MEDEA, Part I

 

A new drama professor entered our lives my sophomore year, a man who was to change my life.  Mr. Russell was very quiet and didn't seem to notice me at all.  But I noticed him.  He announced that he would direct Robinson Jeffers' version of the Greek masterpiece Medea.  The play centered on Medea, a woman of passionate, but primitive emotions who becomes intensely jealous when her husband, Jason, falls in love with another woman.  She enacts the most horrifying act of revenge imaginable--she murders her two little sons fathered by Jason.  I wanted to play that role more than I had ever wanted anything in my life.  No one could imagine me playing the part.  My speech teacher said my voice was far too light for Medea.  And Mr. Russell, who was to direct the production, did not seem to know that I existed.  But I knew there was more to me than the skinny, inexperienced kid who joked her way through life.  I knew pain well and I could use it.  I gave an intense, emotional reading, but I could not tell if I had done well.  Several days were to pass before the cast list was posted.  And then I couldn't bring myself to look at it for fear the pain of disappointment would be too much to bear.

But I was given the part.  My throat closed up and I could not speak.  The other girls began to congratulate me, hiding their surprise.  I smiled and nodded but was silent.  I glimpsed Mr. Russell across the stage.  He turned and looked at me and I knew then that it would be all right. Quickly, I turned away and picked up some costumes to take upstairs.  Rehearsals would begin the following week.