Feb 5, 2022

A small tribute to Dean Zayas

 Normally, I don't comment on local news, but one of my favorite College Professors and trusted confidant, Dean Zayas passed away a few days ago. He was at a time a famous director in both theater and soap operas. Most importantly for years he took charge of the University of Puerto Rico Theater troupe, el Teatro Rodante de la UPR, where one of its founders is a distant relative of mine. Something I discovered very close to my graduation.  I won't go into detail of his whole career, since the Humanities Dept. from the UPR rook care of that. I'd rather speak on how he impacted ME.


Dean knowing my family, my mom in particular, wasn't something I knew about. Then again, my mom also studied Theater Arts and Dean was one of her professors, so I should've expected that they knew each other. 

I had a a nightmarish "Helicopter Parent" situation. I failed an exam on his History course and got a D. He was disappointed in me because at class, I knew the material inside and out, but on the test I performed poorly due to my laziness. I tried to BS my way out, but he saw through it and he called me out on it saying that I shouldn't settle with "coasting", because it's lazy. Being talented is good, but it's not enough if it isn't backed by discipline. I took the D... that's not what I meant! and promised that I would put more effort on the exams. Fast forward a few days later and My mom comes at me screaming like a Banshee and scolding me for failing that exam for being lazy... something she couldn't have known, since it was the first exam of the semester and report cards don't mention laziness. Apparently, my mom casually bumped into him and they chatted a bit and she brought me up. He told her about my disappointing test score and now I'm getting chewed up. I admitted that I fucked up and that I would work hard to not fuck up again, which I did.  But the nightmare didn't end there. Dean remembered my mom as an academically gifted student... so now I had to get good grades and compete against my mom's academic ghost. 
I wish I could say that I kicked her ass, but I can't... I DID beat her in some areas, but not in others. 

So after the Helicopter incident and him being a huge source of advice to his students. I often looked up to him for counsel academically speaking. Also, it helped that he once saw me at a bus stop to go to college and gave me a lift. Back then, I lived on a gated community that could be used as a shortcut to reach campus... (it's a shortcut on car, on foot it can be a bit of a maze.) So, I got free rides as long as he was going to campus. I began carryimg a spare beeper to open the gate and allow him to use the shortcut. This gave us more time to chat about life, my goals and him trying to get me to join el Teatro Rodante... something I couldn't do for 2 reasons:
First: I had other responsibilities besides college. One of them was help raise my kid brother... (Now I know parentification is bad, but I saw it as my duty)
The second one, is one that I now can say since both Dean and my Mom are dead: I wasn't good enough. I suppose Dean saw my potential and Mom knew I love the stage... but my insecurities were a huge hurdle. My insecurities leaned on my off campus duties to keep me from fully chasing my dream. 

So, when I had to take stage directing, Dean was the professor and I made sure to put in an effort and I gravitated towards the absurd and the immature, pushing myself. Somehow Dean managed to read me like an open book.  He knew when I had prepared my work vs when I pulled it out my ass despite looking identical. He was keeping tabs on me with other professors, especially on the design classes. I know he liked some of my designs for the costume design class.

Making long story short: 
Dean Zayas was a defender of the Theater Arts in Puerto Rico. He devoted his life to the arts and in academia, he managed to touch the lives of many students, including my own. He's one of my favorite professors, nay he's much more than that. I'd say he's a friend, who pushed me out of my comfort zone. Gracias por todo, Dean. Hasta siempre.

No comments:

Post a Comment