The Laramie Project explores Laramie, Wyoming, the mainstream impact and cultural implications the town underwent during and after Matthew Shepard, a 21-year-old openly gay college student, was beaten, tortured, and left to die on a fence. For all who I directed, some even LGBTQ+ students themselves, not one heard of the 1998 story that resurrected back into the media the issue of violence toward LGBTQ+ people since the Stonewall era. In this production, we empathized and connected with the real-life characters of this town, those who would act by “Live and let live,” and portrayed some who would reply to that phrase with “that’s all bullshit.” To create this conversation, one that discuss the human socialization of homophobia, Matthew’s murder, and even tragedies that happen today, I witnessed bystanders become allies, and LGBTQ individuals become warriors. My scene, the reenacting of the trail of Aaron McKinney, ends with a beautiful message by Matthew’s father. He says “I give you life in the memory of someone who no longer lives.” Dennis Shepard’s words, ones which allows McKinney life imprisonment rather than execution, hearting breaking and poignant, a message of compassion it represents deeply strikes me. His mercy toward the killer of his son empowers a movement to demonstrate goodness to all, even those who betray, batter, and bruise
The Laramie Project explores Laramie, Wyoming, the mainstream impact and cultural implications the town underwent during and after Matthew Shepard, a 21-year-old openly gay college student, was beaten, tortured, and left to die on a fence. For all who I directed, some even LGBTQ+ students themselves, not one heard of the 1998 story that resurrected back into the media the issue of violence toward LGBTQ+ people since the Stonewall era. In this production, we empathized and connected with the real-life characters of this town, those who would act by “Live and let live,” and portrayed some who would reply to that phrase with “that’s all bullshit.” To create this conversation, one that discuss the human socialization of homophobia, Matthew’s murder, and even tragedies that happen today, I witnessed bystanders become allies, and LGBTQ individuals become warriors. My scene, the reenacting of the trail of Aaron McKinney, ends with a beautiful message by Matthew’s father. He says “I give you life in the memory of someone who no longer lives.” Dennis Shepard’s words, ones which allows McKinney life imprisonment rather than execution, hearting breaking and poignant, a message of compassion it represents deeply strikes me. His mercy toward the killer of his son empowers a movement to demonstrate goodness to all, even those who betray, batter, and bruise