We all deserve to create our own story and art
By Che Guerrero, Social Media Manager
You don’t know how good or bad you have it until you see how the other side lives. When I saw the other side, it left me speechless. As a teenager, I went to John Adams High School in Ozone Park, NY (It’s Queens for anyone thinking that I wasn’t a real New Yorker). My school was underfunded, but that wasn’t always the case. Once, when the majority of the student body was white. John Adams had an amazing journalism and theater program, fostering some future Golden Globe and Pulitzer Prize winners.
The trajectory of the school changed around the 1970s when more people of color started to move into the area, and the white people moved out; a phenomenon known as “white flight.” Something I learned later on is that when white people leave an area, they also take their money with them. So after white people left Ozone Park, John Adams High School went from being one of the top schools in NYC to one of the worst, which is when I inherited it.
I never knew of John Adams’ glory days. I only knew its worst ones. During my tenure there, we only had a standard curriculum that taught kids of color how to remember information to pass the state’s standardized exams but nothing that fed their imagination.
Except for one year. For some reason, John Adams decided to hire an acting teacher to help us put on plays. I give the teacher credit. She tried her best with the limited resources she had.
The teacher decided to put on the play Grease. The one and only night my school put on Grease, I decided to go see it, and it was a bigger disaster than I anticipated. There were no props on stage, kids forgot their lines for most of the play, and the costumes were just clothing the kids brought from home. I watched that and thought, “Wow, I feel bad for any kid trying to get into a theater program in high school because they suck!” I thought all theater programs were like John Adams until I went to West Aurora High School in Aurora, Illinois for my senior year.
When West Aurora announced that they were doing the play Cats, I wanted to see their disaster firsthand. I got my ticket, went to the auditorium, and waited for the shit show to start. As soon as the lights dimmed and the curtains rose, I knew that something was wrong.
The stage was decorated to look like an alley where cats would roam. The lights followed the characters around perfectly and changed with the music for emphasis. And the costumes… were amazing! Every student looked like an actual cat. I was mesmerized. I don’t even remember if I got up for intermission. What I do remember is being left speechless. I stepped outside after the show, I started crying … and could not stop.
I couldn’t put into words at that moment what was wrong, but I remember asking myself, “Why did those kids get a Broadway-level budget? Meanwhile, my friends had to put on a crappy show with their own clothes?!” I needed to find out.
I quickly learned that schools are funded by property taxes and that places like the one I grew up in lost a lot of their funding after the neighborhood changed. This wasn’t an accident; this was on purpose. It’s a way to keep kids of color, kids who look like me, away from these arts programs. To keep us in a state of constant devaluing, so we don’t think we are worth much.
As a child, I always loved the idea of performing, but I didn’t think it was possible for me because it never felt accessible. Fortunately, I got to see that that was a lie. After seeing what white schools had to offer its students, I decided to find my own path toward the arts. After I graduated, I moved back to NYC and started stand-up comedy. I then moved on to improv and storytelling. I have made a life and career out of using my voice to share my unique experience with the world. I also now use my skills to teach other kids in similar situations how they can create their own art. Because we all deserve to create our own story and art regardless of what zip code we come from or what we look like.
Join Che for a new season of stories
We are thrilled that Che has agreed to host our new season of stories, Keeping it real! Join Che as he keeps things light and fun. Our scorekeeper, comic Lamarr Todd, a mystery guest judges, and an audience judge help score the stories and give our storytellers helpful hints to improve their tales. The winner takes home $100 and bragging rights until next month.
How a First Person Arts StorySlam works
First Person Arts StorySlams are like open mics for people who love stories. We provide a theme, and you provide a 100% true, personal story. You’ve got 5 minutes on stage to entertain the “most engaged audience in Philly.” No notes or props allowed.
Want to create your own story and art?
Already got an idea brewing and want a guaranteed spot on stage? Awesome! We choose 4 lucky storytellers a week before the show for a guaranteed spot to compete. Send us your story pitch to stories@firstpersonarts.org.
