"What the Constitution Means to Me"
Meadow Brook Theatre
Rochester, Mich.
Through March 8, 2026
In her autobiographical play, “What the Constitution Means to Me,” Heidi Schreck recounts dreams where she staves off murderers and rapists by nicely telling them that she is a human being – just like they are. The exchange results in a successful and magical wake-up call, and they ascend together on a rainbow to heaven.
This colorful, candy-coated fantasy nightmare is a near perfect representation of the 2019 Pulitzer Prize-nominated play, now at Meadow Brook Theatre. Directed by Travis Walter, the nearly one-woman show explores the harsh realities of women’s experiences throughout American history. It is (mostly) humorously told through Heidi’s experiences and those of her mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, framed by the American Constitution.
As a teenager, Schreck was able to pay her college tuition by traveling the country winning American Legion oratorical contests about the Constitution. Participants were challenged to share how the Constitution affected aspects of their personal lives and were tested on their knowledge and interpretation of individual components.
Set in a generic American Legion Hall, Schreck’s story is a mix of teenage Heidi re-enacting one of her debates while adult Heidi pauses to offer side commentary, based on the wisdom gained from more life experience. Along the way she casually drops a number of statistics, court interpretations and stories illustrating the depths of the objectification and abuse of women throughout (mostly) American history, up to scarily recent times. The play also touches on similar experiences by anyone in this country who is not a straight, White man.
The amount of information was almost too vast to retain, but one story that nearly brought me to tears was about the 2005 Jessica Gonzales v. United States of America court case. After violating his restraining order, Gonzales’ estranged husband kidnapped their three children, bought a gun (legally) and killed them. Local police had done nothing to prevent this despite Gonzales’ repeated pleas, and she successfully sued them. In subsequent appeals, the Supreme Court overturned her case, interpreting the word “shall” as not meaning “must.” They ruled Gonzales had no Constitutional right to the police enforcing her restraining order, relieving the local police from the responsibility of doing their (taxpayer paid) jobs. This happened in 2005, the 21st century, when I was a young adult.
While the show deals with a heavy subject matter, the tone is almost the opposite – to great effect. Heidi, especially as a teenager, is frantically upbeat, upholding a constant smile, which often drops in the adult side commentary. During my preview performance, Cheryl Turski starred as Heidi, a role she alternates with Dani Cochrane. Turski captured Heidi’s neurotic charm and abrupt stoicism. She bounced around stage grinning or stared at the audience dead on; Turski’s delivery let the realities of these horrible American truths speak for themselves.
The second part of the show brought 18-year-old college student Gracie Walch on stage to debate with Turski, as herself, on the relevancy of the American Constitution. It was lively and thought-provoking with an element of audience participation. It ended with the two answering personal questions about themselves in an effort to get the audience to see them as individual human beings – bringing the play full circle.
While some may think to dismiss the play as man-hating or overtly political, “What the Constitution Means to Me” is not a blatant attack on men. Heidi references the good men in her life, including American Legionnaire mentor Mike (played by Leo Hellar) in the show as a “positive male energy.” Her play is based on facts and personal experiences – not opinions to be debated, unless, of course, the debate pertains to interpretations of the Constitution. It’s best to approach the show with an open mind.
“What the Constitution Means to Me” is both a depiction of women’s undervalued experiences and an exploration of our founding governance and its limitations. It begs the question if an 18th-century document written by slave-owning White men still serves us today, or rather, makes us question which Americans it does serve. Every woman will relate to it. Every man should see it. And, as the United States celebrates its 250th anniversary – and the very soul of our democracy is at stake – every American should reflect on it.
