Episode 3: Reg Douglas

confident vulnerability & the healing powers of black joy

Reginald L. Douglas is a lot of things, all of them inspiring and exhausting-sounding to me, so the fact that he made time for OTFR was an honor. Currently, Reg lives in the District of Columbia (our 51st State!?) and works as the Associate Artistic Director of the highly regarded Studio Theatre, as well as directing plays at theaters all over the country, and teaching the next generation of audiences and theatre practitioners. It was a cold day in March during the darkest chapter of my adult life when Reg walked into a sun-drenched rehearsal hall on the Southside of Pittsburgh where I was running out of scenery to chew on. Reg exuded purpose, confidence, and calm. I was literally acting (and Molly Smith Metzler knows how to keep a bish MOVING in a play where your character only leaves the stage to smash a grill), so I couldn’t quietly and secretly observe his every move like I wanted to. But I felt the energy shift in the room. Reg sat smoothly into a folding chair, placed his bag under it, clasped his hands in his lap and leaned forward, eager to be carried away by us: game.

Later on, while I was teaching at both Point Park & Pitt, Reg was an invaluable colleague: offering feedback for my pre-professional students, championing their work, and supporting my initiatives as an educator which meant a lot to a green-ass newbie in a very pleased-with-itself Old Guard town. Reg was adored by students because he expected excellence, and created environments in which anyone could flourish. I remember wondering how long it would be before his natural ability to lead would have him packing for another town. It wasn’t long.

The world needs more people like Reg. We sat down to talk after last summer’s protests, in the wake of George Floyd’s murder, had ebbed. As the world watched, D.C. sat in the teeth of a bizarre new hostage scenario: democracy was being held for ransom. If you live your life as a performing artist or technical artist in the arts, then the Central Park Bird Watcher scandal from June likely holds even more weight. Not was it horrifying to learn that this woman had lied, threatened and ultimately called the police on an innocent black man, but to learn that she was a very successful theatre producer had sparked a massive response. Griffin Matthews, an actor and musical theatre-maker, who can be seen in the Flight Attendant and Dear White People, and who co-created the phenomenal musical Witness Uganda, released a personal statement video to social media that went viral almost immediately. I happened to be hiding from my children in a bathroom, doomscrolling within eight minutes of it’s being posted. I shared. I liked. I felt.

I felt a lot.

Because the realization of how many times I have been a Karen was…a lot. Heart-breaking, embarrassing, overwhelming - sure, all that shit. But that wasn’t the point. the point was not to get caught staring up my own ass looking at my past mistakes and anointing the rugs with White Woman’s Tears. The point was to do better, be better, and move forward.