Canción del Cuerpo

Last Thursday, I attended the final Dress Rehearsal of Canción del Cuerpo [Song of the Body], the Dance Repertory Theatre's Spring Concert at the University of Texas at Austin. The concert featured UT dancers and members of El Colegio Del Cuerpo de Cartagena de Indias, "Colombia's first Contemporary Dance choreographic formation center, a dance school for disadvantaged children, and a professional dance company" (source). The concert included pieces featuring the two groups separately and combined, and was a culmination of an extended creation process including an exchange where UT students visited and worked in Cartagena, Colombia, and members of El Colegio Del Cuerpo visited our campus and worked here.

The first piece featuring the El Colegio Del Cuerpo members was the 4th "song" of the evening. The curtain had closed following the previous piece, and it opened several minutes later to reveal four men standing full front to the audience, and about a dozen wooden frames filled with red rose petals arranged in a grid on the floor of the stage. The men were wearing short, low-waisted black spandex shorts and long, full, sleeveless robes which were open, revealing the fronts of their bodies.

And then, the young woman sitting in front of me said - rather loudly - "Wow - I want to go to Colombia!"

Wow, indeed.

Now, I will not say that I was not impressed by these dancer's bodies - they had obviously been working and training intensely for a long time. It is also out of the ordinary (at least in university dance pieces) to see so many male bodies on stage at once - indeed, so many male bodies of color - and with so much bare skin. The distribution, in my experience at several universities, is typically very white and very female, with female bodies baring more skin than the male bodies.

However, it is one thing to recognize the dancer's body (which is, undeniably present), and quite another to announce one's desire to, well, colonize someone's country in your conquest for sexual gratification. So many things raced through my head: how could this privileged, white woman attending a university - and with enough money to get blond highlights in her hair and go to a tanning salon - make such a comment? And to announce it so unapologetically? I only hoped that her words did not carry to the stage, were artists were about to commence a carefully crafted performance.

And again, I concede that a woman expressing desire for a man could be seen as an interesting claiming of erotic agency. But she did not say, "Wow - they are hot!" What she did do was make a statement which equated these men with the entirety of their country, which made Colombia into a place of sexual conquest and tourism, which fetishized these artists into objects for sexual pleasure and effaced the work of their training and preparation for the concert, which perpetuated the placement of the erotic within an "Othered" Latinidad, which assumed herself as a desirable companion for all Colombian men, and which reified her place of privilege, specifically as a young, (what society deems an) attractive, white, affluent American.

With this one comment, the work of everyone involved in the concert seemed to be discarded. Indeed, the stated project of the performance and of El Colegio Del Cuerpo is very different than that which this woman experienced (or, at least, that which she expressed). Elissa Marshall, one of the UT students involved in the exchange wrote on the Department of Theatre & Dance's blog that, "It [the project] has made me realize the privilege I have been born into and has made me more motivated to help those in need. To whom much is given, much is expected and I truly understand that right now." Challenging assumptions and subject positions are some of the main benefits of educational and cultural exchanges (i.e. studying abroad); unfortunately, and not surprisingly, the woman sitting in front of me did not gain the same perspective through the performance.

Álvaro Restrepo is the co-director of El Colegio Del Cuerpo de Cartagena de Indias and was a guest choreographer for the concert. In the promotional materials for the concert, it was written that "[t]hrough his work with Afrodescendent communities, Restrepo’s dedication to his art becomes a vehicle for exploring human rights, race and social justice."

It is interesting that this is written of Restrepo, who choreographed the 4th song with the members of El Colegio Del Cuerpo. This quote is addressing the project of the company, which is to provide an alternative to the crushing unemployment and poverty of Cartagena. When put in conversation with the 4th song, however, I found this quote puzzling. During the piece, there was an extensive section where a female dancer entered the stage and did a section interacting with a frame, seemingly trapped by it and trying to break free. She then moved from one male dancer to another, connoting sexual interactions; while the interactions began in a mutual space, they moved - and dwelled - in a place of coercion, of force, of rape. Her body was thrown from male to male where she was groped and exposed.

The female dancer entered (if memory serves) two more times, very separate from and often secondary to the actions of the males. Once, she wore a long red dress and held an open red Chinese-style umbrella [this is perhaps not the best wording, but I am having trouble finding a better term] in front of her torso and head, walking very slowly along the periphery of the stage. The next time, she entered with the same umbrella, now closed, and walked to the center of the stage where she extended it upward and opened it, releasing a shower of white petals to the floor.

So, the piece began with a large section of the four male dancers performing, then the only female dancer in the piece entered as a victim of the frame, was made into a sexual object to be taken and passed around, and then she left, returning the focus to the four males. In the second half of the piece, she was used to create what seemed to be Orientalist spectacle, while the male dancers performed the main "text" of the performance.

I do not doubt that there are meanings and narratives which I am missing for the 4th "song." And, indeed, I am reading this performance conceived and performed by Colombian artists within my context as a white, U.S. American, feminist, activist PhD student/pedagogue/theatre practitioner. However, I cannot ignore the fact that the only female in the piece was first trapped by frames, then stripped of her agency and rights to her own body, and then used as a means of spectacle to accessorize male dancers. Whose human rights does this support? What social justice is achieved here? And what messages are being sent about race when men of color are portrayed as sexual aggressors, when a woman of color is a sexual object, and Orientalist imagery is used to decorate a stage?

Unfortunately, the marking of male bodies of color as different continued into the costume design for the final piece, which included dancers from UT and from El Colegio Del Cuerpo. This piece featured white female UT students in sleek, graceful, jewel-toned leotards with matching chiffon skirts, and Colombian males of color in earth-toned, balloon-y, fabric shorts made of bulky, rough fabric. [This was how I perceived the distribution of dancers in this piece; as it was a dress rehearsal, I did not receive a program, and could not verify this information.] While the females had lightly jeweled and trimmed accents to their costumes which were later removed, the males' removable pieces were bulky, geometric, simplistic belts. All of these choices seem to perpetuate a problematic binary between men of color as primitive and rough, and white women as civilized and fragile.

An article about the concert and exchange project quoted Álvaro Restrepo as saying, "[i]n the dance studio, you are valued for who you are and not what you have." I wish that this ideal had been applied to the characteristics of dancer's bodies when choices about choreography and costuming were made.

Note: I assume no knowledge of these individuals' sex or gender; all references should be taken as referring to the normative representations of cisgenderness commonly presented in concert dance.

What counts as terrorism?

I don't normally post others' work here, but this Letter to the Editor in the 2/22/10 issue of The Daily Texan (the student newspaper at the University of Texas at Austin) made an extremely important point. With two violent acts in the very recent past of Texas, it is vital to look at the different ways in which the events are characterized by the government, police, and the media - especially when the discerning factor seems to be race.

You can find this in its original context here.

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Call a terrorist a terrorist

It was very disappointing to pick up The Daily Texan on Friday and see “Officials say act was not terrorism” in big bold print on the first page. Media coverage of Andrew Joseph Stack’s suicide attack has been shocking to me, especially when compared to the media coverage of recent “foiled” terrorist plots and the coverage of the Fort Hood shootings.

Stack is being portrayed as a despondent man with financial trouble, angry at the government for the wrongs he perceived the IRS and Congress had done to him. The media has been careful to avoid calling Stack a terrorist, despite the fact that he flew a plane into a federal building that housed several hundred IRS employees.

Stack was a terrorist — he carried out a suicide attack on a federal building with the same weapon the Sept. 11 terrorists used, intending to kill innocent people and injure the government. Why balk at labeling Stack a terrorist? He was a terrorist. He carried out a terrorist attack that cost an innocent person his life.

Refusing to call Stack exactly what he was is irresponsible and dangerous. Just in the past day I have heard many people say that they understand where Stack was coming from.

Many have even said that the government is to blame — if taxes weren’t so high, maybe Stack wouldn’t have flown a plane into a building and killed innocent people.

This kind of thinking is, quite frankly, disgusting, and the media does the country a disservice by portraying Stack as anything but a dangerous, deranged terrorist who carried out a suicide attack on the American people.

Let’s denounce Andrew Stack and give him the label he deserves — terrorist. Refusing to do so only furthers the idea that terrorists can only be foreigners, Muslims, people with dark skin and funny names. Terrorists come in all shapes, sizes, colors and from all ideologies.

There are future terrorists listening to Glenn Beck and going to church every Sunday, just like there are future terrorists reading Qutb and going to mosque every day. Making “terrorist” a racial term only deepens the gap between Americans and Arabs.

— David Colby
Government senior

Consuming Racialized Beauty Art Exhibit

Last fall, I took the course Consuming Racialized Beauty with Professor Isabel Molina Guzmán of the Institute for Communications Research and Interim Director of Latina/Latino Studies at UIUC. The class culminated with an exhibit of art projects which we had developed at the Krannert Art Museum. There is also a blog for the exhibit and class located at http://consumingbeauty.vox.com/.

My piece was titled, "A Self-Reflexive Anthropological Journey through Time and Space: Or, How I Think I Got Here." [Yes, it's meant to be funny.] It consisted of six phases, each podium having two sides. Each phase had a placard which narrated important events and shifts in my life, specifically referring to the photographs, knick knacks, notes, and yearbooks as evidence of these claims.

The following was my Artist Statement for the piece:

As I think back on my childhood and young adulthood, I can think of many important moments which changed who I was from that point on: being on the picket line at age 7 during a teacher’s strike, wearing the Michael Jackson coat (red with zippers, etc.) my sister had gotten for her birthday, my dad telling my sisters and I that if we did not wear a skirt to church, we had to wear a tie (and so we did), losing a significant amount of weight due to health problems, my first romantic relationship, my first acting role – the list goes on.

These moments become particularly important when thinking about how I got to where - and to be who - I am today. The freedom which my parents allowed me in childhood removed the possibility of me ever accepting limits as natural or necessary. Hence, I still don’t obey restrictions, but rather, attempt to only recognize them to facilitate my subversion of them.

This piece is an exploration of those formative moments through artifacts such as pictures, souvenirs, notes, and my own art. By going through my past, I hope to understand my present and my future. I do not envision my current self as an end point, but merely one point along a road of making and remaking myself.

One trend which I found throughout the six stages in my piece (Infancy, Kindergarten – 3rd Grade, 4th Grade – 6th Grade, Middle School, High School, and Undergrad) was that I continually remade myself in reaction to (or against) my surroundings, my physical state, etc. This revisionary process does not mean that I retained nothing from phase to phase; actually, I found several seminal moments in my life which I believe have very much shaped all of my evolutions.

I chose to display this information about my life in the style of an anthropological museum piece about a person long since dead and of another culture and place because I wanted to invoke the irony inherent that we may ever objectively “know” anything about ourselves or anyone else. I can locate important moments, turning points, etc. in my life, but how I feel and think will effect what I choose and omit, as it would with any subject. So, it is with tongue firmly in cheek that I present these artifacts from my life for public viewing, complete with guiding placards referring the viewer to the “correct” evidence.

Note: I had considered making this a performance piece, or accompanying the exhibit as a docent of sorts; I ended up not doing this due to lack of time but also in keeping with my methodology. The way in which we consume museum exhibits full of artifacts with omniscient facts printed on placards is very different than when someone physically guides you through an experience. It seems more objective when removed from a physical body – the artifacts seem more like evidence and the placards seem more like indisputable truth when not filtered through a fallible being. So, for this particular incarnation of this work (I have plans to take this further!), I both deliberately and out of necessity chose to remove the performative element.

Jails, Hospitals, and Hip-Hop: Social Activism Theatre

This is an article I wrote for The Public i to be published in the April issue. It will also be available electronically at http://publici.ucimc.org/apr08.pdf.

The show will also have encore performances on Friday, May 2 in the Armory Free Theatre on the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign campus, and another at the TIMES center, date TBA.

For more information about the playwright, Danny Hoch, including excerpts of his writing, visit his site at http://www.dannyhoch.com/. I also highly reccomend the video of his piece PSA available at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTOf0Q61IX8.

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During the last week of March, the one-person show Jails, Hospitals, and Hip-Hop (JH³) by Danny Hoch was presented at spaces across the UIUC campus. Each performance was followed by a discussion with the director, Alex Berg-Jacobson, the Assistant Director, Keri Carpenter, and the actor, Chris Silcox. One night also featured several members from the local hip-hop community. All three are UIUC undergraduate students. Each discussion had a specific focus including Hip-Hop’s viability as an art form, social injustice on the campus and in the U.S., playing a role in social change, and exploring theatre’s role in this venture.

JH³ was published by Danny Hoch in 1997, but certain monologues are from older works, like Message to the Bluntman, which was written in 1994. Evoking the conventions of Anna Deavere Smith’s Fires in the Mirror and Twilight: Los Angeles, the piece is a thematic montage of three-dimensional characters embodied by a single performer. The roles span ages, ethnicities, dialects, languages, perspectives, and experiences.

The director’s commitment to social justice clearly informed the production. Berg-Jacobson’s note in the program states, “The only things that I was sure of [when proposing the show were] the potential that this brilliant play has to effect social change here on campus, and the power of last year’s forum, Racism, Power, and Privilege.” Encouraging and facilitating discussion after performances continued one of the main goals of both the forum and Hip-Hop — open critical engagement.

This critical engagement is also exercised by the characters in the piece. One instance is a light-skinned man who is in jail for selling Bart and O.J. Simpson t-shirts without a merchant’s license. He reflects on the false advertising of the “American Dream,” which is sold with images of young girls running lemonade stands on their lawns – no license required, of course. The prevention of his attempt to claim his piece of the “American Dream,” in combination with his arresting officer’s violent need to determine his racialized identity, inspires a more complex view of the legal system. As he states, “I’m not in prison because I’m a criminal. I’m in prison because I’m poor.”

The piece portrays the prison system as one which punishes the disadvantaged and dehumanizes its participants. From the white inmate encouraging a fellow inmate of color to plead guilty because of “how the system works,” to the prison guard at a mandated therapy appointment after almost beating an inmate of color to death, clear distinctions between right and wrong are not allowed. When the behaviors created by society are deemed wrong and then punished, who will defend the wrong/wronged?

The Big Bad Wongsta

This is my article from the March issue of The Public i about the work of Kristina Wong. The entire issue can be viewed online at http://publici.ucimc.org/mar08.pdf.

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Kristina Wong is a Chinese American solo performer, writer, actor, educator, activist, and filmmaker living in Los Angeles. She was an Artist in Residence at UIUC last year. Her work has been described as feminist, activist, hip-hop, and most often, hilarious. Her notoriety began with her creation of in 2000, the self-proclaimed “#1 mock mail order bride/Asian porn spoof site in the world!”

Wong created the Big Bad Chinese Mama website as a senior project when an undergraduate student at UCLA. She was motivated by the lack of safe spaces for Asian women on the Internet, a desire to increase her computer skills, and a thorough frustration with the inability of her Women’s Studies and Asian American Studies courses to enact the change they championed. While building the site, she copied the metatags from porn sites so searches for porn yielded Big Bad Chinese Mama. She also programmed the site to respond to feminist and Asian and Asian American activist searches. Hence, the guestbook dealt with the lack of which frustrated her most about academia—putting the “oppressed” in conversation with the “oppressor.”

Though the site is clearly informed by feminist ideas related to disrupting the male gaze, Wong was hesitant to adopt the label. To her, she was too much of a prankster to fulfill the role of “feminist.” Wong wrote in Catching a Wave, “On one occasion, a student put me on the spot and asked if I thought of myself as a feminist. I explained, ‘I don’t consider myself so much a feminist as I do an artist who believes that there is political power in the personal voice.’"

Wong has since reconciled with the term and her tensions about the label. As she defines it in the same anthology, “Third wave feminism is about embracing individual experience and making personal stories political. First and second wave feminisms sought to empower women as a united front. Although they offered a political voice for women as a whole, they didn’t acknowledge the varying agendas and experiences of individual women. Third wave feminism is a response by women of color and others who felt homogenized by a movement defined by the goals of middle-class, white women.”

Her projects include guerilla theatre characters such as Fannie Wong, Miss Chinatown Second Runner Up and the full-length piece “Wong Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” Wong crashes Miss Chinatown events dressed as Fannie, complete with a cigar, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, an acne-covered face, and horn-rimmed glasses. She approaches individuals there to meet Miss Chinatown and insists on giving autographs and taking pictures with these “fans” before security is called to remove her from the premises. In “Wong Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” Wong explores the alarmingly high rates of depression, mental illness, and suicide in Asian American women.

Wong’s very humorous and interventional tactics challenge popular conceptions of feminism, activism, and academia. In an interview for Asia Pacific Arts: The Magazine, she stated, “I look at what my work is doing to explore and question words like ‘activist,’ ‘feminist,’ ‘Asian American.’ For me, these are all words that I’m trying to stretch in definition through my work.” Addressing the intersectionality of identity and the specificity of experience are cornerstones of the Third Wave, as is using these themes to critique daily interactions and systems of power.

For more information about Kristina Wong and her work, visit www.kristinawong.com/ and/or request a copy of Cassidy’s thesis, which will be deposited in May.

Of "Metamorphoses" and Billboards

I saw Metamorphoses this week at the Krannert Center for the Performing Arts, and two particular moments in the play struck me as very problematic and hindered my enjoyment of the play.

For background, Metamorphoses is a play which includes many ancient myths. The story telling is focused around a pool of water on the stage, with the central metaphor of the piece being transformation.

One of the moments took place during the story of incest. I do not remember the character names (there are many characters in the play and there is an ensemble cast, so most of the names escape me), but in the story, the daughter has angered Aphrodite by not choosing a suitor. The goddess has taken this as an affront to love in general, and punishes the young woman with an insatiable sexual desire for her own father. The daughter ends up sleeping with her father several times through a deception of identity; he eventually discovers who she is and tries to strangle her. After this, the young woman literally dissolves into tears because her sorrow is so great.

The actress playing the daughter was a white woman, and the father was played by a black man. This casting was a result of the Department of Theatre's blind casting policy (a subject for another post), as genetically, this would not take place in reality. In addition to this reinforcing narratives about the threat of black male sexuality, the projections clearly illustrated what white women are supposed to desire.

There was a cyc, or screen, used as the backdrop for the entire show which aided in evoking the tone and/or setting for the stories. In this case, close-up photographs of exposed skin in differing states of titillation were the chosen images. Though often hard to distinguish, there appeared to be both typical male and female sensuous parts projected. However, every picture featured body parts of white individuals.

As the projections were no doubt meant to embody the daughter's lust, one would think that they would have featured that which she was lusting for - her father, a black male. In stead, an "idealized" version of lust - in which the participants are both white - was portrayed.

My point is not that blind casting should not be practiced, but rather, that the implications of blind casting cannot be ignored. Meaning is created by putting bodies together onstage, and that along with imagery of bodies projected as the backdrop further complicates the meaning. I wonder why the projection artist completely ignored the specificity of the desire of the character and/or assumed what this desire would look like, and how those on the production team saw no problem with this juxtaposition.

The second moment which was particularly jarring was the marriage between a man and woman where the woman was bit by a snake and dies on their wedding day. The husband is so distraught by the loss that he travels to the underworld to try to beg for her return. Up to this point in the performance, fairly abstract and minimalist sounds were used in the piece and costumes were either vaguely ancient Greece or contemporary U.S. There was also little choreographed, synchronized dancing - most action was solitary narrators with two to three characters acting out the tale.

For this scene, however, several ensemble members emerged from the wings dressed in floor-length white tunics and dancing to identifiably celebratory "Middle Eastern" music. Then the white actor playing the husband emerged to receive his wife, followed by his wife, played by a woman of color who was not identifiably black or North Asian. (It was a large theatre, and I was seated fairly far from the stage. I also do not know this actor personally, so I cannot claim to know what her culture and ethnicity are, only what she appeared to be in this production.) She entered the stage swaying her hips and dancing sensuously, with her black, curly hair shaking on top of her silky, silver dress.

Now, this moment would not have been so jarring if the aesthetics were not so distinct from the rest of the production. As mentioned, the only cultures and times evoked were ancient Greece and present day in the U.S. So, for there to suddenly be costumes and music which clearly evoked a specific time and culture other than this in the minds of the audience, it is hard not to see the choice as connected to the racialized body of the bride who visually fit the evoked region.

On top of these concepts of racialized bodies and racialized desire, I saw a billboard last night in town which featured a picture of a smiling, blond, blue-eyed, white baby boy. The text read, "Every baby is a blessing," and also featured "Pro-Life Campaign" or something similar as the sponsoring group of the message.

I am astounded by the multitude of implications this imagery has, some of which are: white boys are what need - and are deserving of - "saving," all those getting abortions are wasting a blessing (from "god"), no instance of conception is bad (i.e. rape, incest) and is ordained by "god," and that the decision about abortion is only made by white, blond, blue-eyed parents. This billboard sends a very clear message about which lives which are desired to be preserved.

The Administration's Solution to Our Ills

The following is my article about the performance and residency of Speak Theatre Art's N*gger Wetb*ck Ch*nk: The Race Play at UIUC as it appears in the October 2007 edition of the Public i. The entire issue may be accessed at http://publici.ucimc.org/oct07.pdf and includes several other's pieces about the event. For more information about the company, visit http://www.speaktheaterarts.com/speak.html.

My first draft of this article was almost three times as long as what follows. I have plans to work that first draft into a conference paper.

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I received an email on September 16 from the Office of
the Dean of Students stating that, “tickets [for NWC] are
being held for you or for representatives of your organization.”
It did not specify for which group I was being singled
out, how these groups were identified, or how I was
identified as a member.

The email simply detailed how I could purchase one of
these held tickets for a discounted price. The “Office of the
Dean of Students has obtained a limited number of UI student
tickets to ensure that as many students as possible have
an opportunity to view the performance if they wish and to
engage in critical examination and thoughtful dialogue.”

As the groups of which I am a part are linked by their
“activist” goals, I gleaned that the Office of the Dean was
reaching out to campus activists, or those likely to have
strong positions about the performance, to attend. The fact
that grassroots groups, cultural houses, and the racialized
studies programs were not in favor of or questioned the production
threatened the validity of the administration’s effort.
Moreover, the lukewarm to hostile reception of Inclusive
Illinois most likely compounded the need for this outreach.
I detail this process because it was clear that the UIUC
administration (including the Krannert Center) purported
this show as a solution to issues of racial oppression and
privilege on the UIUC campus, though company members
professed that the piece was merely a comedy dealing with
personal experiences.

The Theatre Company markets itself as an educational
tool and is available for residencies and workshops, which
is the capacity in which UIUC engaged the group. Their
website states that, “School and community outreach as
well as artist-in-residence programs are a fundamental
component of our work as we strive to enhance cultural
awareness, acceptance, and risk-taking.” Unfortunately,
those in attendance at events, which featured discussion
with the company members, found the experience to
enhance anything but awareness and acceptance.

The production originated as a performance vehicle for
Rafael Agustin, Allan Axibal, and Miles Gregley. These
three actors of color were systemically excluded from the
casting processes at UCLA, and so created their own performance
opportunity with NWC, based on lived experience.
This show, which was originally scheduled to run for
one weekend, extended its run and began playing professionally
in LA, before touring the United States for the past
three years. A non-professional student production has
become a professional, educational touring show and residency
package, complete with t-shirts and buttons for
purchase outside of the theatre.

Steven T. Seagle, one of two white co-writers and codirectors
of NWC, was present at the community and University
discussions with the performers. I found his role in
the company and specifically during discussion extremely
problematic and harmful. At several such events, Seagle
implied that the three performers should not be critically
questioned about their work, because performers of color
are so rare. At other events he demeaned questions regarding
the performative effect of the work, which came off as a
patronizing effort to protect the performers and the piece.
A section of the performance is called “The Night I was
Gay.” It is about Alan’s experience of questioning whether
he was gay, as so many people had told him. When a question
arose after the performance about his story’s stereotypical
representation of homosexuality, Alan replied, “I
feel it was very brave to share this story. A lot of people
wouldn’t have shared that story.” The audience was again
told that they had no place to question these individuals or
their representation of identity.

Several questions and comments were about the performative
effect of representing these stereotypes. One
person asked about the pleasure expressed in their consumption
and another whether invoking the stereotypes
reinforces them in the cultural imagination. The performers
expressed no discomfort in the laughter and consumption
of the show’s content, and seemed to care little
about the effect on the audience, even when people of
color see white audience members joyfully consuming the
slurs and imagery.

The most upsetting moment for me was when Rafael
Agustin equated the level of concern about their show
with there being more race problems in this area. This
effectively silenced and demeaned any discontent or critical
engagement with the piece and the artists, by stating
that any such expression was merely indicative of racism.
Yet, on a campus where racial masquerade has been
and continues to be endorsed, sold, reinforced, and commodified,
the community is bound to have a more complex
understanding of how stereotypes function. They will
also be especially weary when told that this particular case
is a positive use of stereotypes and epithets.

The most blunt and perhaps most astute comment
made, likened NWC to minstrelsy. Understandably, this
was upsetting for the performers to hear. Less understandably,
however, was for a group of artists in residence at the
University to allow their personal emotions to stunt their
ability to critically engage with the conversations, which
they claim to foster and desire. The basic claim of minstrelsy
was based on the observation that these performers
are commissioned to perform in stereotypical roles (either
as “race educators” or the stereotypes which they embody
in performance), which those in power are comfortable
consuming.

The show began with an announcement asking patrons
to turn off their cell phones followed by, “Above all, remember
that this is a comedy.” People’s lived experiences with
these words and stereotypes are not comical, nor does the
genre, content, or ethnicity of the performers dismiss the
violence they engender or the right to critical engagement.