Read on Twitter
Listen. It took me years to realize I stopped auditioning for musical theater not bc I was lazy, but bc I was in pain. It wasnât the rejectionâit was walking into a room & being made to feel like your body was unreasonable, that by showing up you were wasting everyoneâs time.
It was standing in a row with 30 girls in leotards and LaDucas and watching the casting directorâs eyes skip over you as he scanned the line, or mindlessly push your headshot to the rejection pile with without even looking at you long enough to see your face.
It was the urge to walk up to the only other big girl in the holding room & sit in silent camaraderie, while secretly hating she was there. There were only so many âold ladyâ (or âfat friendâ or âclueless teenâ or âsassy villainâ) roles to go around and theyâd never cast you both
It was hating yourself for feeling that way. It was the opposite of community.
It was how condescendingly nice the other women were to you because they didnât for a moment consider you to be their competition.
It was being careful not to sit too close to the other big girl bc sitting next to each other would somehow draw more attention to your bodies and âotherâ you further, oblivious to how you much you needed to talk to her. Not remotely ready to have that conversation.
It was the desperate need to be the, funniest, most quick-witted person in the room up to the point of sheer exhaustion, because you knew the other parts of youâyour talent, your voice, your vulnerabilyâwerenât going to get you through The Door and werenât particularly relevant.
It was playing every old lady in the canon by the time you got to college, where the cycle began again. How you only booked characters were loved âin spiteâ of their weight (or loving them was a punchline) teaching you that you werenât a believeable object of love and desire.
It was dragging this lesson behind youâlike Peter Panâs shadow attached by a threadâthrough every relationship, romantic and platonic. It was learning this lesson so early that it felt more like unmoveable bedrock than someoneâs opinion.
It was every thin person you saw in a fat suit.
It was the festering resentment for the professor who gave you unecessarily cruel âfeedbackâ & âadviceâ & blocked your opportunities for the sake of âpreparing you for the real worldâ even though it wasnât. Even though you just wanted to take full advantage of an arts education.
It was being taken aside in a very public manner to be told that you were fantastic but too fat, or too fat but they were going to cast you anyway because director was willing to see past it bc they were so innovative. (THEY didnât care, you see, but OTHER PEOPLE would.)
It was being told by a man safe behind his plastic picnic table that he âjust didnât think you were castableâ as if he wasnât the one doing the casting. As if he wasnât savoring the moment.
It was how, on the rare occasion you did see a fat person play a âbeautifulâ character, the team clearly reveled in their SUBVERSIVENESS, how in their gratuitous signaling of how BODY POSITIVE they were for NOT making it about the actorâs size, they made it about the actorâs size
It was feeling begrudgingly grateful for the positive representation. And knowing it was all well-meant.
It was knowing that people would constantly site that production as an example when arguing that theatre isnât fatphobic.
It was being able to recall every detail of the few times you saw a fat person play a âbeautifulâ character, mystified by their ability to do so w/o any trace of apology (and bc it was so novel.) It was never clocking a thin actor playing âbeautifulâ bc beauty is thin by default.
It was listening to friends you respect talk about âBroadway Bodiesââwhen, of course, anyone who has ever been on Broadway has a âBroadway Bodyââand wanting to scream, âJUST FUCKING SAY THIN. JUST SAY MY BODY DOESNâT BELONG ON BROADWAY.â
It was gaining weight out of defiance. It was gaining weight because fuck them. It was gaining weight because fuck it.
It was losing an enormous amount of weight, feeling like the same person you were before, and being furious at yourself for wasting so much time, ashamed of how little progress youâd made in pursuit of your dream, terrified you missed your chance and that it was too late.
It was how avoiding auditions didnât stop the painfully longing to perform.
It was years of training yourself to feel nothing because it was just easier.
Itâs knowing that youâll eventually be sucked back in because thatâs showbiz, babyyyyyy.
Friends.
Broadway is fucking sizeist. Itâs a lot of âistâs. Itâs a Luxury Community in a field where most of us canât afford to buy property and the gates at the perimeter are HIGH.
And the institutionalized bias is coming from inside the house.
Broadway is fucking sizeist. Itâs a lot of âistâs. Itâs a Luxury Community in a field where most of us canât afford to buy property and the gates at the perimeter are HIGH.
And the institutionalized bias is coming from inside the house.
The @nytimes made a fatphobic comment and they shouldnât have and it was gross and yes we have every right to call it out and complain.
It was also a symptom of a deeply ingrained disease.
Broadway needs to come back better. We all deserve it.
#broadwaybodies
#Broadway
It was also a symptom of a deeply ingrained disease.
Broadway needs to come back better. We all deserve it.
#broadwaybodies
#Broadway
#broadwaybodypositivity #musicaltheatre #broadwaymusical #actorsequity #AEA #fatphobia #fatphobic #Theatre #scottrudin #karenolivo
I have no excuse for not understanding Twitter tho, so letâs just say technology is also fatphobic. Hereâs the damn thing in order: https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1390697247768289280.html
