Dear Daughter,
Having a grand time in New Zealand, but if you don’t stop fussing, we’re not sending any more postcards. Just remember that 70 is the new 30. Guess what’s hot in Queenstown? [reference to postcard photo — bungy jumping off the Kawarau Bridge] Sometimes in the nude! We tried it with our clothes on. A nice young man on the bridge held my cane while your father and I jumped holding hands. I had no idea your father could scream like that!
xxoo
Mom and Dad
Good morning,
My name is Chris DeLine, and I’m the editor for a local music site
called Culture Bully. Today we posted a rebuttle written written by one of our writers, Kyle Myhre, regarding Jason
Lewis’s discouraging comments on local Hmong artist Tou Saiko Lee. Kyle is also a local MC,
spoken word artist, and activist. I thought you’d be interested in
checking it out.
Thanks for your time!
We read with disappointment the open letter from Marcie Rendon — "The
Cost of Silence" — and several other online posts she has written
attacking our work with her on our recent production, Border Crossing.
In some of these communications she has gone to the unfortunate, and
offensive, extreme of describing our process as "racist." As the artistic directors of Off-Leash Area, we feel a responsibility to
address some of the concerns Marcie has raised.
We are a dance and movement theater company, and we work in a very
open, collaborative way with all of the artists who work with us — the
performers, the composer, designers, rehearsal directors, and a writer
if we engage one. Some of our shows have text, some have very little,
some have none. Marcie has worked with us twice before; she knows how
we work. As Artistic Directors, it is our job to bring all of these
elements together in the way we believe has the highest artistic merit.
Evidently stung by some of the editorial and artistic decisions that
are an unavoidable part of any creative process, and that are also well
within our contractual agreement, Marcie has chosen a regrettably
public venue in which to air her grievances, some of which we find
untruthful. Rather than exhaustively catalog our collective grievances
here, however, we would like to address a few of the charges we feel
are unwarranted.
1. Marcie commented that we removed the only Native American character
in the show, and so removed a significant part of her voice as a Native
American. What Marcie did not clarify is that the performer we hired
for this part fell down his stairs and fractured his ribs four weeks
before the show opened. Marcie helped us try to find a replacement, but
we were unable to do so, and with just weeks left in rehearsals, we
felt we had no choice but to remove this part.
2. Marcie stated that Off-Leash Area did not make any attempt to
publicize this show to the Latino community. On the contrary: Rosita
Balch, a Colombian human rights activist who worked with us in the
development of the show, contacted many Latino and human rights
organizations, personally emailing them, talking to them, and
distributing postcards. One of the Latino cast members translated our
press release into Spanish. Our marketing director sent press
information to his entire list of press contacts, which included
minority publications. A Latino cast member who works deeply in the
Latino community as a performing artist contacted the Latino press and
organizations he knows. We sent emails from the artistic directors to
minority press contacts and Latino organizations. We made every effort
we knew how to.
3. Marcie wrote that we took away the voice of the migrants by not
having them speak. Since we first began creating this show a year ago,
we decided to represent the migrants through the language of dance.
This statement is included in grant narratives written last summer — of
which Marcie was given copies. We are, after all, a dance and
movement theater company; much of our most effective work is wordless.
We believe the voice we gave to the migrants through dance is a
visceral, powerful voice.
4. Marcie stated that we did not engage the community of color in the
production. Our artistic and development team included a Colombian, a
Mexican American, an Argentine, a Puerto Rican, an Algerian American,
an African American, and two Jews. For our auditions we sent notices to
Latino organizations and Latino performers to spread the word that we
were especially looking for Latino performers. At the same time
contradicting herself, Marcie has registered her disappointment that
members of our multicultural cast were invited to comment upon all
aspects of the work, including the script. Strangely, this amounts to
claiming that the voices of minorities were suppressed by input from
too many diverse voices, a charge we can’t make enough sense of to
address.
We are sorry that our creative process on Border Crossing did not
satisfy Marcie’s wishes, but it was nothing if not inclusive, and one
would be hard pressed to read anything resembling racism into it. It
may be that her dissatisfaction stems from a lack of clarity in our
initial informal working agreement with her, and we resolve to better
define the nature of our collaborations in the future. We ask only
that our partners deal in truth, and not in allegation.
Sauced is run by John Conklin, a friend of mine, and is a great
addition to the Northside. I am, however, puzzled as to why John gets a
great review and my restaurant, Papa’s Pizza and Pasta, gets totally
ignored once again. We have been on the corner of 42nd and Thomas for three
years, and are still the best kept secret in Minneapolis. We offer East
Coast Italian American cuisine and have quite the following. However,
getting the word out that we are here is a full time job. When you
mention other restaurants in the area and not us, it sure doesn’t help.
We offer food and service that is second to none, and yet we continually
get ignored. Stop by sometime and see what we have to offer. Mr.
Iggers, you were here a couple years ago and still we don’t exist. I find
that very puzzling.
Greetings from a former actual subscriber to The Rake.
I’m
not sure how I ended up at Ann Bauer’s blog tonight, but I enjoyed several
pages of it, and only quit reading as it’s long past time I was in bed!
I’d
like to challenge her on her attitude about cloth shopping bags,
though. Although I realize she was going for a humorous take on the
topic, I was disheartened by it.
I think I’m
a bit older than Ann—49 at my last birthday—and was in school
(Hamline) from ’76-’80, after which I lived in St. Paul for several
years, working at various restaurants as a baker, cook, and waitress. (I
finally escaped the business in the late ’80s; I make my living as a
classical singer.) I started shopping at co-ops in 1980, and those were
the days when you pretty much brought your own containers for
everything. I’m not sure they even offered shopping bags in the
earliest days of Mississippi Market, when it was on Selby, west of
Snelling!
Anyhow, as a child of the ’70s, the
idea of energy conservation always stuck with me, and re-using bags
(and avoiding excess packaging in general) always seemed like the
obvious "right" thing to do. I like to generate as little trash as I
can—not easy in America. Over the years, I’ve accumulated lots of
canvas bags, and always have one of two in the car. I still bring my
own containers for bulk stuff, like rice and beans, and spices. I have
a feeling of failure if I realize I’ve got to use a fresh, new plastic
bag to bring something home.
Now, though,
anyone can see that we’re drowning in those damned plastic bags! I mean
the extra flimsy ones that you get everywhere… and which are now
BANNED in increasing number of countries, and US cites here and there.
As the snow melted at last, right here in our fair metro, didn’t you
see bags floating about along the freeway? Didn’t you see them in the
trees? But beyond the Great Plains, haven’t you seen the horrifying
photos of the gigantic floating plastic HELLS on the oceans? who knows
where all those bags have come from… But they shall no longer come from ME.
Since
January, I’ve had a hobby (added to my previous hobby: avoiding corn
syrup): I don’t take bags from any retailer. Not Cub, not Macy’s, not
TJ Maxx. Not only that, I produce my fabulous nylon Acme sacs with a
flourish, flicking them open to the astonishment of all, and make a
little speech about my hobby—mentioning that I haven’t used a plastic
or paper bag in 4 months!
It’s actually been fun—largely because of these particular bags, which are extremely convenient and light.
If Ann will tell me where I could do so, I’ll happily send her one in an
effort to change her mind about taking a bag with her wherever she
goes. I keep mine on my keyring (or in my purse).
Next,
I’ll tell you about my other hobby: never accepting another disposable
cup or styrofoam to-go container! But that’s for a separate email.
Best regards, Maria Jette
p.s. Ann mentioned somewhere that she has children—that should make her
all the more interested in cutting down on trash in the environment. I don’t have any… but can’t bear the thought of sticking future generations with my plastic bags!
Thanks for reprinting the 2003 WSJ Opinion piece. I
remembered it, but couldn’t recall the source. I may print copies and
hand them out the next time I go to any performance in the Twin Cities. A
couple of weeks ago, Jorja Fleezanis performed Elgar’s Violin Concerto
with the Minnesota Orchestra, which was conducted by the regal Sir Neville
Marrriner. I gladly stood to applaud as Jorja Fleezanis received a magnificent
bouquet of tulips following her equally magnificent performance. It truly was
a lifetime event for her and merited a standing ovation. But….not every
performance of the Minnesota Orchestra, not every traveling production that
shows up at the Ordway, pleeeaase.
I am writing this letter as an apology to people who have migrated here
from Mexico, Central America, and South America. I am Anishinabe, indigenous to what is now called Minnesota. I am also a playwright.
Within the last year I was approached by a production company, OffLeash
Area, to write a play with them called Border Crossing. It was my
understanding this play would address the inhumane issues people
confront when entering the United States.
As a Native American,
I am interested in the stories of the indigenous people of this
continent we call Turtle Island and the peoples of what is now known as
South America. I am interested in the impact the building of the wall
between Mexico and the United States has on Native Nations whose
reservations created by the United States straddle this man-made
border, also made by the United States. That is part of the story I had
hoped to tell. In November ’07, I did research for a week in the Sonora
desert southwest of Tucson on the Tohono O’odham Reservation. I had
hoped to include a very strong voice for Indigenous people in this
piece. I had hoped to include a very strong voice for Migrant people in
this piece.
In my interviews with people I heard stories of inhumane treatment.
I heard stories of a sea of sorrow — a desert littered with the bones
of people trying to get here for a better future for themselves and for
their future generations. I heard stories of joy, hope, survival, and
celebration.
I am writing this apology because this is not the story that is
being told in Border Crossing. It is not your story, and your voice has
been removed from the piece. I wrote dialogue for native peoples. That
dialogue was cut. I wrote dialogue for the characters crossing the
desert. That dialogue was cut. I argued to give voice to the oppressed.
My voice was silenced. I am sorry. I understand any anger on your part
where you would question why I, as a Native American, would have
thought that I could tell your story.
If you have questions or comments to me, I am open to dialogue.
Miigwitch
On a Saturday afternoon you can run many errands. One great example is
tasting the many cheeses at Surdyks and even sample some wine. My
roommate and I did just this.
After spending an hour of doing this and hunting for two nice bottles
of wine, it was time to check out. I was then asked for my I.D., which
I was happy to give up. I am 31, and getting asked for identification
is getting less frequent. The worker then asked for my roommate’s I.D.
When he realized that he didn’t have his, the transaction was
cancelled and we left empty handed. When I spoke to a manger named Rob. He informed me [rudely] that he can’t change the law and that
they can be fined. I also found out that the best thing to do is lie
about who you are shopping with, if anyone at all.
Surdyk’s tagline should be, "Drink our wine for free, but if you don’t lie to us, you can’t buy it."
One side-note: The wine sample worker was not asking for identification.
I will not be returning to this store ever again—and I will not be
bringing my mom there as I do dozens of times a year. It is a shame
that the laws are as they are. But, it is more of a shame that a store
with great products promotes lying and allows a manager to treat an [of
age] patron with rudeness.
Dear Mom and Dad,
How two people who still use a rotary dial telephone dare claim to be the "new 30" is beyond me. And that old red Chrysler you drive is so ancient I actually saw one in the museum! You’d better behave yourselves when you’re in Paris in April. No singing in the rain, no dancing, no jumping; don’t lose your heads. As for you, Mom, keep that cane with you at all times — one end in your hand and the other on something solid.
xxxo
your loving daughter