I don’t remember much of my grade school experiences. And remember even less of my classmates. Thankfully, social media has been a Godsend in allowing me and most of the world to peruse and peek into the filtered lives of those we call “friends.” On this particular evening I took a break from my regular viewing of TikTok feline films and GRWM reels and browsed the hallmark of social media, Facebook. I usually don’t recognize or recall how I know a “friend” but on this evening my memory was vivid. My former classmate and textile maven shared her larger than life rendition of the Ghanaian Flag and invited the world to see it in person. Well as they say, don’t threaten me with a good time! After checking my schedule and realizing the viewing dates were during my self-care week, I immediately purchased my 4th row, center Orchestra seat, Yep I’m fancy! The artwork was featured as part of the School Girls production at The Rep. Now, normally I do research on activities or plays. But this time, I decided to use my gut instinct and trust my classmate’s endorsement.
I didn’t expect much of a crowd on a Wednesday night, but to my surprise the crowd was ample. The diversity of the crowd was minimal. The stars aligned and not only was my classmate present, our seats were beside each other. We briefly chatted before the lights dimmed and then in an instant, the show began.
The set was simple but detailed. The story takes place in its entirety in the 1986 cafeteria of an all-girls grade school in Ghana. The texture and colors of the walls were bright enough to evoke cultural accuracy yet distressed perfectly for that cafeteria realism. The lavender costumes were typical school uniforms of high neck, short sleeve dresses with below the knee full skirts. There were no elaborate wigs or makeup but this was not expected when portraying female students in the 80’s; a definite juxtaposition to the current stylings of today’s highschoolers.
As each ‘girl’ was introduced I had flashbacks of my trip to the Republic of the Gambia and visiting a grade school. The excitement of the children was infectious as they greeted us in their matching bright blue uniforms and ran towards us for hugs and hellos. As I stated before I did no research on the plot of the play, and assumed it would detail the lives of high school girls and of course someone would have to take the title of mean girl as the name suggests. The all black-female cast was an ode to and celebration of Women’s History Month and my heart was full to see a group of beautiful black women doing what they love.
I enjoy movies and sitcoms like most people, but what I really love is the character development. For example, Insecure and Schitt’s Creek. These shows were successful because the writers made the characters entertaining and relatable but the actors made them believable. The School Girls characters varied in personality, background, and voice, but they were united in their social caste. On the surface School Girls is a coming-of-age story as female students navigate balancing popularity, self-esteem, and friendships. However, I was overwhelmed to find themes of race, colorism, xenophobia, self-respect, equality, forgiveness, generational trauma and familial shame.
These topics were woven throughout the dialogue and interplay as the official mean girl fought to keep her station and Head Mistress battled her dastardly rival. The audience admired the teenager’s playfulness as they gushed over makeup, fashion, and celebrity crushes. And just as quickly as a teenage girl can change her mind, the audience gasped in dismay at the malicious outbursts of, “You fat cow,” and “Fucking Bitch.”
Perhaps it was watching the characters eyes turn red and fill with tears, because as a self-proclaimed -part time empath, I felt what they felt. The joy of a sisterhood, duty to keep a family secret, and the sadness and yearning from desperately wanting to fit in. The cast gave their all in fully identifying and emotionally connecting with their characters. But eh, eh, there were times when the natural American accents crept out from underneath the feigned African intonation.
In only 90 minutes with no intermission, a timeframe appropriate for the growing short attention spans, School Girls; Or, The African Mean Girls covered an array of polarizing subjects. I’m a sucker for a happy ending. However, the finale had me perplexed. I was actually still seated waiting for the continuation of the story when I noticed patrons standing in applause. I was taken aback to find the writer concluded with reality instead of the preferred fairy tale of happily ever after. I exited the theatre still in shock and wishing that art did not imitate life.
If you’re looking for a fast paced, interactive, sensory overloaded production, this is not it. But if you enjoy modest and meaningful productions that satisfy the soul and lead to deeper conversations about what it means to be Black, I highly recommend it. And while you’re there take full advantage of the artistic textiles of Crystal C. Mercer. My favorite was “Legacy Intro.”
