When Moisés Kaufman, the New York-based director of The Laramie Project, was preparing to embark on the process of interviewing Laramie residents about the Matthew Shepard murder, he contacted Rebecca Hilliker to ask if she would help him. Hilliker, the head of the drama and dance department at the University of Wyoming, was initially skeptical of Kaufman's request. But as she explains in the following interview, the two eventually became allies in the creation of The Laramie Project.

Time Classroom: When did you first hear about The Laramie Project, and what was your reaction to the concept that Moisés Kaufman was proposing?

Rebecca Hilliker: When Moisés first called and said that he wanted to come here, I was distressed, because the community was in a trauma and my students in the drama department–both gay and straight–were under a great deal of stress. The last thing in the world that they needed was someone else coming in and prying into their lives, because the media had descended on the community in such a way that they really felt defiled. They felt that nobody was really listening, that everyone was taking their words out of context and making them seem bigoted, when in reality they were trying to explain what they were feeling about things that might be problematic in the community.

It never even dawned on me that the Moisés Kaufman who was calling me had written Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde. It never even dawned on me! And then he said, "Well, look, I'll send you a copy of my play, and then we'll go from there and talk in a few days." And so he sent me Gross Indecency, and I said, "Oh my God! I've just embarrassed myself so badly." Because, of course, I love that work. I think it's a really respectful work and that it has made a difference in our lives, and in the world, about understanding tolerance. And so when he called me back, I said: "Yes, I would love to have you come, and by all means bring your company." And so he came with the ten actors who had been in Gross Indecency.

TC: What happened when Moisés and his team first arrived in Laramie?

RH: The very first thing that happened was that he went to one of my classes that had like 50 freshmen and sophomores in it, mostly very young students who were probably the most traumatized by the whole event. It wound up being an incredible experience, because for the first time in the past couple of weeks, somebody actually sat down and listened to them and really wanted to hear exactly what they wanted to say and what they were experiencing. And that led to Moisés' interviews with other students. I got interviews with different professors in the community, and different ranchers, and other people, so that he could get started. And once he did get started, the whole process really took on a life of its own: one interview led to another interview. I think that the whole community, for the first time, felt that somebody was really listening to them.

We also felt that Moisés and his company members were here to go through the whole experience of what was happening over a really long period of time. It wasn't somebody who came in for two days and took as many pictures as they could and then left to tell a story based on those few images. They were here for all the trials; they were here for all the candlelight vigils; they were here for the anniversary vigil. Every time a major event happened in the community, they came back. And when we did the play Angels in America, they came back to see our students perform it. So they really did become a part of our community They weren't just some outsiders who had a fragment of the story. They had the whole story.

TC: Can you say a little more about Laramie itself, and some of the stereotypes that the media has applied to the town in describing it?

RH: The stereotypes are really kind of ironic, because the people from the West can't stand to be stereotyped with that old cowboy imagery. We don't like that myth-making. We're regular people and human beings just like everyone else. And yet at the same time, ironically, whenever things get tough, we go back to that very same imagery ourselves. And so one of the themes in the movie and the play is the idea of "Live and let live," the idea that we're all these independent and free thinkers. And we very much are. But whenever things get difficult, we go back and we use that imagery as a defense mechanism. So in essence we create our own myths about ourselves, and our own romantic imagery of who we are. I think one of the poignant things in the play is that when you hear yourself saying those words back, you really have to step back and say: "Hey, wait a minute."

I think if there is anything that I learned from the film, it's that we all have our own prejudices, and we all have our own issues that we have to constantly fight against and grow to be more mature and responsible people. And so language becomes really critical.

Father Roger, in the play, has a great line about how if you call someone a "queer," you're violating them. It's violence against them. But it goes further than that. As a teacher, as even a friend, you can't let other people use that language. You can't let people stereotype. You have to always be vigilant, as a teacher in particular, and say, "I'm not going to tolerate any kind of intolerant speech in my classroom."

TC: As a theater professor, what are your thoughts on The Laramie Project as a work of literature?

RH: As a writer, Moisés Kaufman has the remarkable ability to set up images and ideas and juxtapose them in such a way that you really have to look at both sides of the story. You're not allowed to just escape into simple story ideas and forget about the learning process. And as a result, The Laramie Project makes you look not just at the range of people's emotions and their levels of tolerance, but at yourself. And to say, "Where am I weak? Where are the places that I really need to learn, and where can I become a better teacher?"

One of the moments in the play that, for me, is really poignant is the whole circumstance with Reggie Fluty. I love those moments in the play. I have my own stereotypes about police officers; those come very much from television, which presents a shoot-'em-up, bang-'em-up image of police officers. But also when the media portrays these people, they distance themselves emotionally from what is happening to them. So the fact that when Reggie takes Matthew Shepard's body off the fence, and when he stops breathing, she stops breathing, and when she stops breathing, you stop breathing in the audience. And you think, "Oh my God, this person is doing these things for the community so selflessly and so sympathetically." And then of course the whole situation that she has to go through, having made the choice to deal with him even though she had no gloves and her hands were bleeding and he was bleeding. All of a sudden she becomes a major human being in our lives. She's not just a police officer; she's a part of our community, and she's a really compassionate, important part of our community. And you can't see her in the light in which you have stereotyped police officers any longer.

I think there's a really major lesson to be learned there: We all stereotype something in our lives. And if we can learn the things that we stereotype, we can not only become more tolerant as human beings, but we can really look at the bigger picture of what the difficulties are in our society that we have placed there ourselves. One of the things that I find disturbing nationally right now is the use of the word "evil," and the fact that we are stereotyping whole cultures as evil. The minute you start using language inappropriately–I think I learned this from the play more than anything else–you can become part of the problem. Whether you're a minister in a church preaching words of intolerance, or whether you're a politician, or whoever–the minute you start narrowing your language to those stereotypic words and to name-calling, you're in trouble.

TC: Clearly, you've thought a lot about the nature of tolerance, and about teaching tolerance. What perspective on this would you like to share with other teachers and with students?

RH: I think the thing for teachers is you can't ever assume that you've gotten there in terms of teaching tolerance. It has to be ongoing; it has to be thought-out; you can't ever let inappropriate language be used, even if it seems to be a joke. You have to stop and make the students talk about it and think about it. You just have to always go there. You have to be willing to put yourself on the line and say, "This is what I believe, and this is why I believe in this." Because if you just let the students read the play and then go away, they can say, "Well, you know, I don't really need to accept this. I don't really need to think about it very much. That's somebody else's idea and opinion." You have to take an active role in trying to be a good role model, and trying to have your students understand where you're coming from yourself. Because if you don't put your own emotions on the line and your own ideals on the line, why should students have to? So that's the thing that I learned most about being a teacher.

For students, it's really important to understand one fundamental principle, and that is: You have to treat other people the way that you want to be treated. And you have to care about other people the way you want to be cared about, even if they are different. The minute you name-call, you need to ask yourself, Why am I doing that? What in my life has brought me to think that that's appropriate? What has taught me that these words are okay? Because if you can't get back to the root of where it came from–whether it came from language that you heard from your family, or from your friends–then you can't change that behavior.

When we did the play here, we brought 400 high school students from all over the state of Wyoming–from really remote and rural communities. Moisés and I were the most nervous about that performance. We thought, How are these high school kids going to respond? And we didn't have enough boxes of Kleenex to cover all of the tears in the audience. We had students come back afterwards and say, "I will never call someone a queer again in my life." So they not only heard Father Roger's line, but they took it to heart. And they learned why he said what he said. So that for me was one of the highest points in my whole teaching and educational career. Because we had made a difference. I could see the difference right there, right then.

I think that's why I'm so happy that the movie has been made, because it is going to reach so many young people.

TC: What impact do you think the creation of The Laramie Project had on the community of Laramie itself?

RH: As difficult and scary as it was for us to go through this process with Moisés and the actors, they were so compassionate and so thoughtful and so respectful in how they dealt with this community–and they really helped us sit down and take the time to look at ourselves. And if that hadn't happened for us as a community, I don't think we would have ever come to terms with Matthew Shepard's death. So we were very grateful and very fortunate that this company came into our lives.