As a women-owned and operated small business, we pay tribute to the women who have come before us to make what we do possible. The theme is this year’s Women’s History Month is Writing Women Back Into History. As a company that believes that global compassion can be achieved when we all feel free to be our true creative selves within peaceful communities, we would like you to join us in celebrating the magic and power of women and girls to create this brand new world.
Here are just a couple of the MANY women whose stories have shaped us:
"One of my first theater projects was with a Girl Scout troupe in Phoenix where we had to imagine what it was like to live in a world where women couldn't vote. The girls exploration of this unthinkable reality was very moving to me." -Allison
"I co-created a play many years ago that was an adaptation of "Wilma Unlimited" by Kathleen Krull. I had heard her name before but her story finally hit me...that this disabled black girl from the segregated south overcome every possible odd to win 3 gold medals in 1 Olympics!" -Lynn
We’ll share more women throughout the month. And we would love to hear from you.
In celebration of Sesame Street’s 40th Birthday, I can’t help but think back on all of the shows that formed my childhood. I am definitely feeling old as I am having that “shows ain’t what they used to be” feeling going through my head. PBS was just on fire with shows like Sesame Street and Mister Rogers.
Okay. I know we are supposed to be celebrating Sesame Street, which I love and love the fact that it is still on TV for our kids after all of these years but…I LOVED Mr. Rogers. Have you seen him recently? Have you really listened to the lyric of his songs?
His lessons of peace and community and imagination and acceptance are mind blowing and nowhere else on tv or anywhere these days. A Fred Rogers quote:
“We all have different gifts, so we all have different ways of saying to the world who we are.“
I can’t stop crying today. I was just walking my dog listening to Off the Wall and I burst into tears. Again.
When I first heard of the death of Michael Jackson yesterday afternoon, my body responded as if someone told me that a personal friend had died. My heart sped up and I felt tingling over my whole body. I was trying to figure out why. I, along with the folks around me, kept saying things like:
“It’s the end of an era.”
“He has just been such a huge part of our cultural landscape that it’s weird for him to be gone.”
“It was just so unexpected…so sudden.”
All of these points explained the shock of the moment. But, where was the sadness coming from?
Then, a Facebook friend, a fellow educator, posted this video:
Then it hit me. I am mourning the loss of childhood. Mine, for one. I am 36 years old. Born in 1972. Off the Wall and Thriller were probably the 2 most important albums of my childhood. MJ posters adorned my walls. He completely defined pop culture to me and my entire generation and continued to do so well into the present.
I am also mourning the childhood that MJ never got to experience. Yes, in it’s place, he experienced meteoric fame and fortune. But, there was more than that. There was also the exploitation, manipulation, confusion, abuse, and discrimination. For any of us who have been paying attention, we saw the effects of this “childhood” on the rest of his 50 years on this planet.
I understand that Michael was a controversial figure. I, of course, know that he was accused of criminal acts upon children that I in no way condone.
However, this is all part of a larger puzzle. Because Michael was such a phenomenal cross-over pop icon, we forget that, at the heart of it, he was a black boy trying hard to grow up in America.
I cry for all the black boys today. For the beautiful boys who work so hard every day to overcome the cards they have been dealt.
Hate and fear and misconception are in the air and water for these beautiful black boys. And still, they wake up everyday trying to love themselves, to love others, and to find peaceful ways to make a contribution to a world that doesn’t seem to care about them.
Michael found his love and acceptance on stage. From his fans. That is where he felt the most comfortable. That is where is light was able to shine. And we all felt it. Every time we packed dance floors and didn’t stop ’til we got enuf. Every time that we sat in from of MTV in awe of the masterpiece that was the Thriller video. We understood that this troubled, feared, hated, and misunderstood all-grown up, black boy, was somehow an angel on earth. So many black boys don’t get to shine their precious lights at all.
The tears have started again. I am going to do my best to try to move on with my To Do List today as if things were “normal.” As I try to be a responsible adult and manage my business, I will try to do it as if our world hasn’t been completely turned upside-down by the life and death of Michael Jackson. And perhaps, “tonight, I will leave that 9-5 upon the shelf and just enjoy myself.”
Rest in peace, MJ.
For a good article further exploring the role of race in the legacy of MJ, check out Racism Review.
I am so grateful for the life of and saddened by the death of Augusto Boal yesterday. Boal’s work in bringing theater alive in all the spaces and places where humans live and interact is why I do what I do.
In every one of us there’s an actor – someone who acts – and a spectator, who watches the actor acting. We have the ability to watch ourselves doing things…
But we aren’t content, any of us, to be just actors and spectators of ourselves. We also write our own scripts for every scene we are involved in. We are in charge of the wardrobe of costumes to be worn wherever we are (at home, at work, during time off). We are also the directors who stage our own actions.
So every human being is a miniature theatre.…Please read more from this artist, humanitarian, visionary.
And celebrate the actor in you…your power to make something happen that hasn’t happened before.
