The Inner Teen Raging Against the Machine
(And how we find solace in the theatre)
Hey, friend. If you’re reading this, it’s time to look at your inner teenager. The rage. The angst. The drama. The theatrics. The one who wants to be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned — or whatever Gerard Way said — even if the broken, beaten, and the damned is you, staying stuck in the cyclical pains of the past.
Every theatre person I know has a tumultuous relationship with their younger self. Their inner child is healing through dressing up and playing pretend. It’s cute and sweet when you’re a kid, dressed up as a tree in the background, singing along with the chorus. Everyone coos, “How sweet!” and tells you how wonderful you performed, and you smile, because you made your parents proud.
But the teenager? Ohhhh, boy.
Look at these militant, marching band emos, the ghosts of an age in the early aughts where every teenager had just about started puberty when they witnessed 3,000 people die on live TV. And this song, while about death and letting go, has a great message: that life, and art, and humanity marches on, and we have the chance to leave an impact on the world.
And we can dress up however we want. MCR was instrumental to my general development as a theatre kid and human, since all of their albums have themes and Gee himself was an actor as a kid, but that band, despite my love of them, is not the point of this blog.
The point is that theatre lives in everything we do, and often, it is driven by our inner teen.
As you age into theatre beyond the “Jr.” versions of Disney brand musicals, you realize that storytelling is so much more than just books or plays or movies. Children’s shows are wonderfully important in shaping who we are and how we view the world as we grow — because let’s be honest, who wants to deal with the darkness when there’s so much joy to be found in fairytales and magic?
But for me, I (like many others like me) saw that the world can be a very, very dark place. And it’s scary. But I found solace in theatre, which had a profound impact on how I developed empathy. It’s how we learn about other lifetimes, how we imagine new futures and new ideas, and how we get a glimpse into different cultures. We can directly sympathize with the inner workings of other people, for their struggles and successes, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Theatre puts you in the room with the elephant and asks you to face it head-on.
Sometimes it’s hard to face the elephant. I’m grateful for theatre for exposing me to the dark and allowing me a safe space to explore it within myself. And I’m grateful, especially, to this band in particular, because through their performative conceptual art, MCR told me to be it’s okay to be unashamed and to show my scars. And, of course, not to let the world take your heart.
Everyone has an inner teenager that wants to take inspired action against all that’s wrong in the universe. We all have a little bit of ‘save the world’ in us, and sometimes that part of you is always going to be seventeen and naive, angry but unsure how to move forward without guidance. Of course, our inner teenager has a lot of rage, knows everything, and wants to be in charge.
I’m grateful to have discovered theatre, because it became the guidance I needed to work with that inner teenager. Theatre and art have always had eerie ways of reflecting me back to myself, so I could learn how to love myself and be open and vulnerable so I could heal, grow, and transform. And truthfully, I still have a lot to heal, grow from, and transform.
If we must rage about all the Unfairness and Trauma of life, then let us rage through art.
“Look at this!” We scream toward the fourth wall. “This is happening! Is it good? Is it bad? What should we do? How should we feel? How can we change?”
The theatrics of the teenager are something we all carry with us into adulthood, whether we realize it or not. Artists often maintain that teenager-esque defiance against the Systems That Are and we make art to confront it.
But as we grow and change in this industry, as we explore empathy and work with others, it’s clearn to see that perhaps everyone is wearing a mask, exactly the way you are. This causes clashing personalities and unresolved problems that the theatre and entertainment industries are famous for, but we must acknowledge: everyone is doing this to try and heal themselves first. Then, and only then, can we form bonds of community and heal together.
At some point, I had to ask myself: What’s the point, of participating in this art form, if I’m not working to change myself? I’m want to figure out what I can do to show others how I’ve healed, so maybe they can heal, too. I want to share stories in a different light, so others can feel safe to share their own. I do theatre so I can learn from these stories, and be better.
Because I want the world to be better. But it starts with changing yourself first.
All of that is to say, let that inner teen take up space! Acknowledge the problem and face it head on. You’re allowed to be angry, and you’re allowed to want everything you want in the world. Let your teenage self scream into the void! Remember that the void is listening, and the void is you. Your own Black Parade is there and ready, willing, and waiting to walk you back home to yourself. The darkness will come to light, and the lightness will examine itself through the dark. Both are okay, and necessary for balance. Just breathe. Just be. Just SCREAM!
And in the meantime… we’ll carry on!