Michael was asked to play trumpet in the house band for a benefit show the other night, and I was invited to attend as his guest (thanks to the very generous folks over at Our Time.) This benefit was for “Our Time Theatre Company” a 501 (c) (3) non-profit organization dedicated to providing an artistic home for young people who stutter. The company members of Our Time (age 9-19) study acting, singing, playwriting, drumming, and dance with professional artists.
The benefit was honoring Bill Withers, a former stutterer, and the performances were filled with renditions of his famous tunes — Lovely Day, Ain’t No Sunshine, Lean On Me, etc. Interspersed throughout the performance were pieces written and performed by the company, accompanied at times by a handful of New York actors (Rosie Perez, Sam Watterston, Jesse L. Martin, Lauren Ambrose and many others)
These performances – from the writing right through to the presentation — were so amazing. Inspiring, humbling, and exciting.
As I watched and listened to these kids speak and sing, the former with various levels of difficulty, the later with fluid ease, I was struck by this thought: These kids were fierce, and they wanted their voices to be heard, regardless of how long it took them to get their point across. Not only did they want to be heard, but they demanded that I listen. That demand came in the form of poise, persistence and a true respect for themselves.
One young man, Andre Gillyard, spoke about having “given up” when he was 12 years old. He’d stopped speaking out in class, hanging out with his friends, going outside his home — his stuttering made him feel isolated and alone, without the ability to have his opinion heard. His mother discovered “Our Time” and through the work that he’d done with this group, here he was, speaking to all of us — telling us his dreams and frustrations. Poised, emotive, and intelligent, he stood and spoke.
So this got me to thinking about what I, as an artist, take for granted. What I fret about – what I distract myself with in order to get away from an uncomfortable situation or feeling. And I started to think that I can do better than that.
In that hour and a half, I found that I wanted to be as fierce as these kids — as dedicated as they are to having their voices heard. Thank you Our Time.
Check out www.ourtimetheatre.org
