My Tribute to Wendy Wasserstein

By Charles Z. Alvarez

Charles is an alumus of TDF’s Open Doors program, which introduces high school students to the theater by theater professionals who are rich with knowledge of its craft and history. In partnership with TDF, playwright Wendy Wasserstein created the Open Doors program. On January 30, 2006, Wendy passed away at the age of 55 after a private battle with cancer. Arguably the most celebrated of American female playwrights, Wendy chronicled, with wit and wisdom, the struggles of the smart, savvy woman. Wendy was Charles’ Open Doors mentor.

About five years ago, I was given the opportunity to write a speech on my experience with Theatre Development Fund’s Open Doors program. During that time, I was a senior at Dewitt Clinton High School in The Bronx. I spoke of my neighborhood, my friends, my economic background, and, in a nutshell, my ignorance towards the theatre. The privilege of going to the theatre was much appreciated; but foremost in that experience was the opportunity I was given to meet an actual playwright, Ms. Wendy Wasserstein. I have to confess, at the time I had never heard of her. But not long after I came to admire her immeasurable talent, trumped only by the generosity of her spirit. Not only was she a mentor, but she was soon to be much more to me through my years ahead.

After every show we would have discussions about the play. I recall sitting after a couple of outings and realizing that Wendy would not say much. Instead, she would allow for brainstorming and then, later on, drop seed commentaries here and there. She believed in our ability to understand and create meaning with the malleability of the theatre. But what I remember most was that she took the time to speak to all of us, to understand why we thought a particular way. I once heard that talented individuals are not required to be great people, but Wendy was both.

I recall viewing her play, Old Money, and thinking to myself that she really understands the complexity and the layers of life. Not only could she pinpoint the decadence of society through words, but also added humor to everything. Through her art, it was almost as if she was injecting society with a dose of health and awareness, and making them laugh before they could even notice.

It is difficult to convey all my thoughts in a coherent manner, especially when they come from a very deep personal level. To be as candid as I can be, there was a time in my life where I had made the wrong decisions in school and with the success that I had built underneath me; it was taken away quicker than it took me to make it. As I told some friends at TDF about my experience, Wendy was the first to invite me to dinner to talk about what I had done. When no one else could help, Wendy was there in every possible way. Not only did she console me, she also fed me some advice and made me laugh while assuring me everything would be OK.

“I feel honored to say that she changed my life, but above all, I carry within me the memory of a friend who taught me how to laugh at serious matters and always look for the opportunity to succeed at what ever I felt fit.”

In retrospect, I realize she was not obligated to do anything for me, but did anyway. Her job was done the moment I graduated from Open Doors with a deeper understanding and appreciation for the theatre. I was just a kid from The Bronx; however, she didn’t peg me into that slot. She made me feel as if I was as important as she was.

It saddens me deeply that I was never able to reciprocate the same helping hand that Wendy Wasserstein extended to me. I feel honored to say that she changed my life, but above all, I carry within me the memory of a friend who taught me how to laugh at serious matters and always look for the opportunity to succeed at what ever I felt fit.

The other day, I watched a tribute about Wendy on the Charlie Rose show, which was a compilation of old interviews. It made me smile to see her witty and excited about her work. She wanted her audience to enjoy her plays, and most of all to react. So instead of mourning Wendy with a frown, I mourn her with a smile and think about how lucky we all were to have her with us. She once told me that I am a great speaker; however, I never told her she was a great teacher, until now. Thank you for being there, through theatre and through life.