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PRESENCE Compared
with generations past, theatre artists today are more likely
to commute to rehearsal with earphones on, listening to the
soundtracks of our lives instead of the voices around us. We
send quick, pithy texts instead of calling even our best
friends. Many of us actors keep our cell phones in our
dressing rooms and text throughout the play, unable to
relinquish “connectedness” for a two-hour stretch even
while we act – the one thing that purportedly makes us feel
the most connected. This
isn’t to point a finger. Our generation is accustomed to
communicating with multiple people simultaneously. We
experience it as being hyperconnected to a world community,
part of the buzz we get from being a Generation Without
Borders. And it is wildly attractive. To be connected across
state lines, time zones, and continents is an achievement we
should make use of. But
there is a flip-side. As connected as we are globally, we are
increasingly cut off from our own communities. Our iPod drowns
out the person sitting next to us on our commute. We don’t
know the name of our neighbor on the other side of the wall.
We text with our friend across the country rather than notice
the distinctive way the stranger in front of us holds his
cane. While some borders have dissolved, new, perhaps subtler,
borders have emerged all around us. My call to action for the
artists of Generation Without Borders is to strengthen our
communities. To
be present. To take the buds out of our ears and listen. To
witness and relate to the plights of strangers we see in the
street. To be moved by a play and share our thoughts with our
fellow audience members before immediately posting a status
update. To look out. To offer up. To volunteer in our
communities and know who our neighbors are. Let’s embrace
what’s best about our new connectedness and reject what
threatens to make us self-absorbed, distracted and myopic.
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