Unnatural Spaces opens in just two days! Whoa! I am so excited. Working on this show has been an incredible blessing – it has brought me into contact with new people and new ideas, and dramatically (I mean, dramatically!) transformed my environmental politics. Before I started working on Unnatural Spaces, I thought “environmentalism” was about recycling, about maybe riding my bike to work. Now, when I think about “the environment,” I think about the relationship between toxic metal syndrome and violence in Chicago. I think about the relationship between lead poisoning and school test scores. I think about the relationship between food additives, poverty, and lowered life expectancy. I think about the way that our culture produces not only disposable products, but disposable people – large chunks of the population who are consistently on the front lines of toxic waste.

But this awakening has not brought with it a sense of judgement towards others. From the beginning, the poets and performers working on the project have been adamant that we didn’t want this piece to be “preachy,” that we didn’t want to assume a position that we were experts, that we had answers. Instead, we wanted to ask questions and to complicate, to look at “the environment” from diverse points of view and from a place of human generosity. (In general, this is the guiding principle of my work, to approach from a perspective of “critical generosity” that acknowledges the messiness of human lives.)

We also wanted to be funny. I know, I know… a play about environmental justice created by collective of poets doesn’t scream “must-see comedy of the year!” And Unnatural Spaces definitely isn’t a comedy. But in trying to get to the “honest place” in our conversation about the environment, we’ve found a lot of humour. After all, people are weird, funny creatures, full of contradictions. And believe me, there is comedy gold in asking people to list all the reasons they do things like pee in public pools or wear their flip flops in the shower.

So, yeah… it is two days before opening and I feel so READY to share this piece with the world, to sit next to friends and strangers and find out what kinds of conversations the show opens up. Want to join me?

We run OCTOBER 5-OCTOBER 28.

Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays at 7pm at the Hairpin Arts Center (2800 N. Milwaukee Ave)

Tickets are $15 dollars general admission, $7 for students, and $5 for groups of ten or more (bargain!)

For more information, please visit guildcomplex.org

 
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For the past few days I’ve been at the ATHE Conference. ATHE stands for Association of Theatre in Higher Education, and it is a giant gathering of theatre educators and practitioners. This year, we’re in D.C., and the theme of the year has been thusly shaped- lots of panels and papers about civic engagement.

I’ll admit. I kicked off the conference with a bad attitude. I didn’t bring my daughter with me (she’s home with my partner), and that sets a VERY high standard for my time: is this worth being away from my child for 6 (!) days? The answer is almost always no, and yet, I am, so I get teary eyed every time I see a child (creepy) and I walk around feeling resentful of something I CHOSE to do. And yet, my crabbiness hasn’t been entirely unwarranted: some of the panels on “applied theatre” (that’s theatre that you “apply” to some social use besides aesthetics) have really alarmed me! Yes, collaborations between universities/colleges and not-for-profits can be really productive, especially when the university has resources to support a project. But, No! Waltzing into “the deep dark city” to create a patronizing “Boal piece” with “underprivileged kids” is not cool, even if it feels like you’re “saving them” from “their dangerous neighborhoods.” I want to hear conversations about sustainability of partnerships, about the very real challenges that differential privilege imposes on collaborations, on the processes of self-education and awareness that new teaching artists must engage in to avoid a missionary attitude towards their work. See how crabby I’ve been? One session made me so mad I walked out midway and went to get a manicure. It honestly seemed a better use of my time!

But there have been bright spots! I’m lucky to be involved with the Latino Focus Group at the conference, and they are (collectively) such a delight. Supportive of each other, invested in mentorship, strategic about building collaborations, and generally warm and funny. I feel kind of cozy and relaxed whenever I go to an LFG session. It’s reassuring to know these people are out there, all year, working in the academy, somewhere. And then… there’s the Hippetyhop!

I helped to organize a session on Hip-Hop Theatre Pedagogy, which was scheduled up against THE ONLY OTHER session on Hip-Hop: a staged reading of SMASH/HIT (a piece still in development). I thought this didn’t bode well for our workshop. After all, how many people “in the academy” really care about Hip-Hop? And given the choice, wouldn’t people who love Hip-Hop choose to go see a piece of performance, rather than sit in on a discussion? But our discussion was really well attended, and full of enthusiastic people. About five minutes into the session, I felt my heart lift in a kind of geeked out giddiness. A room full of people strategizing ways to create space within the institution to let our students be the experts, to let them guide the process of knowledge, to create environments where they are empowered to drive their learning. About how to sneak “Hip-Hop” into the broader curriculum. I put Hip-Hop in quotes because what defines “Hip-Hop theatre” is always contested, but much of what we are FOR SURE talking about is the inclusion of contemporary texts by playwrights/collectives who write about multicultural and often urban experience, who use a variety of forms and represent rhythms and ways of speaking that are often excluded in canonical texts. Whoa. I just got real academic there, but, you know, I do talk that way sometimes…! Usually, even…

I have two more days here and am missing my daughter desperately. But I’m also excited about coming home, and thinking about for real strategies of collaboration in the classroom, and between my institution and “the community.” Oh, hippetyhop! I love you!