed to me a perfect compromise. I would get to direct the show at someone else's expense instead of my own. I had no idea how expensive a piece it would turn out to be, however. I am not talking about expense in the monetary sense though.

The first time I read the script, I found myself weeping openly. I was completely unprepared for the sheer power of the words in front of me. I found myself crying for not only Matthew Shepard but for the residents of Laramie, the families of the killers, the police officers who worked the case, the student who found Matthew tied to the fence and even the actors who wrote the show. I found myself in tears for people I would never meet or know because they had been made as real and tangible to me as any character in any play ever had before, because they WERE real. These were people that I could look up in a phone book or on the Internet. These were not just names on a page. They were not merely dramatis personae whose names appeared at the beginning of a script. These were people who had been affected in some way by the murder of a young gay man, some of them profoundly and to a life altering degree. Some of these people were Matthews's friends and acquaintances, and some had never even met him. The tie that bound them was somewhat intangible, but it was strong enough to create a feeling of intimacy between its characters and the reader. I could not help but think that if it could capture and involve a reader that completely, then the effect on an audience must be exponentially stronger.

It was not until I had cast the show that I realized that not only were its readers and viewers in danger of being drawn into the town of Laramie and its time of trial, but that actors and directors were in a similarly perilous position. The emotional toll that would need to be paid was a heavy one. That's where the true expense would be accrued.

Before the end of the experience, my actors would each have a moment (some several) where the show would prove to have a great impact on them. Rehearsals would not only become a chance to perfect and hone characterization and lines, but also an exercise in emotional combat. No actor wants to appear incapable of showing emotion on stage, but no actor wants (hmmmm...let me rephrase that.... SHOULD want) to be incapable of controlling his or her emotions onstage either. This was a piece that not only encouraged but demanded that the actor maintain control but only in the barest sense of the word. At times an actor would need to be so close to loss of emotional restraint as to truly need to fight to maintain it. There could be no forced emotion or false sentiment on the stage, the play would not allow it. The script and the subject matter itself would not allow for any one dimensional attempts at portrayal. Every actor (and director) has a repertoire of techniques (called a "bag of tricks" in many circles outside of Theatre) that they pull from when presenting material on stage. I got the sense fairly quickly that my usual tricks would not be applicable with Laramie.

"The Gay Play"

One of the first things I would have to do was get over my awe towards the play itself. It is too easy to fall in love with material that moves you. If you walk around starry eyed about the play you are directing, then you tend to overlook things. Passion is important, and I certainly did not want to lose any passion I had for the play, I just wanted to make sure I was not waiting up at night wondering where the play was, who it was being read by, why it was not calling. In short, I wanted to have passion for the piece but not stalk it. I began re-reading it, this time looking for any flaws that might exist in the form or text. I was convinced that Laramie was a documentary piece of theatre as strong as any documentary film. Like any documentary there are things that are brought to the forefront and things that are not. I began wondering what was left out versus what was included. It was possible that the play was bordering on propaganda, a common enough condition for documentary material. The basis for the play itself (a gay hate crime) would seem to suggest that it was merely "gay" themed.

I deduced rather quickly that some of its' authors were gay, and certainly there were gay characters aplenty. In fact, many of my peers in the local theatre community were already talking about it as a gay play. I had not even had auditions yet, and would not for several months, but I was finding myself engaged in many late night (and a few early morning) bar conversations with thespians intent on being a part of the show. Gay and straight alike, many of these people were forming their own opinion of the show based on hearsay instead of their own research or experience with the script. I had a good bit of unsolicited advice sent my way.

A most amusing thing began happening. A number of my straight friends became uneasy with the gay element of the show while a number of my gay friends became uneasy about a lack of a gay element in the show (and in me). How could I possibly understand what Matthew suffered if I were not gay? In fact, how could any straight man direct a show like this? Did it not belong to the homosexual community? Was Matthew not their Icon, their Martyr? I was even made privy to the knowledge that certain peers of mine in the gay community were boycotting the auditions because they thought I was too homophobic to be trusted with the material, a statement that I found as confusing as I did hurtful.

I was not above questioning whether or not a straight man possessed the insight necessary to mount this production in the face of such concerns, so I re-read the script with that in mind. I discovered that by focusing on a gay theme people were missing so much of what the play offered. This was not a "gay" play, no matter what heterosexuals or homosexuals labeled it. The play was about more than sexual orientation. It was a significant element of the text, but it was not the only element or even a primary one. Matthew Shepard, though never a character in the show, is not a centerpiece of the script but a participant in a story that involves an entire town, if not an entire society. His death is without a doubt the raison d'etre for the show's existence, but it is not a play about his "gayness." In the same vein, the pain and suffering that the murder of Matthew created was not limited to Laramie's gay population.

Tectonic Theatre Company member Stephen Belber tells us of his reaction to being asked to go to Laramie to conduct interviews, stating he has "no interest in prying into a town's unraveling." It is truly Laramie that is under the microscope here, and by extension, our society in general.

The Script as Social Commentary

It was clear to me that this script was powerful, that it had a palpable effect on me and on others who read it. How valuable was it as a tool for social change? Did it possess enough strength to be more than good drama? I felt that this script was inherently capable of affecting social change, due to the fact that it did contain elements in its structure that appealed to a wide range of people with a diverse number of backgrounds. If it were going to be successful as a tool for change, The Laramie Project would have to contain enough commonly shared archetypes and symbols to move audience members who were not sympathetic to the root of the story itself, no small task.

I remember being taught in a sociology class that every society contains, in some form or another, the following institutions: family, education, government, religion and economy. The framers of the play manage to explore all five of those institutions in their script. Certainly one of the strongest elements of the show is its examination of how the crime affected families outside of the Shepard's. We see only one moment with Matthew's father, Dennis. It is a portion of the statement he made to the court during the trial of Aaron McKinney. The statement is full of emotion, ranging from subtle to gut wrenching. Matthew's family is mentioned in other moments, but that is the only glimpse we get of them.

We are introduced to other families, however. Reggie Fluty was the police officer that responded to the call when a mountain biker found Matthew the day after his beating, still alive and tied to a fence. Reggie tells us that she is in danger of being infected by the HIV virus (Matthew was positive) because of the "overwhelming amount of blood" covering Matthew and the fact that she had open cuts on her hands and no gloves to use while treating Matthew before the ambulance arrived. Matthew's HIV is mentioned in another moment that deals with family when Sherry Johnson bemoans the lack of attention that was paid to a Wyoming State trooper who was killed by an elderly driver around the same time Matthew was killed. Here was a man with children and a young wife, a man that worked with her husband being ignored for the sake of a "barfly" who was "spreading AIDS." Interestingly, the show does not mention the fact that Matthew began getting tested for HIV the previous year after being gang raped while on vacation in Morocco (I found myself amazed at how much this boy went through in so short a time.) and had always tested negative . One of the unfolding plots (I hesitate to call any of them "sub" plots) is the relationship between Reggie and her mother, Marge Murray. We discover that several months, in fact just over a year, went by before Reggie could be told for certain as to whether or not she was infected. The exchange between Marge and her daughter is poignant and suspenseful. We see the way they are used to dealing with one another (Marge's views on her daughter being a police officer, her stubbornness and her ability to handle herself) being strained by the circumstances they find themselves in. In a few short lines the relationship is established so wonderfully that we get an almost immediate sense of their family life. Marge, being the prairie stock that she is, bemoans the effects on Reggie and her own daughters before she will ever admit her own anxieties, preferring to act tough in Reggie's presence and then telling us as an aside when Reggie exits, " I just hope she doesn't go before me, I just couldn't handle that." Marge is so angered at her daughter being put in the situation that she is in that she talks of wanting to lash out, not at Matthew but at McKinney and Henderson, who have " caused so much grief for so many people."

One person caught up in this grief is Lucy Thompson, the grandmother of Russell Henderson and the woman who raised him. We see her attempt to sway the court towards a more lenient sentence for her grandson during one moment. Her plea begins with a heartfelt apology to the Shepard family, telling them that, "...our hearts ache for the pain and suffering that that the Shepards have went through. We have prayed for your family since the beginning." We witness her own pain and suffering as she pleads for the judge to, " not take Russell out of our lives forever." Russell Henderson must listen as his grandmother makes this statement, and even if he has no remorse for his crime, he cannot escape the remorse he must feel for what he has done to his own family, a family that still struggles to accept his actions but loves him nonetheless.

A chillingly ironic event would occur about a year after Henderson was imprisoned. According to Beth Loffreda in her book Losing Matthew Sheppard, on January 3rd, 1999, (less than 3 months after Matthew's murder) Lucy Thompson's daughter Cindy Dixon (Russell's mother) was found dead on the outskirts of Laramie. She had a history of drug use and prostitution, hence Russell's being raised by his grandmother. At first it was assumed that no foul play was involved but after careful investigation by Detective Rob Debree, the same detective who worked so vigilantly on the Shepard case, it was discovered that she had been killed after being raped. The following summer a man named Dennis Menefee Jr. was charged for the crime while being held on a burglary charge. He confessed to first-degree felony murder and was sentenced to life in Rawlins State Penitentiary, the same prison that Russell Henderson was serving his life sentences in.

We also witness the relationship between Romaine Patterson, one of Matthew's closest friends and eventual champion in the arena of social activism, and her sister Trish Steger. It is Steger who must tell Romaine that, "yes, it was Matthew, it was your friend," when Romaine calls and asks her if it's the same Matthew she was hearing about on the news. Though not close to Matthew herself, Steger is very demonstrative of her concern for her sister, who is an "out" lesbian. One other recurring familial relationship is that of Jedadiah Schultz and his parents. Schultz recalls his experience auditioning for a drama scholarship at the University of Wyoming, Laramie. He chooses as his piece a scene from Angels In America. His parents refuse to attend his audition because they feel homosexuality is a sin. They, "...come to everything, every ball game, every hockey game-everything I've ever done." They are willing to miss what Schultz refers to as the most important day of his life, however, because he is playing a gay character on a stage. The struggle between him and his parents (who are never seen, only referred to,) is a source of great consternation to Schultz.

Marge Murray tells us that Laramie has a class distinction between " the well-educated and the ones that are not and the educated don't understand why the ones that are not don't get educated." We meet University of Wyoming President Philip Dubois who would not even think about moving back east. Theatre department head Rebecca Hilliker warns us that we might not like her students' opinions on things because they can be, "rather redneck" but at least they have opinions, unlike her students in the Mid-west had. She speaks of a, "dynamic in education," that she finds there, one that she's very protective of.

Catherine Connolly, another University professor, shares her experience as the first openly gay faculty member. In one of the shows lighter, and more insightful, moments she shares the "coming out" experience she underwent during her job interview for the school when she was asked what her husband did. In all three of these characters, we sense a distinction from the life long Laramie residents that mirrors the statement made by Marge Murray. Sgt. Hing of the police department, a 3rd generation resident of Laramie, tells us there are residents and then there is the university population, drawing some sort of line between the two. I found it very interesting that all the faculty we meet begin their tales by informing us that they moved to Laramie from somewhere else, as if trying to avoid being labeled along with the rest of the town.

The Fireside, where Matthew was last seen leaving with Henderson and McKinney, is a college bar, and the town of Laramie is exuberantly hosting the University of Wyoming homecoming parade the week after the crime. There is a definite presence in the town that stems from the University. There is also a tacit understanding that the men who murdered Matthew were not a part of that community of higher learning. This is not a case of painting the bad guys as stupid or unlearned; this is just a statement of fact. However, it still borders on stereotyping. If it were a work of fiction instead of documentation then it would be bordering on propaganda.

Rebecca Hilliker decides there must be a way for the University to reach out and touch her community and address its' hatred of homosexuals. Her solution is to produce Angels In America in hopes that it will help educate people with the idea that gays are no different from straight people when it comes down to the basic elements of a human being. This viewpoint is not that dissimilar to the idea that black people and white people are no different, a lesson that our country had to learn at a seemingly slow pace. That viewpoint was also hazy where religion, creed and gender were concerned for many years, and for some still is.
The institution of Government is fairly well represented in the text, both through the depiction of courtroom scenes from the trials of the two men who killed Matthew and the discussion of Hate Crime legislation. A moment including Wyoming Governor Jim Gerringer is indicative of the political climate surrounding Matthew's killing. Gerringer tells us that he is "sickened and outraged," by this crime, but immediately cautions his citizens not to rush to conclusions about the nature of the crime. There is no need to assume that this was a Hate Crime, and it would be reactionary to start calling for any type of legislation that would give "one group special rights over others." An amazing thing about the body politic in our society is that it purports to be a government of the people, by the people, for the people while at the same time it is hesitant to enact legislation that may be unpopular with segments of the people, legislation that is at times mandated by the people and is necessary for the protection of the people.

One focus of the script is the debate over Hate Crime bills and whether they are appropriate or even needed. Historically, such legislation occurs when there is an event that illustrates the need for it. This means that some sort of negative, at times deadly, event must occur before the government will propose a law to address similar events. It is widely acknowledged that the murder of Matthew Shepard forced the issue of Hate Crimes into the public eye, and, in turn, forced the issue to come to the attention of local, state and national government officials.

No law can be enforced by a government without the presence of police officers. Nor can a government's laws be interpreted without judges. The judges and police officers in Laramie are not bound by any sort of Hate Crime legislation; they are merely upholding existing laws. There is an understanding among them that hate was indeed a motivating factor, and they do respond to that hatred, in some cases most valiantly. Detective Rob Debree in particular is an example of that response. He tells us that he had no idea of the fears that the gay community in Laramie possessed. After talking with members of that community and finding out what those fears were, Debree experienced a fierce devotion to making sure that the case against Henderson and McKinney was airtight to the degree that they had no hope of escaping justice. "This is America, you don't have the right to feel that fear." Debree even admits that he used to be one of those people who "held onto those old ideals, and fourteen months ago I was probably one of them," but now he feels differently, to the point that he is willing to lose some friendships over the issue. The door swings both ways he tells us, and he is not afraid to tell people that he will not put up with negative comments or actions. "At least now I can sleep at night." Debree would later go on to travel with Judy Shepard as champions of the Hate Crime legislation movement.
There is within the play a debate over the death penalty and its ramifications. Different characters reveal their thoughts about it, and we see Dennis Shepard, in his one moment with us, address the death penalty to a courtroom full of people including one of his son's killers. Shepard heartbreakingly grants life to McKinney, saying it is time to begin the healing process. It is a powerful moment in a play full of powerful moments and it is a testimony to the kind of man Shepard must be. I do not know any person who saw or read or performed the play that has not said they could not be as merciful as Shepard was, myself included.

There are religious overtones throughout The Laramie Project. We meet Zubaida Ula, a young woman who considers herself an Islamic Feminist. Her description of life in Laramie after she began wearing a veil is both revealing and entertaining. She tells us of having to explain her religion often, sometimes while standing in line at the supermarket with her "pop and chips" in her hand. When Jedediah Schultz gets a leading role in Angels In America, his parents so strongly believe that homosexuality is a sin that they will not even watch him perform on stage. Aaron Kreifels, the young man who found Matthew tied to the fence, wrestles with the teachings of his religious beliefs and why God would choose him to be the one to find Matthew.

We are also introduced to Doug Laws, the state Ecclesiastical Leader for the Mormon Church, who illustrates for us the fact there are certain boundaries that God has set for us, and it is our job to learn what these boundaries are. Homosexuality is one of those things that are "out of bounds" and no matter what arguments we may have against it there is no room for leniency or discussion over the matter. I could not help but find the recurring presence of Father Roger, a catholic priest, most comforting. We are introduced to what would appear to be the antithesis of our idea of a Catholic Priest. He does not condemn Matthew or the "lifestyle" that so many others mention. He hosted the first vigil for Matthew, without even bothering to get permission from his bishop. We hear Father Roger, in one of my favorite moments entitled "Two Queers and a Catholic Priest," admonish two tectonic members to do their best to "say it correct, you know what is right, do your best to say it correct." Father Roger bemoans the fact that, as much as we can learn from Mckinney and Henderson, not many of us would let them teach us. He cautions that words like "fag" and "lez" are the seeds of the type of violence that befell Matthew. Father Roger also expresses his disbelief in the fact that other clergy in Laramie declined the opportunity to take part in the vigil for Matthew, saying that he was "...jolted, I thought, what's going on here, we are supposed to be leaders." Stephen Mead Johnson is the Unitarian minister in Laramie, and he too expresses his concern over how other ministers reacted to the crime. Johnson gives us a quick lesson in the sociology of religion in the West, explaining that it is predominantly Baptist and Mormon and that "they are like jam on toast down here." He is the first to admit that many Unitarians are not even sure if they are a religion or not, yet he speaks of Matthew with such compassion and soul searching that it is hard to imagine that he is not looking to God for some answers. Johnson is a direct contrast to the Baptist Preacher (each character in the play has a name except for those who asked to remain anonymous) who speaks vehemently against Matthew's lifestyle, saying that "the word is either sufficient or it is not." The Minster and his wife (who also asked that her name not be used) each have an interaction with company member Amanda Gronich that leaves her stunned and almost speechless. The Reverend can speak of the boys who committed this crime deserving the death penalty and their need for his spiritual guidance in the same breath, then telling Gronich that although he knows Matt's lifestyle (again that word) is legal, he certainly hoped that Matt thought about the consequences of his lifestyle before he slipped into his coma. If the minister is meant to balance out the presence of softer religious characters though, then he is little more than an indication of things to come.

The Rev. Fred Phelps is brought into the action in the top of Act III. Phelps is a preacher from Kansas who traveled (along with members of his congregation) to Matthew's funereal. They stood outside the church, and later outside the cemetery, as Matthew's family tried to pay their last respects to him. Phelps and his crew held signs that read "Matthew Shepard in Hell," "God Hates Fags" and "Fags Burn In Hell," as the Shepard family mourned. Preaching about "...God's Hate," Phelps rants to all gathered that he carries a message that they had better listen to. The fact that this man traveled so far to do this at a funereal of a young man he never even met to preach Hate in the name of God is despicable enough, but if you care to see even more displays of Phelps and his congregations' hatred feel free to go to the following website www.godhatesfags.com. There you will find, among other things, a picture of Matthew Shepard surrounded by flames with the sounds of screams in the background and a counter telling you the number of days Matt has been in Hell.

Phelps returned to Laramie to protest at the trial of Russell Henderson. This time he met with a counter protest. Romaine Patterson, Matthew's friend, and an openly gay young woman, organized a group of people to don angel wings (in her words, "big ass" wings) and encircle Phelps and his followers. Calling themselves Angel Action, they blocked Phelps' view of the people gathered around him, enraging the Reverend to no end. In one of the play's strongest moments we get to witness the confrontation between Phelps and Patterson.

In Loffreda's book she writes of Phelps' visit also, and in a wonderful post-script describes how when Phelps left to go back to his own stomping grounds members of Angel Action quietly assumed the space he had been in and began washing the pavement where he stood with sponges and soapy water, on their knees in poses that I imagine were reminiscent of Jesus when he washed the feet of the lepers. Many audience members have told me they could not believe Phelps was a real person, and it has been the consensus of my casts on both occasions when I have directed the show that it is astounding that the man is still alive. Even conservative right wing Christians shudder at Phelps' antics. I honestly have never seen such a vivid personification of Hate and would consider focusing a paper on him and his church.

There are economic factors at play here as well. We are told that Laramie would be "s.o.l." If it were not for the university bringing jobs to its residents, as most other jobs are minimum wage. There is mention of Matthew having come from money and not needing to fight to keep his wallet because losing money would not have bothered him. Henderson and McKinney came from "the poor side of town," one reporter tells us. Two of their friends, Shannon and Jen, tell us that the two had previously robbed people in order to get enough money to drink with or get a fix. Some characters dislike Matthew not only because of his sexuality but also for what they perceive to be his affluent background. If there is a middle class in Laramie, then it would appear that it is much smaller than one would expect in a town of less than thirty thousand. Most of the residents have blue-collar jobs and blue-collar values. They prefer to think of themselves as a "live and let live" kind of town (it's an oft repeated phrase) and speak of themselves in simple terms.

The town's economic history is summed up for us rather succinctly. Once a railroad town, Laramie enjoyed a period of economic prosperity until the railroads moved over to Cheyenne and left the town without an industry. Stewardship and the land itself became the primary sources of income, whether from farming or ranching, and there is a sense of great love for the land when you hear people speak of it. Indeed, as much as the town of Laramie is itself a character in the play, the land on which it sits is a defining characteristic.

Putting a Face on the Issue

We have family, education, government, religion and economy, each represented in the text. Even if we, as audience members, are not cognizant of every example (and there are more) we do recognize them to some degree. Perhaps it is that underlying presence of social archetypes that allows the audience to identify with the play, even if they have no frame of reference regarding homosexuality or hate crimes. I have been told by people who have seen the play that they did not wish to attend a performance; they only went because their significant other or friends were going and asked them to accompany them. They were not interested in the play or its message (whatever the preconception) but found themselves drawn in by the fact that there is so much material in the script that touched on some part of their belief system or experiences. None of these people would consider themselves violently anti-gay but nor were they necessarily pro-gay. Many, I'm sure, would consider themselves "live and let live" people, like many Laramie residents referred to themselves. All of those who spoke to me after viewing the show admitted that it did affect them to some measurable degree, even if they could not put into words to what degree. Presumably, the script must contain some element or elements that allow for an affect to occur. I think one reason people who are not predisposed to a sympathetic reaction are drawn in by the fact that names and faces are placed on an issue. It is easier for us as humans to disassociate ourselves from tragedies when we are not familiar with the images associated with them. In the mid-1980's Live Aid was a tremendous social event that drew awareness towards the plight of Ethiopians who were suffering greatly because of famine and war. We had been exposed to reports of that area's destitution, but it was not until faces and bodies were shown on our televisions that we became motivated to bring about some change. The events of September 11, 2001 were horrifying enough, but when coupled with actual footage and first hand accounts the tragedy became more personal for us. While the loss of thousands of lives was devastating, it was when we began hearing individuals' names and hearing about aspects of their lives as well as their deaths that the pain became more recognizable. I still can't look at images of the fireman carrying the body of an infant out of the rubble that was once a federal building in Oklahoma the day it was bombed. Before that image was shown I was impacted by the horror of the event but not to the degree that I would become after viewing it. Families all over this country were stunned during the Viet Nam war when images of dead American soldiers were beamed across the airways. War had been a devastating occurrence throughout history, but now for the first time, the faces of our boys were shown to us as they died, putting those faces into our collective vision and therefore our collective conscious. The whole world had heard of Nazi atrocities enacted towards the Jews, even if only a hint of what was being done in the concentration camps made it through to the outside world. The moral outrage that would be felt around the world would not come to a head until images and first-hand accounts would be made public. AIDS was just a "fag" disease that occasionally hit IV drug users until a young boy named Ryan White became infected due to a blood transfusion. His angelic features and all-American boy- next -door appearance (eerily similar to Matt Shepards own features) helped to change many people's attitudes towards the AIDS epidemic. The Laramie Project puts both a name and a face on the issue of hate crimes.

A handful of characters in the script say that the gay population was using Matthew as a poster boy for their agenda. While this is probably true, one has to wonder what that agenda might include. As I am writing this, I see television news reports about gay marriages and a move to add a constitutional amendment barring them. I am aghast at a recent story about a county in Tennessee whose commissioners have voted to outlaw homosexuality within their county limits, thus making it illegal for gays to own property. My local school system is under fire for a book entitled The King and King being in an elementary school library. Rosie O' Donnell has married her long time girlfriend as a sign of solidarity to the many gay couples who are not rich and famous and want to get married.
Going back in time to 1998, when Matthew was the focus of a large vigil that attracted entertainers we saw a recently "out" Ellen Degeneres on stage, eulogizing Matthew and saying that his death was the type of crime she was trying to wipe-out with her sit-com. Because of the circumstances of Matthew's death, many people began calling it a "gay crucifixion," a misnomer in the sense that the common belief was that he had been tied in the classic "Jesus on the Cross" form. The word "martyr" was attached to Matthew, a word that carries with it a great deal of weight. While Matthew was alone, tied to a fence, struggling to stay alive, I doubt that any of these issues would have been of a concern to him. I do not think that he would have chosen to become a symbol for anyone or anything, nor do I believe that if he had been offered the chance to become a world recognized name or remain anonymous he would have chosen anything other than anonymity.

The play does a wonderful job of not falling into the trap of making him anything more or less than a human being. Matthew becomes so personalized to us (without ever making an appearance in the show as a character) that we do not need to look at him as an icon or a symbol. We cry for him because he was Dennis and Judy Shepard's son, he was Romaine Patterson's friend, he was a boy that many knew and cared for and most importantly before the murder he was just one of us...a human being.

Production Choices

The play was written by eight actors, who eventually played not only the town of Laramie but themselves as well. Traditionally that is how the play is done, with eight actors. I chose to go with a larger number (fourteen) because I wanted enough actors to be able to suggest an entire town, an entire media corps, a jury. The addition of extra bodies really helped me to convey what I thought was a hugely important element of the script, which was that the murder of Matthew was a crime that affected so many people on so many levels. I also chose to include slides in the performances. The slides were images that fell into one of two categories:
1) Suggestive, generic images such as churches, landscapes etc. and
2) Images of people involved, such as McKinney and Henderson, Fred Phelps and even Matthew.

The slides were meant to be background, but I remember getting very wrapped up in deciding which ones to use because I wanted so badly not to let my choice of images detract from or defuse the images manifested by the script. Feedback on the slides has been mostly positive, with particular sections garnering some very noticeable responses. The staging of the play is defiantly left up to the director. There are no stage directions or set descriptions in the script, so it is truly up to the design team to create whatever set they feel best works for their space, their actors, and their audience. In both productions I went with a simple raked platform in the center and two satellite platforms on either front corner. This allowed for a constant flow of traffic without sacrificing the ability to isolate areas at times. Costumes and props were kept to the suggestive, as the script suggests. A hat, a scarf or even a hand rag becomes all the costume needed to separate one actor's character from another. Other than a few costume pieces the actors all wore black (sigh, I know that sounds so damn artsy but it worked), the color was uniform, but the style of clothing varied from actor to actor (long sleeve shirt versus short, jeans versus slacks, etc.).
The style of the acting itself was at times more akin to Reader's Theatre in the sense that the Narrarator (which each cast member spends time as) addresses the audience directly (common enough) but so do many of the characters. The fourth wall is not only broken but it is torn down completely so that the audience becomes more than just an observer, it is as if they themselves are the members of the Tectonic Theatre Company conducting the interviews from which this play sprung.

Other Influential Works

This is not the first artistic venture to bring social injustice to light, that is certain. In 1959 James Howard Griffin wrote the book Black Like Me. In that book Griffin, a white man, darkened his skin and lived for several months as a black man in the Deep South. It was Griffin's intentions to bring the plight of the African American to our culture's attention from a first hand point of view, and he succeeded with alarming clarity. Working Films is a group dedicated to the belief that social change can be brought about through the documentary experience. Their film The Two Towns of Jasper explores the story of James Byrd, a black man who was chained to a pick up truck and dragged several miles until his head was severed by a culvert. Byrd's murder occurred a few months before Matthews, and both of the men's mothers would join together in speaking out against hate crimes and championing the passing of Hate Crime legislation. The documentary is filmed with two crews, one black crew interviewing the black residents of Jasper and one white crew filming the white residents of Jasper. As one might suspect, there are two widely divergent points of view as to whether or not things have changed in that small town. The aspects of that murder and its affects on the town and residents of Jasper are remarkably close to Laramie's experiences. More can be discovered about this group and its work at www.workingfilms.org.

The book Anne Frank: Diary of a Young Girl (along with the stage play, The Diary of Anne Frank) may be the most famous example of an artistic work being used to point out social injustice. The Holocaust is after all the biggest hate crime to date and that book is, to this day, a moving and disturbing reminder of man's ability to inflict pain and cruelty on his fellow man. The arts have been an invaluable tool over the years in pointing out society's shortcomings and illustrating man's need for compassion and understanding. Laramie is no more or less a tool for change and is perhaps an indication that audiences are willing to seek out experiences in theatre that are not centered around carousels, showboats, state fairs and visits to Oklahoma. As Artistic Director of a theatre company (and the one who pays most of the bills), I understand that not every show in my season can be like Laramie, but it is heartening to think that I need not underestimate my audience's taste for relevant drama completely.

Some Responses

I asked people that were involved in the show to comment on their feelings about the play, not my productions of it but just the script itself. I am not surprised at the responses I got, but I was at the strength of commitment behind them.
" I first read The Laramie Project in 2001. While browsing through the new books at the library, I happened upon it. I had read about the play, so I knew what it was about. Also, Opera House had recently performed Gross Indecency by Moises Kaufman, so the author's name caught my eye. I had no idea, however, what I was in for.
The moment I read it I asked everyone else in my company to read it as well. .

The Laramie Project succeeds because it is about people, not issues.

I love everything about The Laramie Project. I love the way the play is constructed. I love the plurality of it, the way multiple voices are heard throughout it. I love how powerfully it touched the Tectonic Company and how deeply they delved into the story they put on stage. I love that the writers became part of the story. I love it {sic} eloquence and beauty, its absorbing nature (both on the page and on the stage), its enduring qualities. Unlike many documentary plays, I believe The Laramie Project will be performed for years to come; it is grounded in the specifics of Matthew Shepard's story, but it soars above and speaks to us all."- Alice Sherwood, Company Manager, Opera House Theatre Company

"I was aware of the Matthew Shepard tragedy through news reports and I was outraged as the details were revealed. However, not until I worked on the play was the story ever presented to me on a personal level. That has been the greatest effect on me, the removal of what happened from behind the glass of a television tube, to see actors relive the horror, sadness and hope that were the products of this chain of events."- Chris Hill, Lighting Designer

"...I am glad I did this show, but I would not mind having done a "Showboat" instead...I learned so much from this show and do not regret having done it but I don't know if I could ever do it again."- Mariangela Saavedra, Cast Member

I also asked audiences members to fill out questionnaires describing their thoughts on the show and its ability to bring about change. Comments were remarkably similar and ranged from merely appreciative to fiercely supportive.

A Conclusion
Actors, designers, technicians and production staff all had some degree of devotion to this play. Audience members were moved (many of them to tears) by it. It would seem that my initial question (Do plays or other works of art like this one have the ability to affect social change?) was easily answered. Yes, it does appear that the arts have that power to bring about positive change in how people feel about certain issues. The only problem is that the arts, including Laramie, do not have the ability to affect people who do not witness them. A man who is apt to react violently to homosexuals is not going to buy a ticket to this play. A Klansman will not rent The Two Towns of Jasper or read Black Like Me. It is hard to imagine a neo-nazi reading Anne Frank or visiting the Holocaust Museum. This play works only if it is seen. I cannot describe its' powerful content to a person and have them feel it. There is no transitive property of art. One person can't give another person his or her experience of viewing something like Laramie. "Change does not come easy, and I don't think people were ready for it..." Jonas Slonnaker tells us at the end of the play. Indeed, until people are ready to change their views on race, sexual preference, or gender (or even age) society will not. That is not to say that art should abandon the struggle; it only means that it will be a long and at times arduous struggle. The preconceptions or prejudices that we individually hold regarding stories like James Byrd's or Matthew Shepard's often hinder our ability to learn from them. The Laramie Project is many things but it is not a gay play. No gay person will learn from it. They already know they can experience pain, animosity and even death for being gay. It is a straight play, because its messages are meant to be learned from and it is straight people who will learn the most from it. No Jew living under Nazi rule would need to be exposed to Anne Frank to realize the danger hate had created for them and no black person needs James Howard Griffin to tell them that life for a black person below the Mason-Dixon line was a perilous and spirit breaking experience. These lessons are meant for the rest of us to learn.