Sometimes, when I am feeling overwhelmed, I don’t manage bad news well, so when I saw the news that someone had broken into the Theatre Arts Admin Collective last night and made off with some of their equipment it felt like my heart was going to leap from my chest. From what Caroline wrote, she thinks it was an inside job; someone with an old set of keys, since there was no sign of a break-in. Equipment that had been hard earned, and used by many was taken. Equipment that is irreplaceable, financially and symbolically. The Theatre Arts Admin Collective runs on Caroline’s grit, and a piece of bubblegum and a strip of gaffer tape. Sies man.
Anyone who has worked there, or been nurtured there or even just gone there as refuge will know how tough it is. And yet, I do not think Caroline has ever turned anyone away. The Theatre Arts Admin Collective is like the church it lives in, only for theatre makers. So, I am sick to the stomach thinking about someone who shits where they live, because that’s what they have done. They have stolen from the very place that has supported and cared for them.
I don’t know how to help. I am writing because I am furious, disgusted and shocked. I also feel helpless. I write so that word gets out, and maybe, just maybe there will be a pang of guilt, and the stuff will be returned.