Last Sunday, we abolished the Constitution, but more about that later.
What the Constitution Means to Me is sort of a one-person show, but it isn't, really. The initial framework is a series of debates sponsored by the American Legion where young people debated in front of veteran's groups for cash prizes. Playwright Heidi Scheck performed in these debates as a kid, and used the prize money to go to college (state school, thirty years ago). As a result, she developed a deep love with the Constitution, but in the years since realized that it wasn't the the great document that she thought it was, particularly when it dealt with people who were not male, Caucasian, hetero, and land-holding. In this way it is similar to the previous Where We Belong which featured a woman who loved Shakespeare, but realized that the Bard did not love her, or her heritage, back.
But the Legionnaire's debate is just a framework. Cassie Beck as Heidi soon expands the argument into a deep examination of her own life and the lives of her maternal ancestors. And she comes up with the conclusion that the Constitution is not the protective document of equality that we need it to be. She returns to the debate repeatedly to use it as a jumping off point for other stories from her family's history, and makes the case about the failures of this document over history. Gabriel Marin is the Legionnaire moderator who is supposed to keep the debate on track, but is eventually relegated to muteness by Heidi's experience.
And then the discussion changes. Heidi discards her young persona and speaks as a grown woman, then the actress Beck steps outside the role of Heidi to talk about hers. Then Marin steps out of his role as the moderator to discuss his own experiences. Then we bring Mara Gonzalez Moral, a local high school student, out to debate whether the Constitution itself should be abolished (The debate was excellent, by the way - I never want to get into an argument with Mara Gonzalez Moral). Then a member of the audience was chosen to vote on who won (Abolish, argued by Ms. Moral, carried the day).
The performances were top-notch, and Beck carries the brunt of the play as Heidi. Marin shines when he steps out of character. Ms. Moral is incredibly sharp and light on her rhetorical feet. The set design is imposing, immobile, and very, very male - the interior of an American Legion hall, the walls lined with the imposing photos of white (overwhelmingly), men (almost exclusively) in uniform.
So what does the Constitution mean to me? Its not a melting pot or a quilt. Because I view things from my standing as a designer. It is an operating system, and the Bill of Rights is the day one patch. The additional amendments are ongoing updates, which remove exploits (Yeah, black people are people, not property) and nerf bad ideas (I'm looking at you, three-fifths compromise). The performance touches on Jefferson's quote that the Constitution should be rewritten every twenty years, I say that with amendments we can engage in continual updates and improvement without that timetable. We have a solid foundation, we just need to expand on it, and to interpret it to the advantage of all citizens. So I would have voted Keep (but the Abolish arguments were pretty solid).
And here's the thing - we CAN make it worse. Let's go back to "originalist" thinking and restrict the franchise to those who originally held it - not just white, but Northern European White (maybe French, and sure let the Nordic provinces in). Various shades of Protestant. Definitely male. And they have to own property. Renters? Right out. Have a mortgage? Sorry, you don't really own your land - the bank owns it. In fact, the bank gets to vote on your behalf. Corporations are people as far as free speech? They get your vote instead. We can even dress it up like corporate shareholder meetings - you get to vote, but everyone who does not vote has their votes decided by the Board of Directors. Now that paves the way to a cyberpunk universe.
So, back to the play itself. Not your standard play, nor a true one-person monologue. Deeply personal on many levels. Well-done and harrowing in places. Extremely well done. Worth the Sunday afternoon.
More later,
