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My friend Elizabeth's play
May. 29th, 2008 08:46 pmI wrote about this play last August, when she performed it as part of the Manna Fest, a theater festival that was formerly part of the Fringe Festival. The organizers decided that running it at the same time as the Fringe when it was not actually part of the Fringe did not work, so they are running the Spirit in the House festival in May this year, instead.
I meant to post about this earlier in the week, but going to WisCon was not good for my ability to stay on task this week. (Also not crossed off: schedule some play dates for the girls, refill a prescription, and schedule an oil change for my car -- I tried to do that today but was unable to remember the name of the place where I get it done, my brain was offering up "Autotune" instead of "Electratune" and when I called Ed to ask him where I get my car's oil changed, I got his voicemail. Also today, I forgot to call Ed to tell him to get milk on the way home from work, and then I also forgot to get milk on my way home from Kiera's dance class. This after running out of milk during the day on Tuesday, forgetting to call Ed to have him stop for it, and having to make mashed potatoes with chicken broth instead.)
I was thinking about Witnessing to a Murder on Monday while driving home from WisCon with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jiawen, because for some reason (I forget why) the name Kitty Genovese came up. Kitty was the woman who was murdered in New York City in the 1960s, while her neighbors failed to help her. The story as it's usually told claims that dozens of people watched a lengthy attack from their doorways while not so much as calling the police -- in fact (at least according to the Wikipedia entry, which I'll admit is my primary source here) the main problem was that her neighbors lacked follow-through. Apparently one man shouted "leave her alone!" and when the attacker left, he figured he'd solved the problem -- he didn't realize that Kitty had already been stabbed and was in dire need of help. Others called the police, but since they thought she'd just been punched, and was now up and walking away, the police didn't give the call a high priority. She was finally murdered in a back hallway, out of view of the people who'd tried to help her before. (One person did, in fact, stand in his doorway and watch the murder, but only one. As horrifying as that is, it's a lot less horrifying than the image of the entire neighborhood of people standing there and watching.)
What would have saved Kitty -- maybe -- would have been if someone had actually stepped out of their own safety zone to intervene. Calling the police is really quite easy. Getting personally involved requires a whole different level of courage, especially in a situation where someone has a weapon.
That, in fact, is what Elizabeth did: she heard someone screaming, and went running to help. Her play explains what happened, and then how she dealt with the aftermath. It's autobiographical; the story she tells really did happen. It's an intense story, but it's also surprisingly funny in places.
One local paper interviewed Elizabeth and then tried to make her sound less weird by replacing all the Quaker Christian stuff she'd said with New Age stuff. Because Christians, you know, are freaks. Much freakier than New Agers.
There are three performances left: Friday at 7 pm, Saturday at 2:30 pm, and Sunday at 4 pm. Tickets are $12 (or $10 if you're a student or senior. Or $8 if you're under twelve, but if you're under twelve) and you can just buy them at the door.
I meant to post about this earlier in the week, but going to WisCon was not good for my ability to stay on task this week. (Also not crossed off: schedule some play dates for the girls, refill a prescription, and schedule an oil change for my car -- I tried to do that today but was unable to remember the name of the place where I get it done, my brain was offering up "Autotune" instead of "Electratune" and when I called Ed to ask him where I get my car's oil changed, I got his voicemail. Also today, I forgot to call Ed to tell him to get milk on the way home from work, and then I also forgot to get milk on my way home from Kiera's dance class. This after running out of milk during the day on Tuesday, forgetting to call Ed to have him stop for it, and having to make mashed potatoes with chicken broth instead.)
I was thinking about Witnessing to a Murder on Monday while driving home from WisCon with
jiawen, because for some reason (I forget why) the name Kitty Genovese came up. Kitty was the woman who was murdered in New York City in the 1960s, while her neighbors failed to help her. The story as it's usually told claims that dozens of people watched a lengthy attack from their doorways while not so much as calling the police -- in fact (at least according to the Wikipedia entry, which I'll admit is my primary source here) the main problem was that her neighbors lacked follow-through. Apparently one man shouted "leave her alone!" and when the attacker left, he figured he'd solved the problem -- he didn't realize that Kitty had already been stabbed and was in dire need of help. Others called the police, but since they thought she'd just been punched, and was now up and walking away, the police didn't give the call a high priority. She was finally murdered in a back hallway, out of view of the people who'd tried to help her before. (One person did, in fact, stand in his doorway and watch the murder, but only one. As horrifying as that is, it's a lot less horrifying than the image of the entire neighborhood of people standing there and watching.)What would have saved Kitty -- maybe -- would have been if someone had actually stepped out of their own safety zone to intervene. Calling the police is really quite easy. Getting personally involved requires a whole different level of courage, especially in a situation where someone has a weapon.
That, in fact, is what Elizabeth did: she heard someone screaming, and went running to help. Her play explains what happened, and then how she dealt with the aftermath. It's autobiographical; the story she tells really did happen. It's an intense story, but it's also surprisingly funny in places.
One local paper interviewed Elizabeth and then tried to make her sound less weird by replacing all the Quaker Christian stuff she'd said with New Age stuff. Because Christians, you know, are freaks. Much freakier than New Agers.
There are three performances left: Friday at 7 pm, Saturday at 2:30 pm, and Sunday at 4 pm. Tickets are $12 (or $10 if you're a student or senior. Or $8 if you're under twelve, but if you're under twelve) and you can just buy them at the door.
