As kids at the Aspen Community School, we were cast in plays that were wildly inappropriate for our age — think “Streetcar Named Desire” and “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” In the latter, I played a nurse administering shock treatment to my friend Andy, who portrayed McMurphy — the role Jack Nicholson depicted in the film. I was 11. Andy was 14.
A bold New York City director named Paul Rubin had just moved to town. He, along with some other “community” parents, thought it was time us naive Aspen youth should tackle dramatic plays. Felicity Huffman caught her acting bug playing Blanche in “Streetcar.” You won’t convince me otherwise.
In “Blues for Mr. Charlie” by James Baldwin, we primarily all-white students were painted in black face — in case you weren’t yet cringing above. Ironically, that play, loosely based on Emmett Till’s murder, was my first introduction to understanding the sickening force that is racism.
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