Not a House but a Home

This is the building that does not contain the address we write on our informational card at the beginning of each school year, this is the building our parents do not own, in which we are forced to steadily follow under another’s rule, this is the building without the small toys of our brothers and sisters, so there is nothing to stumble upon when the lighting is dimmed and this is the building that does not nag, request nor have any expectations of us than to play the role of ourselves. Sitting on the corner of East Washington and Keller, nestled into a perfect square vicinity, is the Phoenix Theatre.

By a first glance the age of this building becomes apparent, evidence by the foundation of the wood structure that has shifted slightly more to the left each year, allowing weeds and gravel to emerge between the cement and deeply chipped side walls. The paint once labeled royal blue now looks to be a smoky, murky gray and contains millions of scuffmarks only inches apart to match the smashed in, trampled over, gum that now lies black. Random nails with different colored paper still stuck to the point hold the cardboard and wood that is plastered over the shattered windows and jammed doors. Foggy glass doors, smudged with fingerprints and dust act as an entrance, half covered with flyers and crammed between mounds of blue and silver duck tape, are an outsider’s only peak into the theatre.

The first impression of the phoenix to most adults is rather poor; looking merely at the outskirts of the tattered building gives an impression of a rundown community and carelessness. Bolts of bright colors spray painted in graffiti lettering or designs are seen as vandalism rather than artwork. Assumptions are made that this building has been “tagged” when in reality kids were invited to share their masterpiece. By the odd behavior and unique rules of the theatre, rumors have been told, stating drugs and violence are permitted in the area. Constant lies and assumptions have ultimately suffocated the dignity and faith of this building while granting a negative outlook. Cars of adults are rarely seen parked on the curbside of the theatre, as they may see it as an unsafe place to leave their processions. Slipping the minds of many, it is not always taken into consideration that this theatre is a non-profit organization and does not collect much funding. Rather than using the little money they receive for a gallon of new paint, the staff rather it be put into either the health clinic for the youth, equipment for music lessons or supplies for tutoring sessions.

With the beginning steps into the theater, a new chaotic world is taken on filled with teenagers. An overwhelming fragrance of spray paint mixed with stale clothing fills ones fragile lungs, while the taste of rustic wood fills the taste buds and adaptation of the eyes to the dull lighting takes place. In the day, orange laminate floors lead into the main room filled with screeching of trucks on the bottom of dozens of skateboards as they grind the everlasting radius of the four half pipes. Blurs of laughing, screaming and conversing of adolescent teenagers is continuous. Shinning lights and microphone checks, screaming in the ears of everyone present, are directed towards the stage as the curtains unveil a rehearsing band. An occasional cool breeze from the heavy door is packed into the hot, muggy, twice-recycled air in which is then crammed down the throat of the lead singer. The clinking of metal chairs as they slap open hitting the wooden floor coincides with creaking stairs and the shaking banister leading to the second story. At night, bands are hired and shows are preformed bringing in different crowds depending on the music genre. A theatre that was once known for fantastic opera is now a rock music venue over populated with hundreds of people dancing to the surrounding acoustics.

Whether it be mid day, or mid night, the Phoenix Theatre serves as a home for the youth. The comfort of sitting on an old, ripped, overstuffed couch, surrounded by adolescent peers is appealing to teenagers even if their guardians do not agree. A community center in which people of all ages, all ethnicities and all types are welcomed is taken for granted by the elder generation of our town. A small community of nearly fifty thousand is not a big enough playground to learn and grow in, the Phoenix Theatre is an attempt to accommodate the youth in a fun and safe way. Although it may not be a mansion, it is our shack, our home.

~Jacque