He had to promise his parents that he would still pretend to be their daughter. He believes he can play the role expected of him

August Greene passed the qualifying audition and was accepted into the coveted New York School of Performing Arts, educating outstanding actors. There is only one problem – he had to run away from his small town, from conservative parents who do not accept that he is a transgender person.

In order to stay with his aunt in New York, August had to promise his parents that he would not make the transition and would still pretend to be their daughter. Since he is a born actor, he believes he can play the role his parents expect of him while also playing laid back and confident in the company of his talented new friends.

But who does August really want to be when the ramp lights go out and the game is over? And what will he do when the roles he plays start to embarrass with reality?

The ebook ‘Act Cool’ is now available at Publio.pl HarperCollins Polska

Read an excerpt from the book “Act Cool”:

1:40 pm

The taxi ride to the theater disappointed me a lot. I wanted my first fare trip to New York to look like in the movies – with the chauffeur rushing daringly, yelling out the window, and the constant honking horn. None of this happened. We drove slowly in the hot vehicle, but the destination, Times Square, turned out to be heavenly. We passed electronic billboards stacked on top of each other like apartments in an apartment building. Anna played the role of the guide, and I pretended to be stunned by her knowledge of the city.

I get out while Anna pays the taxi driver and study the theater building. I can’t believe this is happening.

[…]

I’ve read a couple of articles about the reasons why Harvey Fierstein was cast in the Broadway show and John Travolta in the movie.

“Probably a matter of tradition,” I suggest.

– Tradition? Anna repeats with disgust. – What does that even mean? Mom should be played by a woman. – He shakes his head. – Okay, let’s move on. It’s a hot topic at school right now.

– John Travolta? – I ask jokingly.

– National team.

– I’m not following …

– It’s about proper representation in the theater. We need more women on stage, non-white people, disabled people, transgender people and non-binary people, ”she explains, giving me a meaningful look. – If there is a role of a marginalized character in a play, it is better not to cast a white guy in it, who later receives awards and praise for, and I quote, “courage”.

– Like Harvey Fierstein when he won a Tony Award for his portrayal of Edna?

– Among others.

– But isn’t acting just about being different from what you are?

August, acting now is about sticking to your line of business.

But I am transgender and I can play as girls and boys on stage. Is this not my plot anymore? There are few roles of trans people in theater. I want to ask her about it, but I’m afraid I’ll hear confirmation of my concerns.

[…]

“Make it out, August.” Why aren’t you answering your mom’s calls?

– I’ll talk to her later.

“Don’t panic, but Mr. Daniels has already told me that your parents aren’t thrilled that you’re trans.”

A hot blush spreads across my face. I didn’t think Aunt Lil would tell him.

– Well … – I’m considering how much to disclose. I have to stay in the role of the Innocent Virgin and not fall into the role of Teen Trans-Runner. “They are religious,” I explain.

“Oh…” he just says.

– Evangelical Church!

– I see.

I was never going to tell my parents that I was transgender. Alternatively, I allowed the option that I would send them a letter when I was eighteen and would live somewhere on my own, not with them anymore, but never before. The problem was that once I realized that I was trans, with each passing day I felt the desire to start a transition, to experience any changes. I couldn’t wait for many years with this. I wanted to tell my parents about it, I wanted them to finally know the truth about me. And I had to say it out loud.

It was the week before my fourteenth birthday. At the dining room table, my mother asked what I wanted for my birthday and I said:

“Actually … I want a gender reassignment.” I was born in the wrong body. I’m a boy. God made a mistake.

To which my mother replied:

– God never makes mistakes.

My stepfather was silent, and for my birthday I was given a new dress and told not to mention this “being a boy.” God had a reason for making me a girl. End period.

– Are you ready? Anna asks, handing me my first Broadway ticket.

[…]

I can feel him staring at me. He wants to see my reaction when I step into my first Broadway show. I want to overreact, but it’s easy because the place is truly magical. I look around with my mouth open. Endless rows of red armchairs. Three stories high red curtain. Balconies with more red armchairs. High above, a ceiling with fancy blue-white etchings to represent clouds. Two of the largest chandeliers I have ever seen. I look at Anna and she snaps another photo of me, saying:

– A kid at the first Broadway show.

Another ticket collector, wearing a beret, guides us to our seats. The theater gives the impression that it is old and preserved in its original condition, there is a musty smell of decayed carpets and popcorn. We find our armchairs and Anna guides us through the aisle. The seat next to me is empty and I hope it stays that way. Worn seats are too small and too tight. The outline of the Paris panorama is displayed on the curtain.

– Suddenly I felt like French fries – I joke.

“Oui, oui,” Anna says, then glances at her smartphone. – Five minutes to open the curtain. Are we back to the game of questions?

– Give me another one.

– Why did you choose acting?

– You want a short answer to the question why I made such a choice? – I ask incredulously. – Life’s choice?

“Just try it,” he urges me, clicking the program.

After coming out to my parents, things turned bad. I was lost and felt like a stranger in a body that existed more and more against me with growing breasts and rounding hips. The first year of high school was just starting, and I was walking in a thick cloud of general hopelessness.

Hugo, whom I had been friends with since the fourth grade of elementary school, knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. I was too afraid he would push me away. As my best friend, he came to me with a remedy for my sorrows. That’s what he put it: “a cure for your sorrows.” So he had the brilliant idea of ​​joining the school’s Theater Club. Cassie was going to join him, and Hugo was hoping to get her boyfriend role. He said it would be fun to pretend to be someone else, which sounded good, after all, that was what I wanted, and only this: to be someone else.

When we showed up for the first meeting, I was trying to be invisible, which, by the way, was my routine at West Grove High School. The teacher asked us to divide into small groups and play some scenes. I don’t remember much of it, but I know it felt good, as if I had suddenly found my place.

And when it was over, Hugo ran up to me and shouted:

– Man, you can really play!

I didn’t believe him because what did he know about it? But then the teacher came over and said the same.

After I joined the Theater Club, my situation at home improved as it turned out that I had been an actor playing the role of a girl all my life. My anxiety faded as it dawned on me that I didn’t have to BE A GIRL, but just PASSED her. In other words, I played the role of a daughter in front of my parents. Well, the world is supposed to be a stage. And it worked!

– August, why did you choose acting? Anna asks again.

I look into her eyes, smile and say straight from the bridge:

– Because it saved my life.

‘Act Cool’ cover by Tobly McSmith HarperCollins Polska

“Act Cool”, Tobly McSmith, translated by Janusz Maćczak, HarperCollins Polska 2022.