I have now seen The Bluest Eye about five times. My experience as an audience member ranges from rehearsal, to opening night, to school performances. Each time I am moved in new and different ways. Often I am a little teary eyed at the ending. I remember specifically the post-show discussion you are talking about where the young man told the story of how his family had taken people in who had been “put out”. When he had finished telling his story the rest of his classmates, and others in the audience, started clapping in recognition. This display of support and community hit me hard. And I started to really tear up. What moved me most was how the piece connected personally with this unique audience of young people, and how it brought them together in community.

And it brought me back to my own childhood memories. My good friend Megan grew up under the disease of cerebral palsy. I can remember being on the playground in second grade and wanting to protect her from the snickers of little boys. I yelled at them and told them I was going to tell our teacher they were being bad. In my young mind, I loved Megan and I wanted save her from their taunts. And what I remember most vividly is that Megan grew angry with me. She told me, very eloquently for a second grader, that it was not my job to save her. It was my job just to be her friend. At the time I was very upset and cried to my teacher. But now looking back, I can’t help but think how beautiful Megan’s idea about love was. She just wanted me to be there for her, to just be her friend. My memory of Megan brings me back to The Bluest Eye. Pecola did not need the validation of Frieda and Claudia’s attack on Maureen Peal, as much as she just needed the attention and love they gave her daily. I continue to be grappled with this nature of friendship. And I continue to be moved by the production. I am thankful to be witness to the power of this play on so many lives, including my own.