Belonging. Noun. An affinity for a place or situation.
This fall I had a first, it was my first time leading a Devising Hope program. I have taught many ETC programs over my 17 years, but I have never taught an adult program for ETC. I was excited and humbled by the chance to reignite this program that is near and dear to so many at ETC. But what made this so special was that not only was I going to challenge myself and grow as a teaching artist, but I was doing it with Challenging Racism, and their Executive Director Monique Bryant, who has become a colleague and a friend. I was looking to do more, learn more, and become an ally. I was looking to belong.
The hardest part of this program is to build trust from day one. But that’s what theatre does, it builds empathy and compassion for others. This is why blending theatre activities with discussions on systemic racism is the perfect pairing. Devising Hope participants learn to identify types of oppression, but to also examine themselves, their community, and have open and honest discussions about their experiences. I knew I would hear stories that would be powerful, I knew that we would build community, but I didn’t expect two of the participants to walk out on the first day.
That first day my co-teachers, Monique and Dawn from Challenging Racism, and I set the expectations of the sessions. The 15 participants were ready. They seemed excited to have a platform to share and to be heard. But there was one woman who was listening quietly and was friendly, but guarded. She questioned the theatre exercises and if they were going to be a part of the program. She was guarded with her stories. I thought, uh oh, does she realize that their words were going to be turned into a script to be performed?
After another participant finished their poignant story about immigrating to the United States, she said she didn’t want to hear any more stories like that. But how can you tell someone that their story shouldn’t be heard, that it isn’t important? She ended up leaving the session. So did the storyteller.
How could this happen? We had created a room where we supported open conversation! We finished the session and it went really well. The participants shared heartfelt stories. I couldn’t help but think, maybe this program is not for her.
The next week she returned and as the session went on, she began feeling more and more comfortable. Each week we brought in a new topic of discussion, and that day it was about belonging. Many people spoke about how they felt like they belonged at Gilliam Place where they were all residents. Some even commented on how they belonged everywhere they went.
But she didn’t feel like she belonged anywhere. At home, in the apartment complex, in our session - she didn’t belong anywhere.
The group thrived - they spoke louder, they shared more, and organically they became actors - using their bodies and voices to act out their experiences without me even asking!
It wasn’t until the third session together that her outer protective shell began to crack. The entire group was looking forward to each week. We had developed a rapport and couldn’t wait to get together again. The group thrived - they spoke louder, they shared more, and organically they became actors - using their bodies and voices to act out their experiences without me even asking! She even began to ask for the theatre warm ups to be longer!
She found her belonging.
When it was time for participants to continue sharing their experiences, halfway through the class our once unsure participant told one of the most powerful, heartfelt, devastating, and intimate stories as to why she immigrated to the United States. With tears rolling down her face, she told it all. Her friends in the class rubbed her back and the room was silent. She had never told her friends her story. Now her reactions on the first day made sense. She didn’t want to hear stories about immigration because it brought back too many experiences she had tried to forget. We were all in awe. Suddenly her story had new purpose and she began to heal.
They had reverence in the words, they honored each other's stories and read them like they were precious gifts they were sharing with the world.
After the 4th session, I had the daunting task of listening to all of the impactful stories and to choose which ones would be put into a script for them to read for an audience. The group shared so many beautiful things. I hesitated to include her story. If it caused so much pain to tell, I didn’t want to create more pain retelling it! I added it to the rough draft and when we met to rehearse, another participant read it. I went up to her at the end of the session and told her that if her story was too hard to hear, I would just cut it from the script. She quickly told me to leave it. She wanted young people to hear her story. She wanted them to know that here in America they have it good. She wanted them to learn from her story.
Her story and many others were read in a powerful theatrical performance by a group of nonactors. You would have thought they had been training as actors for years based on the performance they gave! They had reverence in the words, they honored each other's stories and read them like they were precious gifts they were sharing with the world.
They shared stories about heritage, like a Vietnamese woman escaping her country from the Vietnam war; stories about health care inequities and ageism; about feeling inadequate due to the color of your skin; a story about a nonspeaker who had to drop out of school because Arlington Public Schools denied his request to use his device in the classroom; and stories about feeling like it was all too much and life wasn’t worth it anymore. The participants, though they all had different backgrounds and experiences, were all just looking to belong.
By the time our initially reluctant participant’s story was finished being shared, there was not a dry eye in the audience. There is power in a story. There is power in a community. We all have a story worth listening to, worth sharing. At the end of the performance, after the applause had ended and the audience was about to leave, she was the one who stood up and thanked me for bringing this program to Gilliam Place. She thanked me for giving her the opportunity to share her story. We embraced, and the tears fell as I soaked in how much this project meant to all of us. These stories took flight and touched us, stayed with us, and will stay with us. Through Devising Hope, she finally felt like she belonged, and so did I.
⁑ We are seeking interested organizations to participate in this program. Do you or your company want to sponsor a session? Contact us: Info@EducationalTheatreCompany.org
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