Dearest B'DAT Class of 2020,
The last time the class of 2020 stood in a production circle hearing the words “I will hold you up, I will not let you fall” we did not know what would come of this unprecedented senior spring. We did not know how many detours would derail best laid plans. We did not know then, that it was the last time we would be one team. There are so many end of year rituals untouched, incomplete, on pause… indefinitely.
Class of 2020, I wish we could stand in our studio, or on our stage, and thank each of you personally. You are our largest class, our most complex, our most remarkable. You have pushed yourselves, and each other, and everyone lucky enough to collaborate with you to new limits. You demanded excellence, you delivered excellence, and still you were denied the opportunity to celebrate that excellence together.
But the world is cracked open. The change we’ve only read about in history books (or acted out in plays) is meeting us where we are. Living history is pushing us forward through fear and anger and doubt. May we finally meet the arm of justice head on, and may you be the people who help tell this story for generations to come. “I graduated high school in 2020… in the middle of the pandemic… Black Lives Matter… the year that everything changed…”
As a theatre practitioner you have tools to record, recreate and embody the human experience. You are empathy personified, curiosity self-contained. You do not take no for an answer. When I think about what the capital A Artists are doing right now, I know you are among them. I hope you will memorize the details of New York City in this moment. Memorize how you FEEL. Talk to people. Talk to all the people. Do not be complacent. Ever. Capture words and image and movement and song. Be the psychological record of THIS moment in time. What you do with those observations? Limitless.
Graduating high school is really a collection of rituals. The most obvious one is the big show with the caps and the gowns, fancy clothes and diplomas. But Beacon theatre students usually hurdle through the spring production season, present original written work at a play festival in collaboration with Theatre Development Fund, are celebrated at end of the year Thespian Induction and awards night, and THEN we celebrate Thesis projects at the very end of the academic year.
There are also the tiny rituals. The last class in the drama studio. The Post-It thank yous. Signing year books. Passing on choir ribbons. The filching of a favorite costume? Getting one last selfie in the music or prop lab. Clearing old scripts, paint/ rehearsal clothes out of a “locker”. And lastly signing the wall in the costume loft.
So much of that may seem frivolous and indulgent now - and it would be if those rituals were not deeply tied to a craft that you have served with a buzzing mind and full heart. It is okay to be sad about what will have to wait for your reunion. And don’t you worry, the wall will still be there and you will sign it.
We've all face the mixed bag of emotions of the last three months differently, but I hope that even if you read these words quietly to yourself in the middle of the night you will smile and remember that despite everything that has made 2020 the plot arc that won’t stop arcing, your first seven and a half semesters of high school WERE nothing short of remarkable. You are remarkable. And It seems fitting that your Graduation should be too.
You have taught me so much and I am so thankful to be changed by every single one of you.
I will hold you up. I will not let you fall.
Happy Graduation Class of 2020!
I’ll be shouting for you from Brooklyn!
Respectfully,
Cimato
Class of 2020, I wish we could stand in our studio, or on our stage, and thank each of you personally. You are our largest class, our most complex, our most remarkable. You have pushed yourselves, and each other, and everyone lucky enough to collaborate with you to new limits. You demanded excellence, you delivered excellence, and still you were denied the opportunity to celebrate that excellence together.
But the world is cracked open. The change we’ve only read about in history books (or acted out in plays) is meeting us where we are. Living history is pushing us forward through fear and anger and doubt. May we finally meet the arm of justice head on, and may you be the people who help tell this story for generations to come. “I graduated high school in 2020… in the middle of the pandemic… Black Lives Matter… the year that everything changed…”
As a theatre practitioner you have tools to record, recreate and embody the human experience. You are empathy personified, curiosity self-contained. You do not take no for an answer. When I think about what the capital A Artists are doing right now, I know you are among them. I hope you will memorize the details of New York City in this moment. Memorize how you FEEL. Talk to people. Talk to all the people. Do not be complacent. Ever. Capture words and image and movement and song. Be the psychological record of THIS moment in time. What you do with those observations? Limitless.
Graduating high school is really a collection of rituals. The most obvious one is the big show with the caps and the gowns, fancy clothes and diplomas. But Beacon theatre students usually hurdle through the spring production season, present original written work at a play festival in collaboration with Theatre Development Fund, are celebrated at end of the year Thespian Induction and awards night, and THEN we celebrate Thesis projects at the very end of the academic year.
There are also the tiny rituals. The last class in the drama studio. The Post-It thank yous. Signing year books. Passing on choir ribbons. The filching of a favorite costume? Getting one last selfie in the music or prop lab. Clearing old scripts, paint/ rehearsal clothes out of a “locker”. And lastly signing the wall in the costume loft.
So much of that may seem frivolous and indulgent now - and it would be if those rituals were not deeply tied to a craft that you have served with a buzzing mind and full heart. It is okay to be sad about what will have to wait for your reunion. And don’t you worry, the wall will still be there and you will sign it.
We've all face the mixed bag of emotions of the last three months differently, but I hope that even if you read these words quietly to yourself in the middle of the night you will smile and remember that despite everything that has made 2020 the plot arc that won’t stop arcing, your first seven and a half semesters of high school WERE nothing short of remarkable. You are remarkable. And It seems fitting that your Graduation should be too.
You have taught me so much and I am so thankful to be changed by every single one of you.
I will hold you up. I will not let you fall.
Happy Graduation Class of 2020!
I’ll be shouting for you from Brooklyn!
Respectfully,
Cimato