- . -
*>
'
EDITOR
Doug Kouma
OPINION
EDITOR
Anthony Nguyen
EDITORIAL
BOARD
Paula Lavigne
Joshua Gillin
Jessica Kennedy
Jeff Randall
Erin Gibson
Our
VIEW
Bedroom antics
Cast, audience handle
seem in appropriate way
There were no picketers at the Temple
Building last Friday.
No censors or defenders of the religious
right No outraged parenting groups or scads
of sign-wielding suppressors office speech.
Only a group of theateigoers who paid
money to watch a play.
And when thatplay—John Guare’s “Six
Degrees of Separation” — began, the audi
ence did not hold its collective breath in an
ticipation of a somewhat controversial nude
scene. The people simply watched the events
in the lives of Ouisa and Flan Kittredge as
they unfolded.
wnen tne scene in question tinaiiy oc
curred —a 30-second event in which a nude
man leaves the bedroom of the man he is stay
ing with—there were no horrified gasps or
disapproving murmurs. If anything, there was
laughter.
Not that the scene warranted laughter
exclusively. The man runs from the bedroom,
cursing and shouting, threatening the owners
whose apartment he has been staying in. The
sheer audacity of the act, however, is what is
intended.
The scene is then ovet and the play moves
on. So do the minds of the audience, as they
forgot about the stir NU Regent Robert Allen
of Hastings had made about the scene, which
Director Tice Miller had described as “very
important to the character and the story line.”
Of course, the question remains whether
the scene was in fact essential to the play’s
content, as it is only a brief shock in a well
written and engaging story. But regardless of
the scene’s necessity, both the audience and
the cast handled themselves well in dealing
with it.
Perhaps not so composed was Allen, who
repeatedly displayed his concern about
whether the nudity in the production was ap
propriate. Allen said he was worried some
students may be forced to attend die play
against their wishes for class credit, or that
some audience members would be unaware
of the play’s explicit content
uicK uurst, aean oi me couege oi r me
and Performing Arts, said last week that Allen
had nothing to woriy about Advertisements
distinctly portrayed the fact that harsh lan
guage and sexual situations were a part of
the play’s content, and no one under age 17
would be allowed into the Howell Theatre
without an adult With those precautions,
Durst said, Allen’s concerns should be lim
ited.
Durst was right.
The Howell filled up by show time, with
little — if any — propaganda denouncing
the play’s extensive use of explicit language
and sexual situations (with most of those deal
ing with homosexuality).
The students of the University of Ne
braska-Lincoln and the residents of Lincoln
as a whole did more last weekend than any
number ofpicketers or censors possibly could.
They showed that they could observe and
appreciate the points of view and actions of
many different people without showing scorn
in any way.
Hopefully, it is a trend that will continue.
Editorial Policy
Unsigned editorials an the opinions of the
Spring 1997 Daily Nebraskan. They do not
necessarily reflect the views of die Univer
sity of Nebraska-Lincoln, its employees, its
student body or the University of Nebraska
Board of Regents. A column is solely the
opinion of its author The Board of Regents
serves as publisher of the Daily Nebraskan;
policy is set by the Daily Nebraskan Edito
rial Board. The UNL Publications Board,
established by die regents, supervises die
production of the paper. According to policy
set by the regents, responsibility for the edi
torial content of the newspaper lies solely
in the hands of its student employees.
Letter Policy
The Daily Nebraskan welcomes brief let
ters to the editor and guest columns, but
does not guarantee their publication. Ihe
Daily Nebraskan retains the right to edit
or reject any material submitted. Sub
mitted material becomes the property of
the Drily Nebraskan and cannot be re
turned. Anonymous submissions will not
be published Those who submit letters
must identify themselves by name, year
in school, major and/or group affilia
tion, if any. Submit material to: Daily
Nebraskan, 34 Nebraska Union. 1400 R
St Lincoln, Neb. 68588-0448. K-mail:
letters (ajunlinfo.unl.edu.
• \
Mehs ling’s
VIEW
r ■ %
i . *=V. - iii . ^
t—
, "Th^Te \sr\o
//
Rape brings identity to <other person ’
JOSHUA GILLIN is a junior
news-editorial and English major
and a Daily Nebraskan associate
news editor.
A year ago this Friday, I met a
monster.
His name is not important; I
* didn’t even know it when I first met
him.
What mattered was what the
monster did to me, my life, and the
'people I love. i
You see, a year ago this Friday, I
met a woman whom I would grow to
care about very much. She is a
beautiful, vivacious creature; a
wonderful person who, when she
doesn’t dwell on the state of her life,
is an inspiration to me and all those
who care enough to lode deeply and
see her strength. r
.; A week after I met her, she was
raped by her next-door neighbor,
I was quick to learn about this,
and although she would not hear of
police involvement—a mixture of
doubt, fear and anger contributed to
that—I wanted him to pay. I could,
of course, do nothing.
A summer of hurt and rage and
confusion punctuated this last year
of my life, and I cast several doubts
cm my own feelings. I felt guilty and
enraged and depressed.
What could I do?
All the textbooks say I displayed
a typical response, but that’s no
excuse for me. I used to pride myself
on being able to keep calm and
rational at all times. Times change,
though.
Now, a year later, I am left
feeling empty and afraid. Afraid for
her. whom I haven't seen in months.
Afraid for my relatives, whom I do
not see for weeks at a time. Afraid
for my friends, whom I see every
day.
But — and this may sound
strange—I fear for those closest to
my female friends, be their boy
friends or fiances or husbands. In a
secret comer of my mind, I worry
for those who may have to experi
ence things similar to how I felt.
As I write this, a group of my
female co-workers stands chatting
and working. They are most likely
oblivious to the possibility that such
an attack may happen to them. Their
boyfriends orobablv are. as well.
That’s how life has to be; If you
were afraid of such horrible things
all the time, you probably would
never leave the house. For a short
time, though, that’s what my life
was like. I worried that the horrible
“thing” could get her again, that if I
left her alone for too long, die would
become completely unraveled.
Unfortunately, I was the one who
became unraveled.
I was thinking the other day that
my life has proceeded rather well
since then, following a path that has
generally taken me where I want to.
From what I hear, my friend has
gotten along well, too.
But in a comer of my mind the
fear lurks continuously. There are
issues and concerns I have now I did
not have a year ago, but I think I am
a better person because of them.
If only I could make those around
me understand the compassion I feel
now because of that dreadful
experience. Such pain and confusion
is something I would never widi on
«
Such pain and
confusion is
something I would
never wish on
anyone I know,
friend or foe.”
anyone I know, friend or foe.
There is something innately filthy
and discomforting about rape that
I’ll never be able to put my finger
on. Maybe it’s the fact that there are
few physical indications of its
occurrence. Maybe it’s because
rape’s such an embarrassing subject
to talk about. Maybe it’s because I
hear the stories of those it has
happened to and secretly heave a
sigh because it’s not someone I
know.
That’s not exactly true now,
though. For me, rape has a name
and a face and an address. So does
the rapist.
For me, rape is a beautiful girl I
once cared about very much. Rape is
a girl I still care about, and know
very well, but she is a shadow. She is
off on the horizon with a face I
know I recognize yet can’t distin
guish. She is a friend, and she is in
pain.
As for the rapist, he lives next
door to rape. He has a name and a
face and a home and a television set.
He is very much like any other man
I’ve ever met, except that he hurts
the girl I so dearly care about. Other
than that, he is as normal as any
man.
And that—not rape, I suppose
—is what scares me the most.
zj
