Erin Stewart as Diwata in “Speech & Debate” at Seattle Rep. Photo by Kathryn Barnard.

You don’t mean to spark an argument by asking where the Franklin High School main office is, but since you’ve addressed the question to a couple of high school boys, you recognize the possibility.

“Go up those stairs and take a right,” a pudgy kid in a striped shirt tells you.

“No it’s left, you idiot,” says his skinnier friend. “The main office. You’re thinking of something else.”

“Oh.”

You thank them, feeling bad for the pudgy kid and vaguely annoyed at the skinny one. Kids can be cruel, which, if not the message of the high school comedy Speech & Debate, running through February 21 at the Seattle Rep (tickets $12/$30-$52), is certainly a key principle. You’re here to meet Erin Stewart, who plays proud teenage dork Diwata in the play.

Stewart does not need directions to the office, because she—like smooth sax superstar Kenny G, current U.S. Secretary of Commerce Gary Locke, and reigning NBA 6th Man of the Year Jason Terry—is a graduate of Franklin High. Stewart, Class of 1999, arrives wearing a long black sweater and tells you that she hasn’t been back to these halls since she graduated. “Like nine years,” she says. “No wait. Ten. No eleven, I guess.” A pause. “Wow.”

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“Where should we go,” you ask her. “Is there any part of the school that means something to you?”

Erin suggests The Little Theater, where all the drama kids hung out. Classes have just ended, so she leads you through the mass of students hurtling through the halls, down the main stairs and along a long hallway. Midway you stop near a metal door. It’s closed, but with classes out you take the risk and open it. Inside, kids scurry about, while in the center of the room a stylish woman with bright red lipstick barks the occasional order. This is Mary Smith, Stewart’s old drama teacher.

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Stewart introduces herself, and you see Smith’s expressive eyes widen to cartoon-like dimensions and her mouth spread into a Cheshire Cat smile. “Er-in Stew-art,” she says, making each syllable an exclamation. “Of course I remember you!”

You fade into the background as Smith and Stewart talk about past drama productions.

“You didn’t have half the chutzpah you do know,” Smith tells her.

“I was pretty quiet,” Stewart admits.

Smith turns to you, scribbling away on your notepad, trying to keep track of the conversation. “The things these kids did blew me away,” she says.

When Stewart finally reveals that she’s playing the lead in a show at the Rep, Mrs. Smith’s obvious pride has you briefly considering a teaching career.

 

Justin Huertas, Trick Danneker, Amy Thone, and Erin Stewart in “Speech & Debate.” Photo by Chris Bennion.

Stewart, who grew up in West Seattle, came to Franklin specifically for the drama program. But her high school experience wasn’t notable for her drama career. After the reunion with Mrs. Smith, sitting outside on the steps of her old school, you ask Stewart if she won the lead in any plays. “No, not at all,” comes the response. Stewart recalls high school more for how she developed as a person. “My freshman year I wanted to be like other people,” she says. “By senior year I came into my own a little more.”

 

In Speech and Debate, Stewart gets to play a character who’s already found her identity. “I wish I were more like Diwata (in high school),” says Stewart. “She owns what she is.”

Diwata is the weird girl. You know the type—every school had one. Stewart, who says she enjoys character roles, adopts an extremely squeaky voice and some odd mannerisms for Diwata. She was able to link some of her own experience to the character as well. “She spends time in her room with her keyboard. I connected with that right away,” says Stewart. “I made a video, kind of like a journal entry. I wish I still had it but I think I threw it away out of embarrassment.”

Diwata serves as the link that brings together two other outsiders at their Salem, Oregon high school—an overambitious reporter for the school paper, and a newly-arrived gay student from Portland. She tricks them into joining a new speech and debate club. The three find a common enemy in the censorship of art and news by their school’s administration.

As the other two characters begin to own what they are, the show really takes off. The final act is consistently funny, culminating in a joyous dance number that fills Leo K. Theater with laughter. But this isn’t the type of comedy you forget right away. Those issues of censorship, especially concerning sexuality, still exist in high school and adult life. And the battle to be an individual—the battle Diwata seems to have won—continues well after high school.

At its heart, the play is a celebration of individuality. Stewart’s Diwata, by being herself, inspires the other characters to do the same.

“When I was in high school…I did not have the confidence to do what she was doing,” Stewart says. “She was considered the weird girl and embraced it.”