When I announced to my parents that I wanted to study theatre at university, they set aside their disappointment that I wasn’t going into law, and settled for the idea I might become a famous actress. After a few years I came to the realization that the world didn’t need another mediocre white actress competing for the 20 or so good roles available. As part of my studies I was required to work backstage on a show, and was given the job of making props. It was a grad student’s production, an adaptation of Kafka’s The Trial, and the design concept was influenced by the surreal painters, especially Magritte. My first prop challenge was to suspend a green apple invisibly below a bowler hat. I could do that. And I realized that I could stay in my theatrical home by doing what very few people did: creating, finding, and re-creating the elements that illustrated the stage story. It didn’t matter how I looked, there were no limits on what I could learn to do, all I needed was the skill and creativity I knew I already had in my hands. And a few good tools.
I still have the hammer that my father gave me for Christmas after that revelation. I guess he figured it was the closest I was going to get to owning a gavel.