Nik Johnson


A Father Role


by Larry Greco Harris


Nik Johnson recently performed in a local rendition of The Miracle Worker. In it he played the father of Helen Keller. He played a grey, balding and wrinkled older man who fought mightily to assert himself as the head of a family over which he had obviously lost all control. His fatherly character was bombastic, but worried, weak and ineffectual—seemingly mean, yet heartwarmingly loving, wanting the best for his daughter. 


Nik’s performance was riveting, humane and spot on. He made it easy to forget that he is not a father, but a 23-year-old aspiring actor who is trying to stay true to his artistic journey while struggling to stay afloat in difficult economic times.


“Like a lot of 22- to 23-year-olds, I have many ideas about what I should do, but no definite plans. I really like the dramatic arts and would like to see myself live off of the art that I produce. However, my plans at the moment are merely to survive in this economy. Sometimes I think, here I am wanting to be an actor or a musician in a world where people out there with college degrees are pumping gas—and that terrifies me.”


The connection between Nik and Blue Train does not include prison because he never went to prison. His incarcerations were minor offenses as a teenager with a couple of nights in jail. But the play’s emphasis on the power of a male mentor, whether it be a father, an uncle or just an older friend does mirror a new, real life role that Nik finds himself playing.


Unable to secure reliable employment, Nik spends much of his time volunteering and performing at the Studio for the Performing Arts in Arroyo Grande. “This Studio is a haven. It’s a sanctuary that you can go to at a young age. I like the productions, the people, the whole community experience here. It’s very intimate. This is the kind of thing that can keep young adults like me off the streets.”


When Nik speaks of that Arroyo Grande studio, it sounds as though he were speaking of a family which both sustains him and gives him an opportunity to participate as a member, often as a big brother, a mentor—in some ways like a father. 


“Sure, I might wake up every day and have trouble finding a job out there. But then I can come into the Studio of Performing Arts and still feel like a person who is contributing. I’m around a lot of little kids who want to be doing the same thing that I’m doing in theatre when they get to be my age. And that’s what keeps me going. In them I can see myself when I was six years old. And maybe I want to make them turn out better than I did.” 


Watching Nik interact with the kids at the studio might have something to do with the way he nailed that fatherly role. As a trained actor, he merely had to conjure up experiences that are true for him: struggle, persistence in the face of failure, and a true concern for the welfare of the children around him.