The myth is, then, not necessarily false. It might happen to be wholly true. It may happen to be partly true. If it has affected human conduct a long time, it is almost certain to contain much that is profoundly and importantly true. What a myth never contains is the critical power to separate its truths from its errors. For that power comes only by realizing that no human opinion, whatever its supposed origin, is too exalted for the test of evidence, that every opinion is only somebody's opinion. And if you ask why the test of evidence is preferable to any other, there is no answer unless you are willing to use the test in order to test it.
--Walter Lippmann, in Public Opinion (123)
[W]hen we have a theory about who we are, and the data goes against that theory, we throw out the data rather than adjust the theory. We are hardwired as human beings not to contemplate our own complicity in things.
--Jeffrey Lockwood, in an interview with Tectonic Theater
The beginning of The Laramie Project starts with some of the stories we tell each other about who we are and what it means to live there:
REBECCA HILLIKER: There's so much space between people and towns here, so much time for reflection... You have an opportunity to be happy in your life here. I found that people here were nicer than in the Midwest, where I used to teach, because they were happy. They were happy that the sun was shining. And it shines a lot here... (7)I know these stories so well because they're mine too-- conservation, self-reflection and space... But then there's this odd moment in the middle of all this mythmaking when Seargeant Hing starts telling his story about Laramie:
SEARGEANT HING: It's a good place to live. Good people, lots of space. Now when the incident happened with that boy, a lot of press people came up here. And one time some of them followed me out to the crime scene. And, uh, well, it was a beautiful day, absolutely gorgeous day, real clear and crisp and the sky was that blue, that, uh... you know, you'll never be able to paint, it's just sky blue-- it's just gorgeous... (8)
I know what he means about the sky. That's why I used to love Maxfield Parrish's paintings when I was little-- because nobody else could quite get that barren, cobalt blue sky to turn out just right. But this moment for me was utterly surreal when I first saw the play-- the way that Hing's narrative of that "good place to live" with its blue sky, so blue you don't understand unless you've seen it, just sort of blends in perfectly with the Shepard tragedy. The one story has totally infiltrated the other. I had a sense of horror the first time I heard these lines, a horror only slightly lessened by my satisfaction at hearing the reporters called "stupid" just a moment later. It felt like our story had been hijacked. That's not who we are at all, I wanted to call out. That's not the way the story goes. I've moved beyond that first reaction to a more ambivalent stance. Hing couldn't tell his story about Matt Shepard without telling Tectonic who he was, so his myth of blue, blue skies and Shepard's murder site just run together. Anymore, that relationship goes both ways; you can't tell the story of Laramie anymore, it seems, without Matthew being a part of it:
JEDEDIAH SCHULTZ: If you would have asked me before, I would have told you Laramie is a beautiful town, secluded enough that you can have your own identity... a town with a strong sense of community-- everyone knows everyone... Now, after Matthew, I would say that Laramie is a town defined by an accident, a crime. We've become Waco, we've become Jasper...(9)What I'm contemplating right now is this: how easy is it for your myths to change? And when should they have to?
