A City Divided
A DRAMATURGY CONFERENCE IN CHICAGO THIS past June, titled “Crossing Borders, Pt. 2: Action in a Time of Division,” addressed a history of segregation and Otherness in the city and beyond. The goal was to put participants in a solution-oriented mindset. As the convening’s local coordinator, I can speak to our good intentions and ethic of care. But I recall one moment that challenged us to consider how to hold ourselves accountable.
In one session, a panelist described themself as a “theatrical terrorist,” i.e., someone outside institutions pushing in, applying pressure. The house roared with laughter at the word “terrorist,” but I went from being the session’s moderator, sharing space and bandwidth on a mic, to a brown girl getting chased off the “L” train—as a person of Middle Eastern descent, that word hit me hard. I paused us for two beats and acknowledged the legacy of that word, and how it’s not to be taken lightly. Another breath and we continued.
I’m not arguing that this is enough, or even revolutionary. But something shifted in that hold-please moment.
Our field could use more moments like that. For no matter how much care and intention go into providing access for all people and their bodies, in the U.S. and the West we have a history of colonialism and systemic racism to reckon with. This reckoning manifests in various ways, and Chicago, for all of its demographic diversity, isn’t immune to the racism and (not so blissful) ignorance that plagues American theatres more
