Hedwig Admission Essay 10-14-2014 DraftI don’t hesitate to tell people that ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’ saved my life. At the stage door of the Belasco theater, I yelled out to Lena and Andrew, “This show means the world to me!” and “Hedwig saved my life!” amidst the sea of selfies, HedHeads (the patiently waiting fans) and autographs. It isn’t difficult for me to make my absolute adoration of this show known, and yet the reasons why it means so much to me aren’t exactly simple to explain, particularly in under five hundred words.
When recently prompted to explain why I chose to leave Columbia College Chicago, I came up with the phrase, “priorities realized”, which is the best way that I’ve found to express what happened. I unfortunately had my first experience with outward homophobia directed at me on an especially frequent basis. Due to the way bigotry made itself known, I found myself realizing how lucky I had been in the past to find camaraderie in
Spoopy Drag GermsAllegedly back in 2001 (I think)
David Letterman refused to shake John Cameron Mitchell’s hand
after he performed as Hedwig on ‘The Late Show’
due to the fear of spoopy drag germs
and what proves that Hedwig has spiritual clout
is that Karma placed an enormous billboard
with Hedwig’s beautiful glittering face (and spoopy drag germs)
directly adjacent to the Ed Sullivan theater
I love when Karma has a sense of humor
I'm That Dalmatian From The Photofor about a week I thought I might be a lesbian
or at least felt I ought to find a better word than Pansexual
and I’m back to feeling comfortable with the word
but nothing feels absolutely correct
so I may easily become one who identifies as queer
without narrowing the specifications any further
but at the moment I like the word Pansexual
possibly because the unofficial is a Pink/Yellow/Blue Panda
and I’m keeping my Bi Pride sticker on my phone
even though its nearly disintegrated into nothingness
no matter what I am calling/have called/will call myself
I am extremely extremely extremely queer and glad of it
Hegemonic masculinityI’ve found myself very dismissive of straight boys recently
and I felt somehow simultaneously mean and empowered
but it seemed also that I was a hypocrite
I kept on grappling with myself with:
“How can I identify as pansexual,
if I’m ruling out someone due to factors related to gender”
and “how can I be a demigirl
if in my gender presentation
I want absolutely nothing to do with hyper masculinity”
but then I discovered a term that was my master key:
That is the thing I want absolutely nothing with
since what seems to compel gross straight boys
(and probably some mislead closeted queer ones)
to be absolutely misogynistic
and add "No Homo" as an epilogue
to any human emotion they’re brave enough to show
that is the masculinity I want no part in
both in my own identity
and in the identity of anyone I might ever choose to share myself with
one of my teachers once eluded to me being a man-hating feminist
and I’d like to u
Past SelfI’m very nurturing of my past self
it’s super weird and I acknowledge that
but when paging through an old diary
when I read accounts of the bad things
that occurred to me- past me
it brings back all that emotion
but I feel it as if it were empathy for someone else
since I am not that same human that I was
and reading of my hopes and dreams of that time
seeing my now self achieve them
even if they’re as seemingly passive as seeing Hedwig
I feel fargin for that person I once was
like “hey, love, you made it far enough to see
the thing that seemed to help most
in person- in the flesh- in the soul
I’ll keep us going longer
because who knows what else might reveal itself as possible”
and I know my self a year from now
will likely look down upon this self that now types
like “hey, love, you made it far enough to ______________"
something that has come up quite often
is the importance of having a physical home
we talk about it in Theatre and Ecofeminism
and in Native American Studies last semester
and I’m not sure what to think
since that isn’t all that important to me
for my sake
home means the ideals I hold sacred
so anywhere that embodies those
feels to me like home
I went back to my childhood neighborhood
and although it never felt like home
it seemed particularly unwelcoming
and now, as when I was eight,
in times of sadness I wish I were living in NYC
but I know even if I find a home there
I might not be able to stay in it
since the only reason Minnesota began feeling like home
and since my hope is to find something similar to SPCPA
once that dries up and I graduate for real
I’ll have to start back over from square one
But everyone seems to keep telling me it’s important
that one without a home is nothing
but I get antsy with physical spaces unless my soul feels
Proof I'd Make A Charming YitzhakI was called “butch”
and I don’t mind
but it caught me off guard
since I wasn’t even trying
and believe me I have tried
in my glitter tights
and femme shoes
I was read as more masculine
than when I make a valiant attempt
I felt weirdly honored though
that I was considered in the same category
as those who have rebellious disregard for gender roles
when I am still so shy with my experimenting
but I want to try more stuff
since college is meant to be when one finds themselves
and does different things to see what fits
I’ve heard it said that gender experimentation
makes one become more whole
so I’m going to keep doing my thing
and perhaps I’ll be read as butch on a day I’m actually trying
IrmaI am very eager as of late
to prove myself queer
to the point where
today I felt myself falling head over heels
in Disney Princess love
with a girl solely since she listened
while I fangirled about Hedwig and Cabaret
and recounted the Queer German sadness
I offered to let her read my playbill
I imagined us going out for coffee after class
and crumbling into each other
as the emotion of our passion climaxed while we talked
but before the end of rehearsal
the tiniest tidbit of rationality in my brain kicked in
and told me how unwell it would work out
because I am not one bit good at romance
yet I’ve been listening to queer love songs
imagining a alternate universe
in which I have girlfriend
Fourteenth of SeptemberI’m really good at bitterness
I mean I don’t want to be
but when I’m expected to sympathize
with cruel people when they’re justly dumped or fired
what usually occurs
without me even thinking about it
I say “good” and/or “that’s not surprising”
and the residual catholic guilt inside me
tells me this is a wrong reaction
and yet when someone is misogynistic
it’s no surprise their wife would want a divorce
and when someone is a bad teacher
it’s only best for the students for them to be let go
I'd Rather Be DeadYou're always asking me if I had anything worth dying for.
I'll pose the opposite to you and ask you this:
"Why is it that you find life to be worth living?"
Is it so interesting to go through each day feeling anxious?
To the point that you feel nauseated enough to collapse.
Is it so joyous to spend each night staring at a blank ceiling,
Hearing the clock tick on toward morning,
And yet you lie awake.
Tired, but awake, emotionless, but awake...
Do you truly get up each day, facing it with optimism.
Or do you look at the news and the state of the world,
And genuinely fear for your safety?
Now, if it were me that you had asked my dear,
I'd tell you quite honestly: That I'd rather be dead.
At least I would not have to hear the white lie inside my head.
That tomorrow will bring me a 'better' day...
But of course, you are welcome to believe that.
Stripping MeYou may take what you want from me,
Be it my pride or dignity.
You may throw insults at me,
And burn the shredded pieces of my sanity.
You may belittle me, as much as you want,
If only to make your meager life worth living.
But even if you do all that...
No one will protect you when I pull you into the dark.
No one will try to search for you, as my leather ropes tie you down.
No one will hear your screams as metallic screws drive into your face,
Etching an eternal smile, since you'll never leave this place...
"Now then, my dear sweet James, shall we play our favourite game?"
You are someone's reason to liveShe had skin like a cactus-
could only hurt
anyone who got
she held what
i'd haunt you if you'd like.my hands are paralyzed and you're waiting for me to touch your face,
but that doesn't really matter because i'd rather touch your soul
and if you close your eyes long enough i'll read you poetry as we lay atop the monkeybars
in this old and rusted park
you can pretend to know the constellations and point them out to me and i'll tell you they're all beautiful, but nothing compared to you
if i'm lucky you'll blush and laugh at me,
tell me i say the dumbest things but deep down it'll register in your soul just how much i love you
and i know they say you can only save yourself, but darling i swear if you'll just have the slightest bit of faith i'll save the fuck out of you or i'll destroy myself trying,
because i honestly can't think of any other purpose for my life
or what smidge of it i've been able to hold on to.
Hopeful HeartThe sky is pitch black
And so is my heart
After all the pain
I went through
After all the effort
For a lost cause
So I look up
Looking for a star
A ray of light
To guide me away
Away from this darkness inside my heart
You have to know pain to....Sometimes you have to fall apart.
You have to bleed out,
In order to have the courage to shout.
Against the darkness.
You have to know what it's like,
To feel disconnected,
To be best friends with your anxiety,
Because it's the only thing to keep you company.
Because you've never felt so lonely.
Even though you're surrounded in a sea of noise,
Which drowns out your voice.
As you choke,
On society's noose
You're afraid to cut it loose.
Because you don't know what others will think of you.
You have to know depression.
You have to know what it's like to be alone.
You have to know what it's like to be silenced.
In order to appreciate breathing,
And to fall in love with colors.
After being blind,
For all of that time.
And only being able to see memories,
In order to appreciate a person's presence.
And the feeling,
When you finally find a friend.
Who will stick with you until the end.
And not judge you for your scars.
But loves who you are.
I was so mean, my god was I mean, and you were the innocent archetype. You were never that open, or naive after that year. I feel like I broke you, but it took me so long to realize, and now I cannot apologize since, I'm sure, you don't remember. Many of the people I hurt don't remember me, but my words shaped their souls and I wish I could take all that back. It's true, you know, those that are hurt tend to hurt others, but you are anomalistically kind, and I wish I could be as devoted to anything in life as you were to everything. You'll make it I swear, even while I am stuck. I'll be your Renfield, perhaps then I'll earn your forgiveness.