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Creating Community
Based Dialogue PAGE 4 Claire enters with wrapping paper, gifts and a bottle of Scotch. She sits in her living room, wrapping brand-name Christmas presents and getting drunk. As she wraps, she rehearses firing people, visualizing them in front of her. The Line Supervisor has also entered. He carries a bamboo whipping cane. Claire: I'm learning to hate Christmas. It's getting harder and harder every year. Look at this. Do you know how much this cost me? $110. She's only 14. "But mom, it's got to be Tommy." Line Supervisor: You are here today because this line has not made quota. And this line has not made quota because this lazy 14- year-old girl refused to work unpaid overtime. Get up. Get up, move it, you stupid bitch! Sit on the crate. Claire: How do you lay off 250 people? Bryce, please come in, sit down. The management has had to make some tough decisions. We're going to be doing some...restructuring. In order to serve our shareholders better, you're out of a job. So, here's your severance pay and your Christmas bonus. Merry Christmas, Bryce. Line Supervisor: This person doesn't care if this factory stays in this country or not. This person doesn't care about the rest of you and she doesn't care if you make your quota. We have contracts with very important companies. And if you don't fill your quotas, (he whips her on the back) we can't fill our contracts. And if we can't fill our contracts, then you'll be out of a job. Claire: For my son, Eddie. Age 9, $168 (Nike running shoes). 'But mom, I can't play the game without these.' Maggie, we're hoping that this will be a chance, no, an opportunity for you to take the next step into the first day of the rest of your life. I know that you're 58 years old, but what the hell! Merry Christmas Maggie, and a happy fucking New Year! Line Supervisor: (He whips her on the back) Working here is a privilege. People pay us to work in this factory. If you don't want to work here, just let me know and I will find somebody else who does. (He whips her on the back) As the scene plays out the Line Supervisor insists that the girl agree, in a loud voice, that she wants to keep her job and that she will work harder. Having done so, she joins the other workers again. The Joker enters and releases the audience members back to their seats. The actors, except Nikki, exit. The house lights go back down. Nikki talks to the audience, explaining that she once had a good job at Andrew's company. We hear how quickly her money ran out, how impossible it has been to find a job competing with the other 250 people who were laid off. We see her unable to cope. Finally, shattered and in tears, she says, "So don't tell me I should be more organized. Don't tell me I'm supposed to be fighting back. Because I'm busy. Surviving. Adapting. I have a little girl." Nikki goes home. Her eight-year-old daughter Mia watches TV alone. The TV is her baby-sitter, played by an actor whose face protrudes from an empty TV set topped by large rabbit ears. Together they sing the Britney Spears song, "Hit me baby, one more time." The TV dangles objects in front of Mia, who wants all the things that Nikki cannot afford. We see Nikki trying her best as a single mother, struggling on welfare. But without the skills to cope, she has become very isolated. As the scene escalates, Mia goes into a tantrum, spurred on by the TV. Nikki loses it and throws Mia across the room. Then, in a panic, Nikki runs out the door, leaving her daughter frightened and alone. The TV beckons the girl back, asking to be turned back on. The scene ends with Mia's hand extended, reaching for a war toy. Nikki is back at her corner. Claire leaves the building, re-encountering Nikki. Again, there is no escape. Nikki notices that Claire is very upset. Having just completed her 250 lay-offs, she has now been fired by Andrew, who had lied about protecting her job. Nikki offers Claire tea from her thermos, and, feeling very out of place, she joins Nikki on her blanket. For a few moments, they are friends, until Nikki explains to Claire how to survive: where to get free food, clothes, etc. Panicking, Claire leaps up from the blanket. Claire: Well, I am really glad that the Union Gospel Mission hands out bread to the people who need it. But I am not going to wait outside some church in a soup line waiting for free handouts! Nikki: I know, I know. It's hard the first couple of times... Claire: There isn't going to be any first couple of times. That can't happen to me. Nikki: Well, it happened to me! I never thought that I'd end up on the street panhandling. You think you're better than me! Claire: I'm going to get a job. Nikki: Oh, really? Claire: I have to get a job. [Andrew enters. He passes both women. He stops, turns, looks at both of them in silence for a long time. He leaves. Claire and Nikki look at each other.] Claire: I'm sorry, Nikki. [Claire runs away. Nikki sits.] Nikki: Spare some change? This is the end of the play. As the Joker in these Forums, I had to find a way to work with the audience to take the microcosmic intervention in a human moment and translate it into action on the global stage. This was accomplished by asking the audience a simple question after each intervention: "We can see the human moment here between these two characters. Now I want you to imagine, though, that they are no longer people, but nations. Does this intervention translate? If so, how?" Almost always the translation could be made. I limited this discussion to short comments, knowing that the more talking we did, the fewer interventions there would be, but it worked very well. Here are some examples of the interventions in Corporate U. A man from Argentina yelled "Stop!" replacing Nikki in the first scene after Claire has fallen over her and bags are everywhere. He screamed at Claire for not looking where she was going, and kicked each bag up in the air and across the street! It was both very funny and profound. Of course the audience howled, but then we were able to get into a discussion about the invisibility of the poor - both individuals and nations - and what it would mean if "the poor" really were able to express their anger. This also led to a quick conversation about how the World Bank imposes manipulative "concessions" to loan restructuring and foreign aid. Many people intervened on Andrew's behalf in the contract-signing scene, trying to re-arrange the deal. Some really knew what they were doing, and sometimes could even get Mei-Ling to agree to think it over because they were able, in concrete terms, to explain how investing in people would translate into profit. This different imagination of how to do business led to conversations in the theatre about real small and medium-sized companies in Vancouver that refused to engage in the "bigger is better" dominant model. One person who replaced Claire in the gift-wrapping/caning scene worked the monologue into a boycott situation. This opened up a great discussion about the pros and cons of boycotts. The workers in the sweatshops need these jobs, some said; they don't want boycotts, they want to work and be treated with respect, not for the companies to move somewhere else. How can we affect this from North America? One of the most poignant interventions happened on the night of the live tele/web cast. A young woman from China struggled with English in a way that suggested she was a fairly recent immigrant. She pleaded in the sweatshop scene for Canadians not to try to shut down sweatshops in developing countries, but instead to start legitimate businesses there. She spoke of working in a factory, learning firsthand about human rights abuses. She cried, asking for Canadians to give their expertise. Her courageous presence on the stage grounded the play that night in a harsh reality. Then one of the Web actors ran into the theatre yelling, "Stop! I have an intervention from Sasa in Croatia!" This was an important moment in this project on globalization issues, demonstrating that we have the technology for global dialogue: it is also in our hands, not only the hands of the corporations. We don't know how many people saw Corporate U that night: at least 50,000 with the television broadcast and possibly hundreds of thousands on the Web. This was an example of what a small group of people can do to put art "out there," creating dialogue, an essential ingredient of healthy relationships and healthy communities. Reaching Across As a response to events of September 11, we thought it would be a good idea to reach out into the local Muslim community. Phone calls led us to the head of the Muslim Youth Centre in Surrey, just outside Vancouver and a wonderful collaboration happened. The two hour event was called Reaching Across. There was no play, no actors and no script. Our desire was to create safe and creative space for two nights where people could come together to use the language of the theatre to explore the fears and desires that have surfaced between the Muslim and non-Muslim communities, and find ways to "reach across" the fear. Admission to the two nights was by donation and all proceeds went to the Muslim Youth Centre. Graphic artists donated a graphic. The Muslim Newspaper donated ad space. Other community papers did stories. The Croatian Cultural Centre donated space. Even the local butcher where the Muslim community buys its meat was handing out flyers with each purchase! We used Boal's technique called Rainbow of Desire in which audience members populate the stage as characters that represent various, internal voices of fear and desire inside one person's (the story-teller's, or Protagonist's) head. I also develop a "rainbow" for the Antagonist and then use the exercise to peel the layers of complexity away from what has become a largely symbolic moment for the community. During the two nights, one in Surrey and one in Vancouver, about 170 people attended. The story the first night was offered by a youth. He is sitting watching the news with his parent. They have a screaming disagreement about US foreign policy - not for the first time. They walk out of the room in separate directions. The second night focussed on a woman's story: On September18 she had put a peace sign on the door of her apartment. A delegation from the building knocked on her door with a petition, signed by everyone in the building, saying the symbol was disrespectful to the families of the victims in NY and insisted she take it down. The audience understood these moments in many ways. Certainly they were at the heart of many conversations I had had and heard about in the months of September/October, 2001. During the event we investigated with great care both sides of the equations. Muslims and non-muslims worked and played together on the stage, switching roles, investigating fear, desire, assumptions, presumptions. We used the theatre in a very grassroots way, responding to current events in the moment, and in so doing helped people see and hear "the other" through different eyes, while our Government made preparations for war. In the process we raised almost $500.00 to help support safe space for Muslim youth to gather in hostile times. And so these are three examples of using theatre to create dialogue. One thing all three projects have in common is consent. Consent, not only from leaders of organizations, but from individuals at a very grassroots level, moment to moment. Whatever methodologies we use, whatever partnerships we develop, the ingredient of consent is primary. Monologues happen without our consent in both local and global arenas. If we are to truly invest in community development, in dialogue creation, in a struggle against the negative impacts of globalization and in an honest struggle against terrorism, whatever we do must be with this kind of grassroots consent. There are full reports on these and other projects, including the Squeegee Legislative Report on our web site: www.headlinestheatre.com.
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