Jig Saw Girl

I'm not sure why but, for some reason this year, during Father's Day, I found myself following the advertising.  Almost as if it were a cultural statement about how we, as a people, think of our dads.

So, for example, page idly through the weekly flyers from SEARS, Target, Kmart and other large chains and you find pictures of smiling dads standing with their happy kids next to barbecues, sporting goods and tools.

I found myself thinking, "What if I don't want a barbecue?"

Okay, so perhaps my hope that advertisements featuring dads smiling next to sketching pencils, french copper sauciers, and knitting yarn is a little naive.  Nevertheless, on this day that celebrates manhood like no other, apparently, as a man I should prefer barbecues.  Why?

SEARS says so?  Maybe...

I cannot believe that large corporations with marketing budgets for polling would be pushing products that their customers do not want to buy.  What, then, does this say about us as a people?

I am reminded of something I saw last fall.  I was directing a play at a local high school, and it was set construction day.  No one had ever used a jig saw, so (typical of me) I asked boys and girls alike whether they wanted to learn.  All the boys volunteered.  None of the girls did, save one.

This girl was quite possibly the gentlest soul of the company.  Moreover, high school students tend to talk about each other.  A lot.  And while I never heard anyone describe her using the word "fragile,"  I remember  a few conversations that seemed headed that way.  Clearly not the type you would expect to pick up a noisy, scary jig saw.

As for me, this was my third show working with her, director to actor, and I had long grown used to her inner toughness.  It was always there when she needed it most.  So, I wasn't surprised in the slightest when she volunteered to learn to operate a jig saw.

Of course, she handled it quite well.  Better than quite a few of the boys, as I recall.  And where was I?  Right next to her, holding the wood down so it didn't jump as she cut it, my fingers following along with the cut, about 2 to 3 inches from the noisily rasping blade.

(Honestly, is there a better way to show how much you trust someone to do well than that?)

At any rate, there we were, cutting out the arch to an entrance when I saw it happen.  All the senior boys, then the junior boys, one by one, put down whatever they were working on and, instead, began gathering around, watching this girl handle the jig saw.

Did they say anything?  No.  Were they proud of her?  I don't think so.  If anything, they looked like they were expecting her to chop off my hand.

Now, these are some of the hardest working dramatists I've ever known.  We achieved some extraordinary theatre working together.  Yet, from their expressions, I couldn't help but wonder if these boys hadn't been trained to find a girl successfully operating a jig saw an unwelcome thing in our world.

After all, haven't we all created such gilded cages for our loved ones, at some point or other, just to make us feel better?  When will we stop?

PS.  What happened to the jig saw girl?  She finished her job of cutting out the arch and, with a nervous smile of pride in her achievement, went on her way.