*Note this is a performance that is meant to be done by one actor. Within the performance the actor will play three different characters.
On May 24th, 2022 in Uvalde, Texas on the steps of Robb Elementary School the lives of so many people in that community and around this country were altered if not forever changed. One of the most tragic realities in America to date is that unfortunately mass shootings have become a part of our norm. They happen more than ever expected and one would question, is it ever going to stop? The three voices that are memorialized in this solo performance address the perspectives of three people who others would say are survivors. In some way, shape, or form, they lived through that day on May 24th. However, as they tell their stories we realize and come to terms with the idea that more times than not people who have survived these tragic experiences where they have either been present, or lost a loved one, that though they are here they do not actually fully survive. Told from the perspective of a child remembering their little sister as well as two mothers the hope in sharing this story is that we realize no matter how far removed we are from these tragic situations there are people who live within them every single day. Survivors, because they are still here with us, but because they have lost so much it is a difficult perspective to live within. *This performance may be altered to represent any gender identification of performer.
We Didn't Survive
(This is meant to be performed by either one actor but could be expanded to be performed by three different people. If cast as one person the actor will utilize simple costume and prop changes to create the other characters. Within the text they can be any gender, please adjust pronouns as needed for the performers. The stage is blank. A young girl stands center stage as the lights fade up. She looks up to see the audience, smiles, and waves, the innocence of a child.)
Girl:
(to audience)
Mom wakes me up every morning. She kisses me on my forehead because she said that is the safest way to wake me from my dreams.
I am in the 5th grade. I get ready for school on my own, pick my own clothes, shoes, do all that private stuff. Mom won’t let me iron my shirt like my dad does, she says I’ll “burn the house down.”
She cooks breakfast and it smells good but that’s how I know it’s almost time to go. (sniffing the air and guessing the menu)
Scrambled eggs and toast, apple juice with ice cubes for me. My little sister drinks milk and off we go. To school!
I’m the oldest and we walk three blocks then turn left to get to the school at Robb Elementary.
I love school.
My sister and I always hit the corner, then we run. (running in place) Butterflies wiz past us, her backpack, that weighs almost as much as she does, bounces on her back.
I laugh at her. (laughs) And like any really big sister, I let her win. She’s a kid, ya know?
She’s my little sister, I have to let her win.