How Celena Cox is redefining the stage — with empathy and boundaries

Celena Cox found her calling while working for a youth performing arts academy in Charlottesville, Virginia, in 2017 — the same time and place where a white nationalist rally came to town, chanting messages of hate and provoking weeks of local unrest.

Some of the kids Cox was directing in a performance of “The Lion King” were deeply upset by the rally and the aftermath, made worse by the fact that the production has a death scene.

Here’s what Cox did: “I went to work.”

That work involved learning about trauma and helping the young actors through it, and it led to Cox now doing the same job for all ages at the Albuquerque Little Theatre.

Cox’s title for the job she started last December is education program supervisor, but she also has taken on the role of “intimacy specialist.” She is called on as needed to help actors prepare for sensitive scenes, especially when there hadn’t been detailed disclosure about scripted intimacy beforehand.

“I talk to them (performers) about what they’re comfortable with, what they’re not comfortable with, what their concerns are,” Cox says. “And then I communicate that to the director … and work to get us to the director’s vision while respecting actors’ boundaries.”

Cox, an opera singer, director and musical aficionado, will oversee education programs, including classes and summer camps, for the 95-year-old theater near Old Town.

“Every student who takes a theater class is getting lessons in social-emotional learning, public speaking, literary analysis and so much more that can be used in every area of their life now and in the future,” Cox says.

Please give me an example of how the intimacy specialist position works.

We just did “Streetcar” (“A Streetcar Named Desire”), which has a rape scene in it. And of course with the statistics around people … who’ve experienced sexual assault, there was going to be at least one person in the cast who had direct experience with this topic. I can’t fix their trauma, obviously, but we can take every step possible to not re-traumatize them. It’s always been amazing to me how much just doing a boundary assessment, talking about consent every step of the way, being really transparent about the material — how much work that does all on its own.

Have you experienced such trauma in your singing and acting career?

I share this story quite a bit because I’ve dealt with it, and it’s one of the things that brought me to this work. I was singing in an opera (in which) I had a stage kiss with a co-star and in one performance, he stuck his tongue down my throat. That was not what was scripted, obviously. I had to keep going. I had to sing an aria after that. At that point in my life and career, I did not have the confidence or self-possession to report what happened. So, no, there weren’t any consequences for that person. It’s a frighteningly common story and experience.

How did that experience inform your current job?

It works best to just assume at least one person in the room has had an experience like that. I try to cultivate an environment where everyone feels comfortable coming to me. I lay down the law right at the beginning: “This is the choreography. This is what we all agreed happens on stage. If a boundary gets crossed, you’re done.”

How do you decompress when you leave for the day?

One of (the) things we’re taught in training is a self-care routine. You leave rehearsal and you kind of have a routine … that compartmentalizes. I play a video game, specifically one that’s a real comfort game — Stardew Valley. It’s (in) a genre called cozy gaming. So I get home, I put on comfortable clothes, I sit down, my husband’s there, usually there’s a cat on my lap. I play … Stardew and then I’m like OK, I can release it now.

How did you get involved in stage work?

I did not do a single piece of theater until my freshman year in college. I know, I’m a weirdo. It was at the University of Oklahoma (where) I started singing. I was in my first opera, and I was hooked. The dresses, the wigs, all of it. Having an opera be your first theater experience is a little wild. It wasn’t until graduate school that I did my first musical. And then I started doing musicals and, “Oh, wait. I love musicals. This is even more fun.’” But then I hit a really big speed bump. My third semester in grad school, fall 2012, I was crossing a street with my dad and we were both hit by a car. I had a really bad concussion. I had to basically relearn how to sing. It delayed my career quite a bit. It wasn’t until the summer of 2018 that I got my first professional opera role.

Do you still perform?

I do not. I learned that summer that it wasn’t for me. I like being behind the scenes. I like directing. I do some costuming, too. When I switched to that side of the table, I started getting so much work, I had to say no to jobs. And it was like, “Oh, this is what everything has been leading to.”

What has made you successful?

I’m empathetic. I listen. I’m really passionate about the subject and the training. I’m good at building trust with people, and I show people that I honor that trust and that I take it seriously. I carry it as a responsibility.

What’s one of your pet peeves?

In theater, a pet peeve of mine is people not wearing the right shoes, even in rehearsal. Your shoes change your whole body. Rehearse in your shoes, guys.

Do you have any quirks?

Yeah. Of course I do. I really hate bananas. Not just the taste. The smell ruins my whole day. My whole life I’ve been like this.