Messiness of being

I went to these two performance (second was more a participatory discussion) yesterday.  The first was a dance piece (in progress, I think), followed by a performance of Rimbaud's poetry featuring a dancer, a cellist, and an actor, which I liked quite a bit.  The second had three pieces dealing with identity, authenticity, and belonging, I think, and then the audience broke into small groups to meet with each of the performers (or groups.)  It was to start conversation.  (A lot of the same people were at both.  Two different venues.)

How do you share in someone else's culture without co-opting it?  How do you use any privilege you might have to better things for someone else who lacks it?  Someone implied you needed to act, but acting blindly without knowing what the other wants or needs (paternalism?) can be as bad as doing nothing.  You need to have the courage to ask, "What's wrong?" "What do you need?" "What can I do to help?"  There needs to be a conversation.  How do you start it?

Someone mentioned feeling isolated until they somehow realized other people felt the same way...what takes so long for those conversations to happen?  What's getting in the way?  Why is it not safe to have them?  It reminds me of something I was told about a women's craft co-operative that had recently been started in Costa Rica when I was studying there in college.  Someone said that there had been a lot of domestic abuse, and the extent of it hadn't been known because no one was talking about it (shame? normalizing it?) and then this co-op was started and women started talking to each other and sharing experience, and realizing that it was common, and also, not acceptable, and because they were able to build community, things started to change.

And then someone else mentioned her fear of crowd mentality, and how fast people will join a group, or adapt their behavior to the group. And how we lose (or are perceived to lose) our individuality, or our individual discernment in those situations.  And in a herd (which she studies) that can be a safety move, but what if that group is actively against your best interest or what you know to be right?

And related to that?  Why have so many of us silenced ourselves?  Why have we become afraid to express what we really feel?  We nod our heads in agreement, or say nothing when we should speak up, and I think a part of us dies every time we shut ourselves down.  I'm not suggesting to always be contrary or confrontational, but there are times we should say something and yet remain silent. (To keep the peace, to not rock the boat, whatever.)

And then on a more performance/artistic level, how do you find your authentic voice?  How do you get to the place where you are presenting who you are and not what you think will please an audience, drive tickets sales, make money?  How do you stay true to yourself?  The world probably needs more of that and less of everyone trying to cash in on the flavor of the day.

In the end, the conversation was specific to that space and the art form (dance) and an exclusion people were feeling, though you can feel it in society as well (especially if you find yourself always in the midst of people like yourself, which is easy to do...there was more diversity when I was growing up than there has been since I left home, and I know that has affected me, and I have to actively fight against it.  But you don't resist things you are not aware of.)  I went because I thought it would be thought-provoking, which it was, though I'm not a dancer.  The facilitator commented on that at the end, saying that her husband, a musician, can walk into a store and have other musicians acknowledge him for his work, regardless of the color of his skin, sexuality, beliefs, culture, etc.  Her point being that the music community is more inclusive, more open to experiencing the other, working with each other, etc...so how do the rest of us embrace more of that attitude, and less exclusivity?

It's over now

"We would all like to be part of; to create that theatre which we could participate in with pride, on which we could reflect with pride. To do so one must buy a ticket. The price of admission is choice. Choice to participate in the low, the uncertain, the unproved, the unheralded, to bring the truth of yourself to the stage, not the groomed, sure, "Talented", approved person you are portraying, not the researched, corseted, paint-by-numbers presentation without flaws, not the Great Actor, but yourself, as uncertain, as unprepared, as confused as any of us are." -David Mamet

I like these people, it was a privilege to spend the past eleven weeks with them. To show up every week and pay a witness to the work done in private, the work done apart from one another. It went well, for everyone. I want to see how far it can go. 17 days until clown class. 19 days until interviews. 23 days until we work together again. Counting down.  "To live truthfully under imaginary circumstances..." why should it matter, what difference does it make? Somehow it does though. Letting it all be open-ended, following the questions, the wants, out to wherever they lead, and trusting in the process. Trusting that where I am at this moment, is the right place for me to be.