[In May 2002, Jack Warner, the director of teatro la fragua, received an award for "Excellence in the Arts" from The Theatre School of DePaul University, Chicago. One of the presentations in the awards ceremony was by a student, Tarell Alvin McCraney. His thoughts are definitely worth sharing with all the friends of teatro la fragua.]

As a sapling in kindergarten, young artists are torments to under paid over worked teachers. I know I was. I talked way too much-- old habits die hard.

But the fact is I was quite curious and hungry for knowledge of the unknown as all scientists and artists are.

But the difference is the 5-year-old scientist asked questions concerning the blue of the sky, the green of the grass.

I liked to dig holes, gaping holes deep in the playground and ask why people in China wouldn't talk back when I yelled hello!

I wanted to know why the Moon and the Sun didn't just battle it out over the sky and have one ruler forever: With a Mephistophelean laugh hahaha! My poor teacher, God knows where she is now, explained to me that the sun and the moon have decided to share the sky rather than rule totally.

But the Sun could be the Fidel Castro of the sky, I said, and then the Moon would come to the earth to seek political asylum and I would give her refuge.

Needless to say my young politically coated mind landed me in the corner quite often.

Where I would concoct more outlandish daydreams - another Mephistophelean laugh! Ha ha ha!

There is a point to all this reminiscing.

In these formative years of creative exploration, I was also taught a valid lesson: It was the years of Reganomics and Jesse Jackson was soon to run for President. Everywhere there were slogans like: "If you believe it you can achieve it", a cheesy slogan that was imbedded in my brain.

So I believed. I believed that The Boogey Monster was actually a friend of mine and together we would ride down the streets of Laredo cruising for trouble like Pony Boy and the other Outsider's. I believed that if you ate a Wonka gumstopper that you would get all fat and blueberry like that crazy white girl and the Umpa lompa's would come to take you away to be juiced.

But the older you get in the ghetto the harder it is to believe, in anything, besides the harsh cruel realities that began to snip at your heals, then work their way up to your heart.

I soon began to doubt notions. Doubt myself. Doubt becoming a theater artist even when I began my theater training in High School: Doubt 101 was still my first class of the day. The world had shown me that Black Men don't make it to College on art scholarships. I kept thinking maybe I should listen to my father, affectionately known as Big Steve who would say almost daily "Uh, Tarell, son you're what 10 feet tall why don't you play basketball and listen to R&B like the other normal boys." But instead I turned up my Tori Amos and re-read Titus Andronicus for the 15^th time.

There is a point to this, too. Promise!

My father informed me senior year of High School, "Tarell, well son I want you to go (to college) but I just don't have the money"-

Now most kids would have begged and pleaded. But I knew there was no point. The man could only do so much. He could only make so much less than the poverty level a year. He could only be so sorry about that so many times. I told him not to worry about it because I believed.

I believed in fairy tales and princes and wars fought over women named Helen. And though I know the hard truth about HIV and Drugs and abandonment and abuse first hand … I also saw the beauty in the savage garden in which I lived. So I kept hold to my theater dreams and a few good witches, some dwarfs, and an unselfish giant named The Theater School invited me to play in their garden here in Chicago and I became the first person on my mother's side to go to college. (Some cousin -- a jock -- on my dad's side beat me to it.) But this could not have been done by my own belief in art. It is because you sitting here today believed in art and it's power and it's spell and it's ability to lift a young man from a ruined life into one of nobility, of honor.

Now I wish I could proudly boast I was the only scholarship guy in the whole of the Theater School student buddy …ever.

But it is not true.

There are a great deal of stories just like mine, they make more sense and don't take five minutes to tell, but similar all the same. And all of those recipients past current and future want to thank you.

And we thank you for believing. We thank you for being brave enough to believe and encourage you to keep the faith in us and in art.

My favorite line from the Romulus Linney play "Holy Ghosts" is spoken by the Rev. Buckhorn to his congregation and he states, "you believed and I believed, and he was healed." I hold that to be a truth in my heart of hearts. If you believe and I believe, then we can slay the dragon of self doubt for more artists and wash the tears of disillusion into the blue of oblivion and fortify and heal gifted minds and genius hearts. We can heal. We can heal. And to that I say Thank you. Amen.

Tarell Alvin McCraney