Scaring 'Em Straight or Preventing Tragedy With Theatre
Every year across our country, American teenagers attend
their high school proms. According to every teen movie ever made, prom night is
to be full of debauchery. Alcohol assisted antics are expected. Virginities are
to be forfeited. In short: it’s supposed to be a night to remember.
Yet all too
many American high-school students remember their proms for a different reason.
The mix of alcohol, drugs, and general teenage recklessness is a nasty
combination in reality and “according to the National
Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA), for the past several years
during prom weekend, approximately 300 teens have died in alcohol-related car
accidents.” The NHTSA goes further, saying, “one in three children under the
age of 21 who died in the alcohol-related accidents died during prom and
graduation season.” Even typing out this statistics, I’m a little shocked. (Statistics pulled from "Prom, Death and Sexual Assault" from the Huffington Post)
My high school, determined not to feed into these bleak
statistics, hosted a special “Think and Drive” event every year the week before
our prom. Classes were cancelled for the day and all of the students in the
high school (since we were such a small school Sophomores, Juniors, and Seniors
were all able to attend our prom otherwise there would only be around sixty
kids there) participated in what was essentially a series of game-like drunk
driving simulations. There was the beer-goggle video game where you attempted
to drive an arcade-style car while wearing goggles that impaired your vision in
the same way several beers might. We got into a semi to check out the blind
spots that the drivers have to deal with. There was a physical obstacle course
and, of course, several guest speakers who emphasized how quickly your life
could take a turn for the worst if you chose to get behind the wheel of the car
after drinking.
But my senior year our principle wanted to make even more
of an impact. The week before Think and Drive was supposed to take place, he
reached out to several of the acting students, myself included, and asked us to
be a part of a special simulation. This is what was to happen: after the
assembly featuring the guest speakers, the entire high school would exit the
theatre to find a crumpled up car in the parking lot and our bodies strewn
about as though we were victims of a car wreck. Then the paramedics would
arrive and evaluate and respond to the scene just as they would in a real
accident. I agreed, intrigued by the drama of it all.
The day of the simulation arrive and it was a cold
Colorado day. We got to the theatre early, spattered ourselves with fake blood,
headed outside, and gruesomely arranged ourselves on and around the wrecked
car. It started to snow lightly which only fed the bleakness of the scene. I
was shaking a bit, from cold and adrenaline and used it to feed my “acting” as
I cried out for help. We heard our classmates come out of the theatre. Some
people gasped, I think a few were crying. I didn’t have long to lie on the cold
ground, as I was one of the first to be loaded into the ambulance.
Afterwards, people were very upset. Something about
seeing their friends and classmates on the ground spoke to them in a way that
was more real than any video or beer goggles could ever hope to be. Being the small school that we were, there was no anonymity; each "victim" was recognizable. It was an interesting approach to
the idea of “scaring kids straight.”
Manifesto:
We must not stray from that which scares us, that which
is ugly, that which we don’t care to see or think about. We must look it directly
in the face and say to these things “I see you.” And in seeing them, we have the
power to confront them and to change them. The monster hiding under the bed
keeps us tethered to top of the mattress, unwilling to even dangle a toe over
the side for fear of being dragged into the underworld. Yet when we face the
monster and see that it is nothing more than a phantom created by our
imagination, we regain our freedom to roam around the room. In facing our fears
we gain understanding. And in gaining understanding we take back our power. Our
power provides us with the ability to choose our own path and in doing so, we
may shape the world around us.
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