I drank the Facebook kool-aid

Against my better judgment, I joined Facebook. You can find me at https://www.facebook.com/rvcbard.

Yes, I am deeply ashamed of myself. Please don't rub it in.

Required reading

This review of Limitless at Movies by Bowes.

White Woman Feminist, an essay by Marilyn Frye from Willful Virgin: Essays in Feminism.

Go After the Privilege, not the Tits: Afterthoughts on Amanda Wallace and White Female Privilege at Racialicious.

Continuing that Conversation (or: White people, we need to talk)

The most important thing to remember
Transgressive discourse is difficult, even for people who know what those words mean without looking them up. I'm not asking anyone who comments on this post to agree, but at the very least acknowledge and respect the difficulty of the task and not undermine my purpose for doing it. This is not merely a stimulating discussion for me. This is a purpose that has grown from experiences that have shaped every aspect my my entire life. Part of that is speaking candidly about things that I've been trained to be silent about. I am bringing a great deal of myself to bear in this - even the ugly and messy parts - not merely the stuff that makes for a lively conversation. Every time I endeavor to have That Conversation, I am going against my programming. Every time I speak on this issue, I do so despite what I've been taught rather than because of it. Every time I talk to you (I mean you reading this right now), I'm speaking through the pain and fear and sadness and exhaustion to reach you. I still have hope.

Do not make this hope be misplaced.

Owning my shit

I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate [...] Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

-- MLK, Letter from a Birmingham Jail

I'm a queer Black woman who grew up in the South, so everything I say is coming from that experience. That's not to say other experiences are less important, but I've found that trying to speak for everyone means that I wind up not saying much at all. As a queer Black woman who grew up in the back yard of the capital of the Confederacy, here are a few life lessons I picked up along the way. I'm not saying they're good, or even right, but it's what I bring to That Conversation.

1. It's far easier to deal with an honest bigot than with Well Meaning White Liberals.
2. Most White women cannot be trusted with anything important - not my beliefs, not my values, not my feelings, not my humanity.
   
3. Black men often love but do not respect Black women.
4. Black women are often better at hating Black women than either White people or men.
5. White people do not know how to treat Black women with both respect and compassion; it has to be one or the other - pity or fear.
6. To most everyone except other Black women, to be Black and a woman (not merely female) is an oxymoron.
7. In every interaction with White people, I am on guard for racial microaggressions they don't even know they perpetuate.
8. My deepest and most enduring scars come from ignorance and indifference, not hatred.
9. A lot of people really do believe that a Black woman's life is a public service.
10. White people (particularly White men) need to be right, even if it makes them do wrong.
11. By and large, I am afraid of White people (especially White women).

Where I'm coming from

We renounce no friendship. But it may be the part of a friend to rebuke a friend's folly.

 --JRR Tolkien, The Silmarillion

About 2 weeks ago, I did a post on having That Conversation, where I laid down some guidelines on how to make That Conversation one that's worth having. I included a lot of stuff applicable to anyone who is participating in That Conversation. But now I want to focus on White folks for a minute because, in my experience, when That Conversation turns to shit, it's because of something a White person said.

I'm not talking about one of Those Other White People, either. I'm talking about White people who live in blue states, have dartboards with Glenn Beck's picture on them, march and protest against issues that harm people of color, and even maintain anti-racist blogs. But that doesn't stop you from fucking up.

Telling you that you're fucking up is not about hating you. It's not about making you feel guilty or ashamed of being White. Guilt-ridden and shame-filled White people are fearful White people. Fearful White people are angry White people. Angry White people have never been good news for Black people. Also, it doesn't make any sense. White guilt does not improve my situation in the least. As a matter of fact, it's more likely to make it worse because resentment doesn't live too far away from guilt.

As I said before, I'm not in this as a way of improving human relations. I am not from the Can't We All Just Get Along School of Racial Justice. I'm in this to transform society. This is my way of doing that: by changing the ways we relate to one another everyday without even thinking about it (see above). It has nothing to do with Good Guys and Bad Guys duking it out for the Fate of the World. It's about making our homes, families, neighborhoods, cities, and world a better place for everyone, including those who are not straight, White, and/or male. It's about becoming the change we want to see.

Oftentimes, having That Conversation with White people is like having an alcoholic in your family. You can't keep mopping up the puke, washing out the piss, making excuses for why they miss work, or explaining away destructive or abusive behavior because they were so drunk. You love them, and they're wonderful when they're sober, but things can't go on like this. Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do for them is to stop enabling them. Sometimes, the loving thing to do is hold them accountable for what they do. Sometimes, you show someone you love them by telling them what they don't want to hear. That's the point where I'm at now when it comes to That Conversation.

Think the alcoholism metaphor is a stretch? It isn't.

What almost never happens
Let me tell you about an encounter I had in a grocery store. I was picking up a few ingredients for the dish I was bringing to the next Community Dish meeting. Grocery Store Dude and his girlfriend(?) Grocery Store Chick were standing in the aisle chatting right next to the canned tomatoes, which I needed to look at to find what I was looking for. The guy tells me to go around them. I say, "Actually, I needed to get these," reaching for the petite diced tomatoes, and make my way. I am genuinely upset by this because I do not go out of my way to be rude to people. In fact, I'm usually excessively polite even when someone doesn't deserve it (like a neighbor playing loud ass techno at 2AM on a weeknight). My roommate -- one of the geekiest-looking, Starbucks-drinking, Macbook-carrying, NPR-listening, most good-natured Wonderbread motherfuckers you'll ever meet -- has cursed out more people than I have. I tend to internalize a lot of my aggravations and irritations. So Grocery Store Dude is now Entitled Asshole. I'm trying to shop, and this shit has been bothering me. Now I get in the line, and I see GSD/EA.

ME: Excuse me? Sir?
HIM: Sir? Who? Me?
ME: Yeah. Do you have any idea how rude you were to me back there.
HIM: Rude to you? What did I do?
ME: I was trying to get a can of diced tomatoes. You were talking to your lady, who just happened to be in the way, and you gave me some smartassed one-liner.
HIM: Oh. I didn't mean anything by it. I apologize.
ME: Thank you.

Now he's Grocery Store Dude again. I leave feeling a lot better because I stood up for myself and had my experience acknowledged and validated.

If only it happened like this with That Conversation.

Whenever I have That Conversation with a White person, and I talk about a particular kind of behavior that I see a lot in White people and what that says to me as a queer Black woman, it almost never leads to a White person saying, "Damn, I do that. I thought I was [doing something else] but looking at it that way, yeah, that's kinda messed up. Hey, if I ever did that to you, my bad. I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I'll be a lot more careful about this from now on."

What often happens is some variation of, "Fuck you! I'm not racist! I majored in African American studies! I fucked a Black person once! I voted for Obama! I watch Tyler Perry movies! I adopted an African baby! How DARE you call me racist!"

Wanna know how many times I actually called someone racist when having That Conversation? Zero. Even in the rare instances when I directly said, "Soandso is racist," I was talking about Mel Gibson, Dr. Laura, and that guy 99Seats cursed out last year.

What you usually do -- and what it does to me

When you grow in a racist, patriarchal, homophobic, classist, sexist culture your way of thinking becomes infused with ideas that are necessarily counter to freedom and basic human respect. Even the most conscious amongst us will continually revert to patterns of behaviour, thought, or speech, that are counter to our stated beliefs. Due to a constant desire to privilege our experience and our existence over another often we do not even recognize these lapses.

--Womanist Musings, "Get Your 101 On"

When you do things like this, you look a lot like Oedipus. Trying to avoid a prophecy, he does everything that makes him wind up killing his dad, fucking his mom, and gouging his eyes out. Despite all his efforts not to be called a patricidal motherfucker, that's exactly what he became.

We're storytellers here in theatre blogosphere, so let's tell a story.

You are an actor. You've got your MFA from Yale. You did Juilliard. You were personally instructed by The Great So And So. Finally, those years of preparation paid off! You've been cast in the lead role for a new play by Hot New Playwright. Throughout rehearsals, you're thinking and reading about this character. You are really living this role. You even keep a diary from the character's point of view. On opening night, you give your performance. There is applause. The next day, you read a review in The Village Voice, and the critic has slammed your performance. He calls it cliche, self-indulgent, and lifeless. All that work, and this what he has to say! Who the fuck does he think he is? Does he have an MFA in Acting from Yale? Did he go to Juilliard? Did this asshole study with The Great So And So? Did they keep a daily diary from the character's point of view? Did he see how the audience responded to you? No! So fuck him and his bullshit plebe aesthetics (hi, Josh). But those voices are still in your head. Am I really any good, or am I just fooling myself? Did I truly give a compelling performance? Was my audience engaged with how I portrayed this character? Were they just clapping to be polite? What if The Village Voice is right? What if I failed? Will I be able to land a leading role ever again? Am I really any good?

If this fictional performance were the same as That Conversation, the actor would have rallied the other actors in the show, gone to the critic's birthday party, cornered his at the bar, shoved his resume in the critic's face, and demanded a public apology for the unflattering review (complete with groveling, preferably on broken glass).

Really, White people, what do you expect to happen when a person of color tells you that something you did smelled a little fishy?

THEM: That shit you just did sorta raised my racism red flags.
YOU: What the hell are you talking about? I [insert Not A Racist Credentials].
THEM: Oh. Well, now that you put it that way, forget everything I said. It was completely baseless. Carry on.

Want me to shut the fuck up right quick? Act like you have nothing to learn about racism. Want me to stop talking to you? Keep doing it. Don't be fooled. It's not because you convinced me with the power of your argument. It's because you've proven that you cannot be trusted with That Conversation. Frankly, it leaves me with the pain of being silenced and doesn't mean a fucking thing to whoever does this. It's very difficult to describe what it feels like to be on the receiving end of this. How about I share an experience of mine? One of the few cases in my life where I burst into tears in front of a crowd of people and started crying uncontrollably was when White person (a sociology major!) told me (about racism, mind you), "We already know this stuff."

I am incapable of responding rationally to that shit. When you do shit like that, this is one of the things you're triggering for me. The response would be similar to what you would get if you told a sexual assault survivor that you know about rape and sexual abuse because you used to work at RAINN. If that's not what you're going for, don't do this to me. If you have done this to me, you probably owe me an apology because you hurt me more than you think you did and definitely more than I trust you enough to tell you.

(And before somebody jumps down my throat about not comparing the trauma of racism to the trauma of sexual abuse, do not fucking go there. I speak from experience, and that's all the fuck you need to know.)

Just tell us what to say! Tell us what to do!

The problem of course with White men is we've just got to have an answer. We never just say, "Hmm, I dunno, let's look that up. [...] We're the authority. "I'll tell you even though what I'm telling you is total crap."

--Tim Wise (at 1:21:10)

As HAL 9000 would say, "I can't do that, Dave."

Which of the following is more likely?

A. I'm deliberately keeping this information secret.
B. I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to race.
C. I lack the drive to find out how.
D. There are no simple rules or simple answers.

In case you were wondering, the answer is D.

I have a vested interest in getting White people to stop doing some of the shit I talked about before. I have a powerful, personal stake in White people getting a fucking clue. If there is a magic combination of words and body language that would get you to that point where I can talk about racism with you and not worry about when you're going to fuck it up, I would use it. Trust me on this.

On "false accusations" of racism

Sometimes, even after you’ve given it serious thought, you’ll come to the conclusion that a criticism was unfair. Great! Now please let it go. Don’t insist that everyone agree with you. Don’t enlist the people of color in the room to certify you as Officially Non-Racist. Don’t bring it up again and again, weeks or months after everyone else has forgotten about the original discussion.

--Ampersand, How Not To Be Insane When Accused of Racism

You would think that, for a White person, the main question they have about participating in That Conversation would be: How do I not fuck this up?

But it's not.

The question they usually want answered is: What do I do if a person of color -- fuck it, let's be honest -- what do I do if one of those evil loudmouthed Black bitches says that I did something racist?

I honestly don't get this. I mean, if I were cleaning your house or cooking soul food, you'd listen to me about without a problem. But when it's That Conversation, suddenly everything I say is suspect? When it's That Conversation, White people seem ready and eager to write us off as crazy, stupid, lazy, and/or evil. It won't be those words, of course. But that's what the arguments would boil down to.

It sucks to be accused of doing shit you didn't do. Nobody's denying that. Innocent Black people have been accused of wrongdoing too, with consequences way more serious than our feelings getting hurt (Ask my uncle why he doesn't have front teeth). I had a classmate in middle school (a White girl) threaten to kick my ass because someone else played a prank on her and said I stole something from her purse. So I know what it's like to be accused of doing stuff I didn't do and made to feel unsafe because of it.

Yet, sometimes I do the wrong thing. Sometimes I'm careless. Sometimes I hurt people. I don't mean to. I'm not a sadist. It still happens, though. At that point, my responsibility is to acknowledge the impact of my actions, not to defend my honor or prove my innocence.

The vast majority of the time, that's what a "false accusation" of racism is -- someone reminding you that what you just said or did brought something hurtful, even harmful, to their interaction with you. At that point, it's not about That Conversation being productive for you but for you not causing pain to another human being.

And that's what it's all about, really -- being better at being whole human beings. It's hard to do that when we keep playing the same roles and the same rules.

Helping each other out: Indie Theater Companion

Now that diversity in theater is (again) the topic of conversation (at least until people get tired of it and decide to focus on more important things), here's a chance to do what I talked about here. Remember when I talked about acting like an advocate and not a networker? Indie Theater Companion gives you a chance to do just that. Get more info about it here.

questions and answers

Mariah has a bunch of questions for us playwrights and admin types, which means I should probably answer since I follow 2AMt on Twitter and spam them with my stuff.

1. Playwrights: have you ever had a play produced as a result of submitting it to a theater with an “open submission” policy? (And if you submitted it to Theater A, and Theater A did a reading of it, to which a rep from Theater B came, and Theater B produced the play, that doesn’t count.)

Nope. Every play I wanted to do I had to put it up myself. I explain why in more detail below.

5. Playwrights: how vital do you consider readings and workshops to your process? Do you feel it actually improves your play? When it works, why does it work? When it doesn’t, why doesn’t it?

I consider readings an important part of my revision and rewriting process. There's something about hearing the words out loud and seeing the action in real time. I wouldn't say it improves the play so much as reveal it. Until some actors get their hands on it, I don't have a firm idea of what I'm really working with.

7. Playwrights: do you agree with Itamar Moses that it’s more productive to get artistic directors, rather than literary managers, to see your work? Or have literary managers/departments actually been responsible for your work getting produced? Or have both been the case at different times?

As far as I'm concerned, gatekeepers are gatekeepers. I believe it's more important for those gatekeepers to be aware of what they're bringing to their understanding (or misunderstanding) of particular works and how that impacts what they consider stageworthy. My solution has been to ignore them altogether and pursue self-production because, based on what the people who'd be able to open those doors have not been telling me, it'd be a waste of my time to bother with them.

10. Playwrights: do you find that doing rewrites in rehearsal/preparation for a reading or workshop is preferable/more productive to doing rewrites in rehearsal for a production?

Generally I prefer doing rewrites between performances (of whatever type). Each of the 3 readings of Tulpa had a VERY different script. For me, that works very well because it's easier for me (and people who follow my stuff) to follow the evolution of a particular play.

on ticket pricing (now with ninjas)

With the back and forth between 2amt and Parabasis going on, I suppose the discussion about ticket pricing is now officially an Important Topic, so I did some reading and now feel comfortable enough to jump in.

People had a lot of thoughtful commentary about pricing models and artistic vision and blah blah blah. But none of them mentioned the most essential element of ticket pricing.

Ninjas.

I know what you're thinking. What the fuck kind of non-sequitur is this, RVCBard? C'mon, we're discussing Something Really Serious And Important, and all you can say is fucking ninjas?

Let me ask you something. When was the last time you saw a ninja at your show? Exactly! You're not supposed to see them because they're doing what ninjas do best - remain invisible.

Guys, you're missing out on a tremendous opportunity here. Do you know how many ninjas can fit inside a 30-seat black box theatre? Lots. Especially under the seats and on the ceiling. I know because they sent me secret messages telling me so. You know what else they tell me? That they've been watching you very closely. And when you do something they don't like, they use the deadly art of ninjutsu to kill audience members to prevent them from seeing your show. So that's where the shuriken and dead bodies are coming from.

So, theatre blogosphere: WHERE ARE YOUR NINJAS?

When is a Blog? (h/t SisterToulja and Matthew Freeman)

I stole the fuck outta this title.

In any case, I follow Sister Toldja (The Beautiful Struggler) on Twitter, but I should've been reading the blog all along. She brings up a really interesting phenomenon when it comes to integrating social media:

Say I tweet the name of an article or post along with a link to it (I.E. “New Post: OMG! The Black Male Marriage Crisis: http://bit.ly/cYz0mJ)  I do this, of course, in hopes that people will read said post. Seems clear enough. There’s a link. It says “New Post”. Sounds like an invitation to click said link and read, right? Well, folks will sometimes bypass that step and attempt to engage a discussion about what they are assuming the piece is about (“@sistertoldja There is no Black male marriage crisis. Where did you get that from?”)

Even if they have figured out my thesis in 140-characters, why would I spend an hour writing something, only to then spend a bunch of time on Twitter debating it with people who haven’t read it? [. . .]

Another little kink in an otherwise great online existence: folks who DO take the time to read what I write (also known as the best people on the planet) will then take to Twitter and send me questions or comments regarding something I’ve taken on. And I don’t mean “@sistertoldja: I really enjoyed today’s post! Gave me something to thing about”.  I mean probing questions about the post or 4-tweet-long responses.  This is bothersome for a number of reasons (Sister Toldja, "The Twitter/Blogging Comment Problem")

I can understand where Sister Toldja's coming from. I've had this blog for - what? - 2 years now, and I don't think I'm popular enough to even be a micro blog. I just started using Twitter this year, and I'm still kicking myself for not doing it earlier (especially with my 70ish followers). I'm finally starting to "get" how to integrate my blog and Twitter in a way that benefits both.

While this would seem to only be a concern for the blogging Big Leagues, it does bring to mind something I might have to contend with on Ars Marginal. I'm not particularly worried about it, but it's worth sparing a thought or two. At the very least, it would be advantageous to outline the type of discourse you want to have on your social media.

For me, personally, the emphasis is on the social. I don't blog or Twitter for the fuck of it. Social media allow me to be social in a way that is comfortable for me. I am extremely introverted (not the same as shy). Being around people - especially if that means spending a lot of time around new people - is always stressful for me. I can hide this very well for a limited time, but it eventually catches up with me. Wanna see me get really uncomfortable really fast? Surround me with people I don't know, expect me to socialize, then abandon me. It takes more than a name and a pitch to warm me up socially. That "mean" or "angry" look on my face is more than likely extreme discomfort.

Social media allow me to control the pace and intensity of social interaction. They don't supplant my need for face-to-face conversation and meatspace relationships. They're simply a way for me to be social in a way that's not as taxing for me.

Which brings me to this blog and EclectiCopy. What would I like to see more of? How can I encourage that?

Honestly, I would like to see more proof that people are listening. I get comments every so often from my hardcore followers, but if they were the only people I wanted to hear from, I would e-mail them and be done with it. I post here because I want to connect with other people through mutual engagement. As you may (or may not) know, I despise debate when it comes to things that really matter insofar as it's about interpersonal relationships (as opposed to changes in policy - which is definitely worth a thorough hashing-out). But I'm always open to engagement. Fuck, the whole of Tulpa, or Anne&Me is engagement.

How do you prove you're listening? Obviously, leaving thoughtful comments is always welcome, as is writing thoughtful blog posts in response to something I said. Don't forget Twitter! As someone who lurks a lot, that's something I do pretty regularly when I don't have anything to add but still want people to know about it. If you come across a conversation where something I wrote seems relevant, post a link.

But if you want to interview me after I've been shanked by an Anne Hathaway fan, I am available via e-mail and Google chat.

(When you link to one of my blog posts, use the Create A Link function because Blogger doesn't like to leave me trackbacks for some reason)

In which I get some press

Check me out!

Whoopeeeee!

Ars Marginal: arts and entertainment for the rest of us

I've started up a new blog, Ars Marginal. I'll still be posting here, but I'll be active there too.

Right now I'm looking for other people who'd want to contribute. Don't worry. It doesn't have to hurt.

Fandom really sucks sometimes

I gotta get something off my chest right quick:I participate in fandom. Can't help it. I'm a nerd.

And if you thought corporate America was a cesspool of head-up-the-ass privilege and soul-crushing oppression, you haven't seen the depths to which fandom can go. At least corporate America has the decency to lie about not being sexist, racist, homophobic, transphobic, and full of class elitism. At least you could say that in corporate America, it's all about the Almighty Dollar and the Bottom Line, so you can kind of sweep all the shit they do under that particular Umbrella of Evil.

But fandom - oh, man! Not only are people not making any money off fandom (so have less excuse to put people through that shit), but oftentimes the whole point of the way they indulge in fucked up oppressive dynamics is part of the fun. It's not like gangs where the different oppressions keep to their turf for the most part: racism over here, sexism over there, homophobia and transphobia a few blocks down, ableism by corner. Oh, no! It's not that fucking nice! Those fuckers hang out in clusters. When you see racism, you can bet your ass that sexism (fuck it - let's just say misogyny) is on its way. If you get a glimpse of trans fail, you may as well don your anti-homophobia suit because the anti-queer shit is right around the corner. And despite its "handicap," the ableist train is never late.

And the most fucked-up Jedi mind trick in all this is that no matter how clearly you can see it and point it out and explain it . . .

• They didn't mean to, so it doesn't count
• You weren't polite about it, so it doesn't count
• There are More Important Things To Talk About, so it doesn't count
• You're obviously paranoid (aka "sensitive"), so it doesn't count
• They never heard it before, so it doesn't count
• You didn't cite your sources, so it doesn't count

And even when it does count, you bring it on yourself by . . .

• Dressing like that
• Talking about that
• Thinking about that so much

Don't you know? It's far more important that you don't harsh the squee than it is for you to feel included like other human beings.

It's not censorship if I do it!

Yes, comment moderation is on, but not for why you think. For a while now, I've been having to delete the strangest thing.

Someone with a Chinese name would post something in Chinese characters and leave a bunch of ellipses or something leading to nonsense websites. I don't know if this is a person or a bot (if a person, they have way too much fucking time on their hands).

So comment moderation is on (much to my chagrin, since babysitting isn't my choice of pastime) for the time being.

Mansplaining and theatrosphere

Mansplaining. I knew there was a word for it.

To be honest, I'm not interested in debating whether or not mansplaining is prominent in the theatre blogosphere. I think that's self-evident (with a few rare exceptions, such as James Comtois) because that's the society we live in. I don't think it's an accident that mansplainers tend to be cis male, White, straight, and able-bodied.

Considering the context in which this behavior emerges, and what that says about what's happening beneath the surface, it's pretty easy to imagine how that influences the current theatrical environment and its lack of space (literally and figuratively) for marginalized viewpoints and voices (with a limited exception for gay men because "theatre = gaygaygay!").

What's more important to me than pointing out mansplaining every time it occurs (of which plenty of examples can be found in the main text and comments of this article in the vein of "You Might Be A Redneck If . . . "), or even the overtly and subtly problematic nature of mansplaining is figuring out what to do about it.

Telling mansplainers to shut the fuck up on their own blogs is not exactly the best way to go about creating more meaningful dialogue not centered around mansplaining-centric norms. Off the top of my head, here are some things that can start right now:

• Contribute to blogs by and for women in theatre - particularly if you have not worked with them before. Drama Daily has an excellent list to start with.
• Ask women theatre bloggers to contribute to your own blog. (You mean women might have something worth saying that you didn't get to say first? Perish the thought!)
• Link to shows with one or more women at the helm. Artistic director, producer, playwright, director, whatever. The person making decisions should be a woman. Don't wait for a (male) critic or reviewer to tell you when a woman's work is worth paying attention to.
• Seriously, though: I'M RIGHT HERE!!!
• Risk something. Not a lot. Just something. Risk boredom. Risk offense. Risk a small amount of disposable income. Risk not feeling like it. Risk looking stupid. Risk not getting it. Risk the same things I risk when I go to a movie, see a show, or meet someone new.

If you feed them, they will come

99Seats has a post that started out being about the Digital Age but wound up talking about food. There's also mention of orgies.

This conversation, although currently seeming to wrestle with the purpose of theatre in the age of Twitter and iPhone, reminds me of some ideas I offered up a while back about how to get more butts in seats. Nevertheless, I find it's still relevant because what I hinted at (without really knowing it) was putting the liveness of theatre front and center instead of merely making it TV or film with four walls.

For me, debating whether our wired world is friend or foe to theater is sort of moot. We are in a wired world. That's it. There's nothing anyone can say to really change that (unless what you're going to say is, "I've invented a time machine, and it works.").

I'm more interested in figuring out how to take the world as it is to create new possibilities - which is what theatre does anyway. Like cgeye, I'm inclined to believe that "we have to start renegotiating the tacit contracts we've made with our audiences, and I don't know if we want to do that."

What are the "rules" we've set up for the actual act of going to see a play (no tardiness, no food, no walking around, no talking, no cell phones, no cameras - funny how these rules are all things you're not supposed to do)? What happens if we break them? What other live art forms can we take inspiration from (concerts, perhaps)? What other communal activities can we learn from (for example, church)?

I'll let you in on a little secret. I love going to the movies with a predominantly non-White audience - especially horror movies*. Know why? Because it's not just a movie. It's an event. If I just want to see the images on the screen, I'd be better served by watching it on DVD at home. But I want the full experience, and that experience includes popcorn, soda, candy - and people talking to the screen. To be very honest, sometimes the audience makes a shitty movie good just by their reaction. And sometimes a great movie becomes phenomenal when you get an "Oooooh, shit!" or a "Daaaaaaamn!" tossed in there. The third (fourth?) time I saw Return of the King was by far my favorite because of how people were reacting to it. The jokes some audience members were cracking had me laughing so hard, you would've thought I was watching Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail.

(* This is why MST3K never caught on with me - I did that shit anyway, although without the robots. Although I had toys. Did that count?)

But it's not just the audience either - it's the popcorn too! Things just don't feel complete without a little bag of corn-flavored air and grease to stuff into my mouth, followed by chocolate, Twizzlers, "fruit" candy, or some other high-calorie, low-nutrition substance. It doesn't have to be junk food per se - just something to eat. For some reason, perhaps because I'm a closet foodie or something, being without food and drink at a movie just feels wrong, so wrong that it's hard for me to focus on the movie because I keep thinking about how nice a bag or tub of buttery goodness followed by high fructose corn syrup with water in it. I can't figure out why that is, but I think it might be worth rooting it out.

Blackboard Reading Series and Agent 99

Went to the Blackboard Reading Series last night. Had a blast, met some great actors, came away feeling vindicated about the opening scene of Anne&Me (still hoping for death threats).

And 99 Seats does not turn a discussion about theatre into a chest-thumping roar about how Scott doesn't know what he's talking about. To which I ask: Where's the fun in that?

Against my better judgment

I know I shouldn't. I know it's a bad idea. But I can't help it. It's all Don's fault (and Scott's for being a censor)

So when I wrote this, I was Twittering about shoe shopping (which, naturally, I made unavailable).

Which is a fucking lie. Not just a lie, but a dumb lie. Anybody who's actually met me knows that shoe shopping isn't high enough on my agenda to talk about. Makes me wonder why the poor guy thinks people would believe that shit. Oh, right! That's what women do! Go shoe-shopping (like this one)! Nevermind that I just started my day job and had no income to buy shoes with after rent, food, and utilities. Oh, snap! That's right! Black women spend money they don't have on dumb shit, which is why their credit is all fucked up!

Then again, I am neurotic, so I guess all that bullshit is supposed to make sense.

I'm glad we sussed that out. Otherwise it was starting to look like Mr. Whatshisname is not only a racist, sexist asshole, but a lying racist, sexist asshole.

Whew, glad we got that out of the way.

Now that we're done with that, anybody wanna take bets on how long it'll take up my hater to drudge up "evidence", which then makes him into a lying racist, sexist, stalker asshole?

RIP Scott (The truth is out there)

Scott admits he's wrong about something. Like, twice.

I think it's now time to mount a full investigation to alien abductions, for it is clear that Scott Walters has been replaced by one of the pod people. To what purpose the aliens have made off with our favorite cantankerous professor out there in the boonies, I do not know. But I am certain that it must indeed be a nefarious plot by the NYLACHI powers that be.

Scott needs help

He's not raising hell like he's supposed to. Check out this post over at Theatre Ideas. And look at this post. Where's the indignation? Where's the outrage? Where's the call to tear down NYLACHI domination of American theater?

*shakes head*

Scott, you're losing your touch. I'ma pray for you.

Next thing you know, Don's gonna stop telling people to grow balls.

How to show yourself as a true ally (aka having discussions about race that don't turn to shit)

Over at Womanist Musings (with quotes):

"Too Hard on the White Folk"

There has never been a day that WOC have not had to fight for recognition of our worth and our humanity.  When we speak out against the exploitation, marginalization, and oppression that we face, we are called angry and summarily silenced.  No matter how many polemic blog posts I author regarding the systemic inequality in which we live, the hierarchy of beings will not change unless those who exist with undeserved privilege make a commitment to change.  To be silent is to accept that I deserve to be understood as a second class citizen.  My value shall not be determined by others so that they can benefit from my debasement based in race and gender; it shall be decided by me because I am an autonomous being who is worthy of being counted.  If you cannot accept a WOC who speaks her truth, then this blog is not for you.  I shall not be silenced in the space that I have constructed.

 "Pearl Clutchers and Straw Women"

The ironic part about this is, that this post isn't even angry.  I simply cannot be bothered to sugar coat my words to allow you to feel comfortable.  The entire world caters to you pearl clutchers ,and I for one need a break from the bullshit. Don't upset the fragile white woman, the mother of the great race.  God forbid there should be a tarnished spot on your pedestal.  Here let me spit shine that shit for ya.

 "What Is and Isn't Racist"

When we enter the spaces of those that we know to be socially marginalized the basic minimum requirement is that oppressor take the time to learn some basic 101 knowledge before engaging.  If POC continually have to educate whiteness on the ways in which they oppress it stops us from dealing with larger issues that need to be addressed.  The fact that someone even feels that they are fit to comment in these spaces and declare in opposition of the lived experience of a person of color is an expression of,….say it with me now, P-R-I-V-I-L-G-E.  I don’t need to hear your opinion, it will never contradict my 30+ years of dealing with racism.  I am not going to do the work for you and present stats, or papers because they are easy enough to find if you have the smallest amount of commitment.  I am going to tell you repeatedly every single time you invade my space with your ignorance to get your 101 on.  If I must spend my life learning how to protect myself against racism, the least that you can do is take the time to learn the basics.

"On apologies, ignorances, and condemnations"

Too often an apology is cynically used as a tool to silence marginalised people - you say sorry and that's supposed to be the end of it right? Never mind that there is still a complete lack of understanding. Never mind the lack of sincerity. Never mind the total indifference. Never mind the repeat occasions. never mind the hurt, the offence, the pain that has been caused. Never mind what this says about broader culture, society and the experience of marginalised people. Someone said sorry. We can end that discussion on racism/sexism/homophobia/transphobia/etc and move onto something the privileged person cares about. I mean, they said 'sorry' right? Oh my gods, what more do you marginalised folk want? It's like you want something to be about you for 5 minutes!

"You cannot attribute nonsense to god"

It is  NONSENSE to believe that a god is both perfect and jealous or merciful and wrathful. It is NONSENSE to believe a loving god would condemn people to an eternity of torture because of their sex life. It is NONSENSE to believe a benevolent being would want you to oppress or abuse people for ANY reason. It is NONSENSE to believe a compassionate god would want you to insult and attack people. It is NONSENSE to believe a perfect god would be so insecure as to advocate violence against those who do not follow him or who worship him in an incorrect fashion.

Over at The Angry Black Woman blog:


"The Privilege of Politeness"

I’ve noticed that when discussions of racism happen online the posts that go up in the aftermath, even some of the ones that address and acknowledge the issues of racism in the incident still say “They didn’t have to be rude about it. There was no call for it.” or “If they had just been more polite the person would have listened.” or some other variation (they of course referring to POC). What these people fail to understand is that if you’ve said something racist and fucked up you’ve already been rude to me. You’ve already offended me and ignorance is no excuse because you are a grown person, you can read, you can research, you can figure out how to treat people with respect and equality.

"We Have Feelings Too or The Cost of Being a POC in Race Discussions"

I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Now this might shock and/or offend some people, but I have to say that today is not a day when I give a fuck. Because when POC have teaching moments? It costs us. Sometimes a little. Sometimes a lot. It’s a sacrifice that we choose to make in an effort to improve things. It’s a moment (or more) out of our lives that we knowingly open ourselves up to things that any sane person would want to avoid under normal circumstances. Because there is no other option.

 "The Dos and Don'ts of Being a Good Ally"

"Things You Need to Understand"

Reflections and resolve

From now on, I will no longer publicly engage in discussions about race. I've been burnt too many times, and this week has been too damn much in this regard. I'll post to informative links, and I'll be available to talk via e-mail or 1-on-1 via Google Chat, but that's it. After nearly 3 decades of dealing with the same old shit, I've had it. I can't do it anymore and remain functional.

It's taken me a lifetime to start to build up my self-esteem and confidence - work I had to do as a direct result of the careless cluelessness of well-meaning White people. It's a lot bigger than this latest blow-up, something that many people, including people who agree with me, don't understand. Partly because I haven't told them, and partly because thinking about just how deep and vast the problem is . . . is really fucking depressing.

It gets to me, and it's still getting to me right now. The only way it won't get to me is if I stopped caring. I'd be less vulnerable, but my writing will be less true. And I refuse to do give that up for the off chance that somebody's finally going to get it. If something I said got through to you, I'm happy for you. Yet, while it's heartening to believe that I've made a difference in someone's life, I cannot live for other people.

"Well, duh!" some would say. But it's not so straight-forward as all that, especially when it comes to Black people (particularly Black women) talking about race with most White people who walk the middle road between outright bigotry and solidarity with people of color. To a certain degree, I blame Hollywood. But that shit doesn't come from nowhere, and it's related to a very fucked up pattern - one that I personally no longer have the fortitude to deal with while attending to more important and immediate things in my life right now.

So, this is going to be it for a good long while.

Sorta forgot this one

I should've linked to this before bringing up the R-word.