An Open Letter to John Cariani

Dear Mr. Cariani,

If at any point you decide this letter is irrelevant or too lengthy or overly pretentious for a high school senior involved in the arts, you can stop reading at any time. I’ll never know, and if I were to find out for some reason, I would not be offended. To each their own. My name is Kelly Schwantes. I am a senior at Lake Zurich High School in the suburbs of Chicago. And I’m here to tell you a little bit about my life, and how you’ve unknowingly been a big part of it.

Three years ago, I entered the performing arts program at my high school as a freshman.I had heard many rumors from older friends that the arts were serious and competitive at the high school compared to what I was used to. I’d gotten over my nerves of auditioning for my f`irst fall play very quickly; I thought I was some hotshot or whatever. And then your play landed in my lap. Almost, Maine will forever hold a special place in my heart. In my school, it is rare to be cast in the fall production as a freshman, let alone as a girl, but there I was, all by myself, trying to make new friends while being thrown head first into a mentally demanding production into a totally new environment and a totally new directing style. I was cast as Glory, which was an initial struggle for me because I had yet to have my first kiss, let alone the fact that I had never been widowed. Upon auditioning, I didn’t really know a whole lot about the show, so this came as a complete shock to me. Naturally, I was afraid, nervous, and embarrassed, but I was overall disappointed because I would never get to have that first-kiss experience, where you got swept off your feet in a moment of bravery and passion. That was really mushy, but you know what I mean. You were 14 once too, right? Luckily, my friends were supportive and proud of me, that I “sacrificed my first kiss to theatre.” Yeah, kind of dramatic. Their words, not mine. In the end, yeah, it was awkward, but this production and that experience were key in defining my appreciation for the arts.

Fast forward three years, we have a new director at my school, and he mentions something to me about a new work by John Cariani, a play called Love/Sick. It took me a moment, but then it hit me. Almost, Maine. The irony. My acting career in high school had poetically come full circle. I was beyond ready to audition for this work. I prepared more than I had with your previous play. I attended two read throughs, worked on it in my black box class, and grilled all of my peers about their scenes and read throughs and auditions. This year, I’m my thespian troupe drama club president, so I’ve been making it a key point to become involved with everyone in every stage of their craft, from freshman to newcomers to seasoned veterans. The process of preparing for this audition was quite unique for me. At the time, I was dating a marvelous gentlemen and a dedicated performer. We have known each other for seven years, been dating for a year, and went in to audition with each other and blew everyone away with our chemistry. I know, probably more than you wanted to know. But I told you you could stop reading at any time. Charisma and practice paid off, for the both of us. My boyfriend and I were cast as Jake and Emily in your latest masterpiece. I have never been more proud him, for his dedication and talent, and of course I was excited to work with him closely on our final performance together, potentially forever.

The rehearsal process of one of your works meant so much more to me the second time around, for two reasons: the appreciation and the people. Now that I had a better understanding of how your works are designed, Love/Sick was a breeze. Your writing is so witty, intelligently structured, intriguing on every aspect, open to so much interpretation on every front, poignant, and real. At least, that’s my opinion. You always kept our cast thinking about news avenues to take in each of our scenes, and we often got into debates about the true theme or meaning of your work. We had an hour long discussion about what each of us wanted in a partner. Not our characters, us. It was neat to watch versions of myself from three years ago in my cast mates as they discovered all the nooks and crannies you left in your dialogues. I learned so much about my castmates. Ah, my cast mates. Love/Sick was perfect for the 18 of us. I was watching my peers grow before my eyes in rehearsals. Man and Woman were polar opposites, but with their cooperation, their scene blossomed. Louise gained confidence in herself and her acting abilities, and this was the first ever show for our Singing Telegram Man. He had the time of his LIFE playing this role! Ben was a freshman, and I saw so much of my three-years-ago self in him. Andy was always combing over the fine details to improve his work tenfold. I’ve known our Keith for a long time, and this was the perfect opportunity for him to shine, especially beside our Celia. Bill was dopey and Sarah was purely psychotic...I could not possibly imagine a better pair! Kelly and Mark both faced personal adversity in the course of this production, but overcame it with grace and professionalism, and ended with a polished final product. Jill ended up becoming one of my best friends, and we influenced each other’s work so much. Kevin is impossible for me to describe-he’s kind, funny, talented, and a joy to have at rehearsals. Liz and Abby were polar opposites too, both from each other and from their respective characters, but they created one of the most gut wrenching scenes. I am proud of all of them, and I cannot wait to see where they steer themselves throughout life. I wish you could meet every single one of them.

And then we have Jake and Emily. As I mentioned, when this rehearsal process started, I was dating our Jake. I’ll avoid the nitty-gritty, but I found myself questioning the security of our relationship as we were going into this. When the cast list came out, my first thought was not “excited,” as I said before, but I didn’t want to give too much away. I was nervous and anxious. And that is never a good sign when you have the chance to do something you love with someone you love. We got two rehearsals under our belts, one read through in which we discussed our serious feelings about love with our cast mates. I could feel all eyes on us as we each gave our answers. I don’t remember what mine was, but I know it wasn’t what I had in my current relationship. These feelings of dread and anxiety carried over from the summer into the school year into what could potentially be the pinnacle of my high school acting career. It’s safe to say I didn’t want to ruin it. I would come home from school two days in a row, crying for two hours and stressing over every little detail about my truly amazing significant other, before I realized what I had to do. After a year with one of the most courteous, fun-loving, gentle, serious, dedicated, talented, realistic, handsome, and loving men I have ever met, I let him go.

But my life could not stop, fortunately or unfortunately. We had rehearsal three days later. Yes, it was awkward as hell. Yes, it spread around the department like wildfire. Yes, I had to kiss someone who was likely to be furious with me throughout the run. Yes, I refused to let anyone tell my director. Yes. Yes. Yes. But you know what? I did it. I spent every day for the next six weeks spending time with my ex boyfriend. I was so foolish to think my anxiety about our relationship, or even our struggling friendship, or life in general, would subside. I find my emotional releases through acting and building those types of relationships with people, but now I was being forced to share these feelings with someone who didn’t want to hear them anymore. I often found myself thinking about the show as a whole, and how it reflected vividly on my life. Granted, I’m only 17, and I have a feeling there are many more mistakes in my future, but it’s kind of hard not to find my situation ironic. Separated lovers, wanting to rekindle an old flame, living their own lives after they’ve parted, surrounded by both hatred and love...for crying out loud, the name of his ex girlfriend from before we started dating is Jennifer. Not your fault. I loved it. I relished in the irony. And each day for six weeks I would flow between the ironies. Impulse, brutal breakups, lost “I love yous”, questions, boredom, regret, and self-doubt were oscillating around me every day. It was like looking in a mirror. However, I grew accustomed to it. It became the norm wherever I went.

And that's really why I wrote you this letter. I wrote this letter to tell you that your work really does affect people. Not just the artists, either. My closest friends had unwavering support for me during this awkward and emotionally taxing run, and I was so happy to see their smiling faces at the end of each night. Some of them even came to all of my shows. I don’t think I would have made it through without them at times. Life Lesson #724: Artists having friends who are not involved in the arts will keep the artists sane. Family members, teachers, peers I haven’t seen since middle school, and complete strangers all shared different experiences with me that they’ve had that were parallelled in Love/Sick. In Illinois, we have a high school theatre festival that welcomes the opportunity for shows to be performed from all over the state at Univeristy of Illinois. Our director asked IHSTF committee members to come and review our show for submission. The feedback we got was invaluable, but the emotional responses we got were immeasurable. In essence, the committee told us we did our job: solicit and emotional reaction of some kind from any one person. Connecting with audiences was a complete joy, all because of you. This letter is meant to thank you for bringing your insights and your talents and your empathy to the stage. So...thank you.

I also thank you if you’ve read this far. I don’t know how much fan mail you get, or if you’ll ever even receive this letter, because I had to scour the internet to find out how. At least I know I’m proud of this letter. If there’s any way I could graciously ask for a small response from you, this is me asking. There’s so much more I wish I could tell you, but it ebbed between “too personal” and “how the heck do I explain how much I learned from xyz to this guy?” We closed our show five days ago. It’s strange to think that, even though we’ve been broken up for six weeks, I may never get to kiss him again. It makes me a little sad. I’m trying to learn new ways to cope with civilian life...until our next show in February. Or until we pick up Love/Sick rehearsals in December. Our production should hear a result about our IHSTF status in the next two days. I wish there was a way I could let you know. I’d like to think you’d like to know where we stand. You seem like a nice enough guy. I also want you to know that, while my Jake and I haven’t only seen sunny skies, I think the stormy days are numbered, whether that’s because we’re healing, or because we’re drifting apart. Either way, I can’t help but think it has something to do with destiny.

Yours, with the greatest influence and admiration,

Kelly Schwantes

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I wrote this letter on November 18, 2016, and I have not changed a single thing. I don't know why I am deciding to publish this now, and I hope it doesn't come back to bite me in the butt, but please enjoy.