DramaLit Blog 1.0: BU School of Theatre

Oh boy… This blog post comes from two puffy eyes, a mountain of tissues, mascara everywhere except my eyes, and an unholy amount of youtubeing. What was I doing, you ask? I will tell you. I was watching scores of “welcome home soldiers” videos on youtube. There is an entire genre of videos based on soldiers coming home to surprise their loved ones. More often than not, the surprised is either a daughter, wife, or sister.

The general premise of these videos is the soldier comes home early from deployment, or otherwise doesn’t tell said loved one about their return. Some are coming home for good, some only for a few days. But the loved one doesn’t know about their return, and is going about their daily life. A lot of the videos are of children at school, and the school/ teacher is in on the surprise. The videos involve a lot of tears. The moment the loved one sees the soldier, they fly into an embrace. It’s an incredible and unabashed display of love, relief, and hope.

And it’s addicting. I spent more than three hours watching these clips over and over and over. And yes, I was hysterically weeping the entire time. Why was I putting myself through this? Catharsis. I was experiencing the love along with the families. I was welcoming my dad home. (My father is not, and has never been a soldier. But for a few hours, I was almost fooled.) I was picking my daughter up for the first time in a year.

And for one of the first times in my life, I felt full catharsis. It wasn’t just the vague excitement and release from a particularly gruesome piece of theatre. (Like when I saw Blasted, by Sara Kane) It wasn’t just the tears I still shed every time I watch West Side Story. This catharsis had all that and more. Knowing that every moment I was watching had actually happened was overwhelming. It’s the catharsis and inspiration I feel when I first saw The Laramie Project. The acknowledgement that we humans are capable of enormity. That when we run and scream and cry and laugh, we can do it on an enormous scale, and still call it Realism. We live huge lives!

So, I’m not sure whether or not I recommend watching all these videos. I will start you off with this one, and if you want to spend the next three hours watching, good luck! But most importantly, I hope we can continue to acknowledge that when our life seems “dramatic”, it is also REAL.