Identity
By Nick LinnehanMike is a young gay man, struggling with being different. In addition to being gay, he is also affected by Cerebral Palsy, and he is disarthryic. His speech is minimally affected, but is noticeable. Some of his words should be slurred or run together. It is minimal and doesn't have a specific affectation, yet it should be present. The monologue below opens the play.
MIKE
Some people see shrinks to help them deal with neurosis, low self-esteem or silly mothers, but my "situation", my life, if you wanna call it that, is something that not even a shrink could handle. Some people go to therapy to work out their stuff. I can't do that. I'm different. And my problems are different. So I don't do therapy. I write plays. I write plays to fix myself.
My name is... hhmmm...why don't you just call me Mike for now?
The first play I wrote was about my experience of the first time I fell in love. I wrote it as a way to get through my experience. I guess it worked... because I got through, I'm still here. Sort of.
Now, tonight's play is a little different than my other plays. I'm actually in this play. This is really me. Or at least, I think it is. And the words I'm speaking now, are real. I didn't write this, right now - these words. I'm just making this up now. I didn't rehearse this. I have written and rehearsed these scenes you are about to see, and I'm hoping that my narration, my extemporaneous dialogue with you tonight, can help me put this all together... before I completely fall apart.
I'm warning you now, there may not be a proper ending... or maybe there will be...
I need your help, your understanding of what it is to be me. What it means to be...
You see, I'm different. I'm different than you.
And deep down inside, I guess I'm praying I'm really not.
This monologue follows the scene in which Mike tells his mother that he is gay. He has not told his father yet, because he fears his father's reaction.
MIKE
I always knew I was different. Even when I was younger and Dad would take me to the softball games. When I got a little older, I caught myself staring more and more. You remember Carlton? God didn't he have the nicest...? I used to stare at him, wondering what it would be like to touch him. Then when I saw him kiss Dianne, I got this new feeling of jealousy, despair, and envy all rolled into one. I started to shy away from Dad and the guys on the team. But that only made me more lonely. So I decided that I would try to play JV Ball. I thought if I did what straight guys did, I would turn straight, right? And Dad always wanted a jock... so this would kill two birds with one stone. For three months, I practiced with Dad every day, trying to physically beat this demon out of me. I ran harder, worked harder, concentrated more. But not only did I realize that I wasn't good enough, but this physical penance taught me that I was different. It's not easy to turn straight when you go into locker rooms and see all these half naked boys. I prayed and prayed that God would take this curse away from me. But instead God brought me Jack.
In this monologue, Mike addresses his therapist, who has a theory about a way to alter a person's identity. Mike has latched onto this idea, and is convinced that the therapist can help him escape who he is.
MIKE
I want you to do this procedure. I want a life where my identity doesn't fuck everything up. Do you know what it's like to be a gay disabled Catholic? Sure I joke about it. But it's a nightmare. I have to pretend to stu-stu- stutter on the train to get the disabled rate, which I'm entitled to. But because I don't look disabled, I have to pretend to have a visible handicap. Are you hearing me, Doc? And being gay and Catholic - well boy, there lies a thousand inherent contradictions in that. I don't wanna feel guilty for having sexual desires. And I don't wanna feel like shit because I can't say that having sex with men is wrong. It's hard enough to date and find a good guy when you only have 10% to choose from, and then throw a disability in there and you've just sentenced yourself to a life of masturbation and meaningless hook-ups. I am not beautiful and perfect - which if you wanna have a boyfriend is not just preferred, but required. And then you can't even turn to God, because you're not sure that you should be feeling these things in the first place. And now you, who made me feel special - you're shutting me off. And like everything else it's because we're trapped in a box called identity. It's never enough to just be gay or disabled or a doctor. No, these labels - ID tags - try to dictate how we eat, shit, talk, and even make love like the way you made love to me. They run our lives. But I'm done with it. I wanna have this procedure and you're gonna do it. You got me Doc?
These monologues are from Identity by Nick Linnehan. If you would like to read the entire play, you can purchase an electronic (PDF) copy of the script for $5 through PayPal. After your order has been received, the play will be sent to you as an attachment. Hard copies are not currently available.
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