Lies My Family Told Tickets

As I sit in the audience of a theater performance, I am struck by the layers of storytelling that unfold on stage. The actors transport me to another world, weaving intricate tales filled with drama, laughter, and heartache. Yet, as much as these stories captivate me, there is another layer of storytelling at play: the lies my family told me.

Growing up, theater was a significant part of my life. My parents were avid theatergoers, and I found myself accompanying them to shows at a young age. However, there was always an element of deceit lurking in the background. My parents would often downplay the subject matter of a show or leave out critical details about the plot, so as not to scare me away. They lied not out of malice, but rather out of a desire to protect me from the harsh realities of the world.

At times, their deception backfired. I remember attending a production of "Les Misérables" when I was ten years old. My parents had assured me that it was a story about characters fighting for justice and redemption, without divulging the darker themes of poverty, war, and death that ran through the show. As I watched Fantine die and Jean Valjean grapple with his conscience, I felt a mix of confusion and betrayal. Why had my parents lied to me? Why did they think I couldn't handle the truth?

In hindsight, I can appreciate my parents' intentions. They wanted me to enjoy the artistry of the theater without being weighed down by heavy topics that might have overwhelmed me. And yet, their lies also prevented me from fully understanding and engaging with the shows I saw. It wasn't until I reached adolescence and started exploring theater on my own that I began to appreciate the complexity and nuance of the stories being told.

Now, as an adult, I find myself drawn to theater that embraces difficult themes and confronts uncomfortable truths. I want to grapple with the same questions that plagued me as a child: what does it mean to be human? What responsibilities do we have to ourselves and others? How can we find hope in the midst of darkness?

Theater has always been a space for storytelling, but it is also a space for honesty. By confronting lies – whether they are personal or societal – we can begin to unravel the layers of complexity that make us human. We can challenge our assumptions, broaden our perspectives, and learn from the voices of those who have been silenced.

So the next time I sit in the audience of a theater performance, I will be grateful not only for the stories being told, but also for the lies my family told me. For without them, I might not have discovered the power and importance of truth-telling in art and in life.