Moving On

It is with much sadness that I write this blog post.  Our small, close, family-like department recently suffered a loss.  Professor Glenda Dickerson passed away this past week, and it is a death that we all feel deeply.  The theatre department is like a family both in size, love, and relations.  I never had Professor Dickerson, but the mere principle of losing “one of our own” resonates in my heart.

Professor Dickerson was always a sort of mysterious figure to me.  I was finally going to have a class with her this semester, but another professor ended up taking that class over.  I was thrilled to meet this woman who was renowned within the department for her intellect and experience.  These were qualities I heard generally alluded to but never fully researched until Professor Dickerson fell ill and I found myself searching for what I had missed out on.

Once I began unearthing Professor Dickerson’s accomplishments, my remorse over never having spoken to her grew tremendously.  She directed on Broadway.  She won a Peabody award.  She wrote and co-wrote many books.  Her knowledge seemed boundless, particularly on the subjects of African-American theatre and the art of directing.  This woman had a varied and successful career that anyone would be envious of and seems to have had the courage, vision, and smarts to back it up.

For me, personally, Professor Dickerson’s passing completed the “cycle of threes” that death is supposed to run in, all of which occurred in the past week.  This has led to much reflecting, ruminating, and honestly, steeping myself in art that both comforted me and led to a deeper examination of my relationships and emotions.  I found immense solace in Jason Robert Brown’s “Hear My Song” from Songs for a New World.  My grief was expounded, examined, and ultimately, comforted by “I’ll Fly Away.”  I was also able to use my theatre community and my own personal work to help me move on and make good out of so much bad.

The three people who passed away who touched my life, directly or indirectly, have inspired me to continue on the route I am currently headed.  Each of these individuals accomplished incredible things throughout their lifetimes, which ranged from far too short to impressively long.  They faced adversity, stared it in the face, and overcame their personal obstacles.  I strive to do the same.  While grief can sometimes be overwhelming, it is important to come to a place of understanding the best we can.

For me, that comes by pushing through and creating something new.  Of course a play I write will never replace the loved one I have lost, but by rendering something new I am forcing myself to move on.  I hope that others in my department will do the same.  Important and impressive art has emerged from the deepest tragedies.  Think of Angels in America, one of the greatest American plays, which was inspired by the AIDS epidemic and how it affected the playwright specifically.

There is a great line from the aptly titled song “Move On” from the musical Sunday in the Park with George, “I want to know how to get through, through to something new.”  I think that “getting through” for me both represents the artistic breakthrough that is so desirable in the midst of a project, as well as “getting through” the hardships you face to get to a place where you can create again.  I intend to move on, and I hope to continue the legacy of these people who have touched my life.