Tag: lived experience
Conor Ling, Gabriella Circosta, Allison Shea Reed & Tristan Claxton. Photo by Alice Xue Photography.
RedWit Theatre invites us into lived experiences of a young woman living with OCD in Allison Shea Reed's funny, poignant, enlightening Living with Olivia Cadence Donovan, directed by Sean O'Brien and running now in the Tankhouse Theatre at the Young Centre. Emily has lived with Olivia—her OCD personified—since childhood, and struggles daily with what that means for her relationships and her life. She longs to break out of her comfort zone and enter into a relationship, but will Olivia let her?
Emily (Allison Shea Reed) is a warm, smart and funny young woman who's been living with OCD her entire life, personified by her helicopter protector, hyper-judgemental joined-at-the-hip best friend Olivia (Gabriella Circosta). Olivia is Emily's personal flight response attendant, her fierce warrior defender, and her nagging inner voice of self-doubt; the one that tells her she's too much, a burden, that everyone would be better off if she didn't exist. Emily also has her roommate and friend, the culinarily gifted Rowan (Tristan Claxton); supportive and on her side, he understands, accepts and is respectful of Emily's relationship with Olivia.
Enter the fun-loving, charming Graham (Conor Ling), who Emily really likes and, despite her hesitation to go with her attraction—and big pushback from Olivia, who prophesizes doom and gloom about any prospective romantic relationship—decides to date him. The added stress and unknowns about having a new person in her life, and sharing her space both physically and emotionally, make for extra tension between Emily and Olivia. Despite her courageous, and even optimistic, attempts to get out into the world and open up to new people, it's still a struggle for Emily, even as she openly communicates her needs—needs that may seem strange—to those around her.
As their relationship progresses, and after much consideration, Emily decides to divulge her condition to Graham, who responds positively and even shares his own experiences with mental illness. But Olivia wonders if he's being honest and realistic about life with Emily, and is skeptical about how long this honeymoon period will last. For a while, Emily has her world to herself—until things begin to get tense with Graham, and Olivia returns.
Beautifully drawn, sensitive work from the cast in this peek into a life experience that we don't often see portrayed on stage. Shea Reed gives a complex, compelling performance as Emily; high-functioning and managing her illness, Emily's cheery, good-humoured self is constantly bombarded with negative internal messaging and impulses toward repetitive actions, especially during stressful times. Longing for a "normal life", she tries to stay positive, and does the best she can to navigate the world through her OCD, but struggles daily with creeping negative perceptions and fearful responses. As Olivia, Circosta turns on a dime, going from entertainingly impish to devastatingly cruel; both a protector and a naysayer on Emily's shoulder, Olivia does whatever she needs to do in order to keep Emily safe and within the confines of her comfort zone—be it through manipulation, cajoling, tantrums or drama. Thing is, Emily wants to break out of that dynamic—leaving Olivia abandoned and unheeded. And that troubles Oliva a great deal.
Claxton gives an endearing performance as Emily's friend/roommate Rowan—and has great chemistry with Shea Reed. A loving and supportive ally, Rowan rides the line between being protective and concerned, and letting Emily have her space as she ventures into new territory. It is Rowan who reminds Emily that OCD does not define her; and that she is so much more than a mental illness, and so loved. Ling gives Graham a compelling combination of affable charm and changeable loyalties; and, like Emily and Olivia, we're not sure if we can trust Graham. Navigating his own mental health issues, Graham wants to be with Emily, but—despite his warm feelings and best intentions—needs to work out whether he can be okay with her challenging days and unorthodox needs. And the fact that he doesn't seem to be as self-aware of his own mental health as Emily is of her own isn't helping.
Living with Olivia Cadence Donovan gives us a candid and thoughtful look at the inner workings and lived experiences of someone living with OCD. We need more storytelling like this—to break down barriers and stereotypes, and foster awareness and understanding of those living with mental illness. And that an individual's mental health issue, while part of who they are, does not define them; and they have something to contribute to their loved ones and society.
Living with Olivia Cadence Donovan continues in the Tankhouse Theatre at the Young Centre until January 25; advance tickets available online or by calling the box office at 416-866-8666 or 1-888-898-1188.
Author life with more cowbellPosted on January 16, 2020 Categories Moments, TheatreTags "normal life", acceptance, Alice Xue Photography, Allison Shea Reed, awareness, break down barriers, comfort zone, communication, Conor Ling, courage, depression, fear, friendship, Gabriella Circosta, high-functioning, inner voice, judgement, lived experience, living with OCD, Living with Olivia Cadence Donovan, love, managing mental illness, manipulation, mental health, mental illness, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, OCD, OCD personified, optimism, positive, protection, RedWit Theatre, relationships, respect, romance, Sean O'Brien, self-awareness, self-doubt, stereotypes, support, Tristan Claxton, understanding, well-managed, Young CentreLeave a comment on Navigating the world with OCD in the funny, poignant, enlightening Living with Olivia Cadence Donovan
Waiting for the American Dream in the provocative, disturbing, razor-sharp Pass Over
Kaleb Alexander & Mazin Elsadig. Set design by Julia Kim. Lighting design by Chris Malkowski. Costume design by Vanessa Fischer. Photo by Cesar Ghisilieri.
Obsidian Theatre takes us to the edge of the world in an urban Black neighbourhood in America with its provocative, mind-blowing production of Antoinette Nwandu's Pass Over, directed by Philip Akin, assisted by Jay Northcott, and running at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre. Disturbing, thought-provoking and razor-sharp, it's a 21st century Waiting for Godot, infused with the hope and resilience of The Book of Exodus, as two young Black men hang out on a street corner, making plans to better their situation and get to the Promised Land.
Before the action starts, we're immersed in this microcosm of the modern-day Black experience in America—via Julia Kim's effective, minimalist set design; Chris Malkowski's lighting and Miquelon Rodriguez's sound design. A lone streetlight, a fire hydrant and a wooden industrial spool on a stylized L-shaped street corner with an exaggerated curb. The edge of the world. A solitary figure in a hoodie sits, sleeping against the base of the streetlight, his back to us; a man appears, alternately pacing and sitting. The sounds of a classical music piece, ranging from tranquil to majestic, accompanied by the whoosh of passing traffic, as the light wanes and the streetlight glows to life. An object on the sidewalk, off to the right of the man—a lost sneaker, a rock?
Moses (Kaleb Alexander) awakens to see his friend Kitch (Mazin Elsadig). The dynamic between them creates an atmosphere of restlessness, wheels spinning and going nowhere, as they settle into an easy, familiar banter. And then, crackling with electric promise, Moses shares his hopes, dreams and plan to make something of himself and get out—out and away across the river to the Promised Land. Visions of champagne, caviar and top 10 lists dance in their heads as they speak of a better life to come, reveling in the possibilities that lie ahead.
Kaleb Alexander, Alex McCooeye & Mazin Elsadig. Set design by Julia Kim. Lighting design by Chris Malkowski. Costume design by Vanessa Fischer. Photo by Cesar Ghisilieri.
Their reverie is continually interrupted by the abrupt, brief and jarring light and sound of a police cruiser; the cops constantly on patrol, looking for non-existent trouble and repeatedly harassing young Black men who are doing nothing wrong. Each time this occurs, Moses and Kitch assume the position: hands in the air, sometimes dropping to their knees. They've lost count as to how many friends have been killed. A stranger appears; the whitest white man you've ever seen (Alex McCooeye as Mister)—I'm talking 1950s suburban "golly gee" white. Carrying a picnic basket, he got lost on his way to his mother's. Initially met with wary indifference, his Lord Bountiful offer of food is too good for the two friends to pass up; and like Mary Poppins and her bottomless carpet bag, he produces a veritable feast from his basket, including an apple pie.
Contrasted and complemented to the encounter with Mister, Moses and Kitch are set upon by the local beat cop (McCooeye as Officer), on patrol and looking for an excuse to hassle, or even shoot, a Black man—who he views as shiftless, lazy and stupid. "To serve and protect" only applies to people who look, act and speak like him. Left to themselves again, discouraged, weary and beaten down, Moses begins to question his original plan for exodus, and hatches a desperate alternate plan for himself and Kitch.
Mazin Elsadig & Kaleb Alexander. Set design by Julia Kim. Lighting design by Chris Malkowski. Costume design by Vanessa Fischer. Photo by Cesar Ghisilieri.
Stunning, compelling and electric performances from the cast in this uncomfortable, sometimes satirical, and instructive piece of theatre. Alexander gives a passionate, charismatic performance as Moses; living up to his namesake, Moses is a natural leader, inspiring those around him with the hope of better things to come—but not without self-doubt and internal conflict. Elsadig's playfulness, warmth and swagger as Kitch perfectly complements Alexander's Moses; Kitch is more than just a friend—he's a confidante, a brother. While Moses tends to be more of a cerebral ideas man with a dream to manifest, Kitch is driven by more pragmatic, visceral concerns; but he's nonetheless inspired and willing to follow his friend, based on love and trust.
McCooeye offers two fascinating and telling portraits of white male power. Mister is a patronizing, clueless entitled white man whose hospitable demeanour is peppered with microaggressions and judgements of Black culture—insidious, "polite" racism. The white person who claims to never even think about using "the n word', but who calls out Black people for using the term—wondering, if they can use it, why can't he? As Officer, he's the picture of the racist asshole cop who relishes abusing his power; keeping Black people "in their place", he's the embodiment of the darker, shameless side of the white-dominated power structure. Moses and Kitch speak the language of streetwise urban Black youth; and internalized racism makes them question whether it would be better to adopt a more white manner and speech, and assimilate into the safety of the dominant culture.
From plantation to ghetto, Pass Over provides ample evidence that white-powered systemic racism is alive and well in 2019—and and it will make allies question the true nature of their allyship. The apple pie of the American Dream is held out under the noses of those who are perpetually barred, blocked and beaten away from that dream, then taken away before they have a chance to taste it. It's an unforgettable, uncomfortable, at times shocking, look into the hopes, dreams and lived experiences of the Black community—which is as it should be in the case of discourse on deep-seated systemic racism in America and, by extension, Canada. Make no mistake, Canada is far from innocent in this regard. And with the growing emergence of a new alt-right, emboldened by extreme right-wing leadership around the world, this is definitely not just an urban street corner issue—nor does it only impact the Black community.
Pass Over continues at Buddies until November 10; advance tickets available online or by calling 416-975-8555.
For additional context, check out this Artist Perspective piece by Obsidian producer Luke Reece in Intermission Magazine.
And check out the trailer:
Author life with more cowbellPosted on October 27, 2019 October 27, 2019 Categories Moments, TheatreTags 21st century, abuse of power, Alex McCooeye, allies, allyship, alt-right, America, American Dream, Antoinette Nwandu, apple pie, Artist Perspective, assume the position, better life, Black community, Black experience, Black Lives Matter, Black neighbourhood, Black urban dialect, Buddies in Bad Times, Canada, Cesar Ghisilieri, Chris Malkowski, disturbing, dreams, entitlement, extreme right-wing politics, friendship, ghetto, growing global alt-right, hope, human rights, Intermission Magazine, Jay Northcott, Julia Kim, Kaleb Alexander, leader, lived experience, love, Luke Reece, Mazin Elsadig, microaggressions, mind-blowing, Miquelon Rodriguez, Moses, Obsidian Theatre, ownership, Pass Over, Philip Akin, plantation, police, police brutality, polite racism, Promised Land, provocative, racism in America, racism in Canada, rights, shameless racism, systemic racism, The Book of Exodus, the n word, trailer, trust, urban, Vanessa Fischer, Waiting for Godot, white American dialect, white privilege, white-dominated power structure1 Comment on Waiting for the American Dream in the provocative, disturbing, razor-sharp Pass Over
SummerWorks: Running away to home in the fierce, funny, inspiring, socially aware The Breath Between
Fio Yang. Photo by Saba Akhtar.
The AMY Project returns to SummerWorks, this year with a journey of belonging and identity as a group of BIPOC, 2LGBTQ women and non-binary youth living in a world ravaged by climate change venture out in search of a place where they can feel safe and welcome to be themselves. The fierce, funny, inspiring and socially aware The Breath Between, directed by kumari giles and Julia Hune-Brown, assisted by Jamie Milay, and created by the ensemble, opened last night in The Theatre Centre Incubator.
In a post-apocalyptic world where climate change has destroyed the planet and forced the population to live under protective domes, the queer community gathers to dance and celebrate at Dome Pride. Growing increasingly disillusioned and disappointed about the over-the-top corporate branding and ownership—not to mention the $17 bottled water—and mainstream packaging of the event meant to "normalize" queer culture, a group of young BIPOC and 2LGBTQ women and non-binary youth decide to blow this corporate logo-ridden popsicle stand and search for a better place. Hijacking a spaceship on display at the event, and joined by the chirpy host inspired by their cause, they venture out to explore worlds beyond to find a place where they can feel safe and welcome. The trip brings some twists, turns and revelations as they share and discover themselves.
The bright, energetic and engaging ensemble includes Jericho Allick (mentored by Neema Bickersteth), nevada jane arlow (mentored by Susanna Fournier), Alice Cheng Meiqing (mentored by Courtney Ch'ng Lancaster), Lyla Sherbin (mentored by Avery Jean Brennan), Fio Yang (mentored by Maddie Bautista), Whitney Nicole Peterkin and Megan Legesse; with additional writing by Taranjot Bamrah, A.C., Daniella Leacock and Claudia Liz. Incorporating music, poetry and monologues, the performers invite us into their individual worlds as they share memories and lived experiences—for better or worse. There is pain, longing and shame—but there is also resilience, ferocity and hope; all peppered with astute and darkly comic acknowledgments of the negative impacts of extreme climate change and the corporate branding of events that were once community-organized, grassroots movements.
While they may leave the Dome feeling like a spaceship full of misfit toys, the group ends up finding community and chosen family—and faces the choice of returning home or continuing their off-world exploration. Nicely book-ended by songs performed by Fio Yang, you may find yourself humming Out in the City as you leave the theatre.
Go where you are welcome—or take space where you like? In the end, home is where your family is, whether biological or chosen, and you can spark the change you want to see.
The Breath Between has three more performances in the Incubator space at The Theatre Centre, closing on August 16; check the show page for exact dates/times. Tickets available online or in person at the box office.
Author life with more cowbellPosted on August 9, 2019 Categories Moments, Music, Poetry, TheatreTags 2LGBTQ, A.C., acceptance, Alice Cheng Meiqing, Avery Jean Brennan, be the change, be yourself, belonging, BIPOC, chosen family, city, Claudia Liz, climate change, corporate branding, corporate ownership, Courtney Ch'ng Lancaster, Daniella Leacock, dark comedy, family, feeling welcome, ferocity, Fio Yang, friendship, Home, hope, identity, Jamie Milay, Jericho Allick, journey, Julia Hune-Brown, kumari giles, LGBTQI, lived experience, longing, love, Lyla Sherbin, Maddie Bautista, Megan Legesse, memory, Neema Bickersteth, nevada-jane arlow, non-binary, personal anecdote, personal narrative, post-apocalypse, Pride, queer, queer culture, resilience, Saba Akhtar, safety, spaceship, storytelling, SummerWorks, Susanna Fournier, Taranjot Bamrah, The AMY Project, The Breath Between, Theatre Centre, Whitney-Nicole Peterkin, women, youthLeave a comment on SummerWorks: Running away to home in the fierce, funny, inspiring, socially aware The Breath Between
Toronto Fringe: Storytelling meets TED Talk in the fight for social justice in the sharply funny, frank, eye-opening Monica vs. the Internet
Monica Ogden. Photo by Sortome Photography.
Rage Sweater Productions presents Monica Ogden's sharply funny, frank, eye-opening Monica vs. the Internet: Tales of a Social Justice Warrior, directed by KP Productions and running in the Tarragon Theatre Solo Room. Storytelling meets TED Talk as shared lived experience and knowledge come together for this look at activism in the digital world, as Ogden addresses mixed-race identity, racism and white supremacy/feminism.
A self-described light-skinned, cis gender Filipina woman coming to terms with a family history that includes both colonizer and colonized, Monica Ogden navigates both the privilege and the oppression she experiences every day. Her multi-generational lived experience of racism (including accusations of not being "Asian enough" to mention it), disability, mental health issues and abuse informed her path from student at a racist theatre school to YouTube series host on Fistful of Feminism and social justice warrior.
Part personal history tour, part TED Talk, the multimedia solo show incorporates projected images—from sweet, sometimes funny, family and personal photos to shocking, racist tweets from trolls—as Ogden shares personal and family history and lived experience, both good and bad. The inspiration and love she receives from her mother and grandmother, whose shoulders she stands on; and the in-person and cyber bullying from Twitter trolls, and even a theatre reviewer at a Fringe festival, about her race (sometimes perceived/misread) and appearance. And she schools many of us, with patience, good humour and frankness, on the myriad ways that POC deal with everyday racism—left out of spaces and conversations, and denied respect and justice.
Ogden is a delightful powerhouse of a storyteller and social justice activist; candid in her sharing of her life and knowledge—despite her daily personal challenges (she also lives with physical disability and mental health issues), despite the racist blow-back, and despite the soul-crushing 'meh' response from organizations who don't think they need her consultation, or do need it but ignore it. But don't call her "brave". Firmly, but gently, she calls on the white folks in the audience to examine their responses to white-dominated spaces, places and ideas. How true social justice includes considerations of intersectionality—and we need to be mindful and respond accordingly.
Just because we're used to situations in which white supremacy is the default—in our government institutions, everyday social lives and even our arts institutions—doesn't mean it's a good thing or the right thing. Everyone deserves respect. Everyone deserves to be heard. And everyone deserves a safe space to grow, learn, live and be themselves in the world.
Monica vs. the Internet: Tales of a Social Justice Warrior continues in the Tarragon Theatre Solo Room until July 13; check the show page for exact dates/times and advance tickets.
Author life with more cowbellPosted on July 7, 2019 July 7, 2019 Categories Moments, TheatreTags activism, activist, bullying, comedy, consultant, cyber bullying, digital world, family history, family photos, feminism, Filipina, Fistful of Feminism, Fringe festival, Internet, intersectionality, KP Productions, light-skinned, lived experience, mental health, mixed-race identity, Monica Ogden, Monica vs. the Internet: Tales of a Social Justice Warrior, multimedia, oppression, personal history, personal storytelling, physical disability, privilege, projection, racism, racist blow-back, Rage Sweater Productions, social justice, social justice activist, social justice warrior, social media, solo show, Sortome Photography, storytelling, Tarragon Theatre, TED Talk, theatre reviewer, Toronto Fringe, Twitter trolls, white feminism, white supremacy, white-dominated, YouTube seriesLeave a comment on Toronto Fringe: Storytelling meets TED Talk in the fight for social justice in the sharply funny, frank, eye-opening Monica vs. the Internet
Portrait of a family in messy, human shades of grey in the intimate, intense, complex What I Call Her
Charlie Gould & Ellie Ellwand. Lighting design by Imogen Wilson. Photo by Dahlia Katz.
In Association—which led a sold-out production of Ellie Moon's Asking For It last season—partners with Crow's Theatre once again, this time with the world premiere of Moon's intimate, intense and complex What I Call Her, directed by Sarah Kitz and opening to a sold-out house at Streetcar Crowsnest last night. Exploring a family dynamic of abuse, estrangement, grief and reconciliation, What I Call Her gives us the messy—ultimately human—blacks, whites and greys of family relationships shaped by trauma, conflicting memory and divergent lived experiences.
Estranged from her mother and younger sister Ruby, and recovering from childhood abuse at the hands of her mother, English MA student/writer Kate (Charlie Gould) now finds herself navigating the myriad mixed emotions of her mother's impending death. Triggered by her mother's distant death bed, as well as her mother's startlingly contrasting history of abuse, abusive behaviour and philanthropy for survivors, Kate starts writing a frank obituary for her mother. Her supportive, live-in boyfriend and women's ally Kyle (Michael Ayres) acts as her anchor, sounding board and Devil's advocate on the idea of posting it on Facebook.
When Ruby (Ellie Ellwand) surprises them with a late-night arrival at their apartment, the family conflict—in particular, Ruby's contradictory and hugely different experiences of childhood and their parents—gets too close to home. While Ruby's appearance sparks Kate's rage over the family's denial of her experience, she's got some anger to unpack as well; and the sisters face-off over their shared history and their mother's desire for a death bed reunion and subsequent redemption.
The finely-tuned three-hander cast of What I Call Her plays out the various levels of family conflict in a series of contrasts—in moments of quiet and explosion, trauma and comfort, remembering and forgetting—turning the blacks and whites of family history, memory and corresponding emotional/psychological responses into complex, messy and profoundly human shades of grey.
Michael Ayres & Charlie Gould. Lighting design by Imogen Wilson. Photo by Dahlia Katz.
Gould's broken, neurotic, sharply intelligent Kate can be self-involved, but also self-aware; and Kate's self-professed knack for hyperbole is matched only by her lonely, hopeless sense of familial gaslighting. As Ruby, Ellwand is both adult and baby sister; brutally honest and perceptive, but needing support and validation. While Ruby's directness with Kate tends toward cruelty, she desperately needs Kate right now. And Aryes' Michael is that sweet, #MeToo woke good guy you want to see your sister with. Michael's calm, quiet demeanour is a perfect foil to Kate's mercurial outbursts of emotional activity—but, caught in the middle of and pushed away from this family war, and exhausted from keeping Kate from spinning off, even he can only take so much.
It's especially noteworthy that Kate and Ruby's mom, who is a fourth but unseen character in this piece, has a history of family abuse—both she and her own mother are survivors. And while it's no excuse for her verbal and physical abuse of Kate, it's a reason. The Kates of the world need be able to tell their stories; and as contradictory to the experiences of other family members and painful as these stories may be, they need to come out so real reconciliation and redemption can begin.
What I Call Her continues at Streetcar Crowsnest until December 8; advance tickets are available online. It's an intimate venue and the show is getting a lot of well-deserved buzz, so booking ahead is strongly recommended.
Author life with more cowbellPosted on November 22, 2018 November 22, 2018 Categories Moments, TheatreTags #MeToo, abuse, abuse survivor, Asking For It, black and white, Charlie Gould, conflict, conflicting accounts, contrast, Crow's Theatre, Dahlia Katz, death bed, denial, dying mother, Ellie Ellwand, Ellie Moon, estrangement, family, family history, family secrets, gaslighting, grief, history of abuse, Imogen Wilson, In Association, lived experience, memory, mental illness, Michael Ayre, mothers and daughters, philanthropy for survivors, post-MeToo, rage, reconciliation, redemption, Sarah Kitz, shades of grey, siblings, storytelling, Streetcar Crowsnest, trauma, truth, What I Call Her, women's rage, women's voices, world premiere1 Comment on Portrait of a family in messy, human shades of grey in the intimate, intense, complex What I Call Her
Discovering & unpacking identity & marginalization in Jivesh Parasram's entertaining, candid, mindful Take d Milk, Nah?
Jivesh Parasram. Photo by Graham Isador.
Pandemic Theatre and b current performing arts, with the support of Theatre Passe Muraille (TPM), present the premiere of Jivesh Parasram's one-man show Take d Milk, Nah?, directed by Tom Arthur Davis—opening last night in the TPM Backspace.
Do you have any Indo-Caribbean friends? Do you want one? Jivesh (Jiv) Parasram will be that friend. Canadian-born with Indo-Trinidadian heritage, Jiv's short piece about birthing a cow, coupled with experiences of growing up in Nova Scotia, and connections with family in Trinidad and Hinduism, evolved with the assistance of dramaturg Graham Isador into Take d Milk, Nah? The title is Jiv's impression of a Trinidadian cow; cow's don't "moo" so much as they "nah." Also, cows are awesome (and we're greeted by one outside TPM).
Beginning with a hilarious prologue that introduces the show as an identity play, Jiv is as much self-deprecating as poking fun at the solo show experience. And he nails it when he points out that identity plays are an especially Canadian thing. Part stand-up, part storyteller, part teacher, Jiv weaves cultural and family history with ritual, Hindu stories and personal anecdotes—and even a trip into his mind—gently schooling us along the way with patience and good-humour.
Like when he talks about the impacts of colonialism and imperialism on occupied and/or enslaved peoples. When slavery becomes indentured servitude, and communities of former slaves are regarded with suspicion and fear of an uprising, an already oppressed people become further separated from their loved ones and even their identities. Scattered into the marginalized edges of society, how do they live with others, often in a new world far from home, and not lose their own culture?
Growing up in the East Coast of Canada, neither black nor white, and the only member of his family not born in Trinidad, Jiv relates his personal struggles in the search for identity. The birthing of the cow back in Trinidad becomes an important symbol of Indo-Trinidadian cultural identity for him—and this story is full of excitement, edge-of-your-seat veterinary drama and hilarious procedural descriptions. He also relates the personal impact of 9-11; the increase in racist remarks and treatment when he was assumed to be Muslim and therefore a terrorist. And how this led him to embrace Hinduism, thus distancing himself from 'those bad brown people'—and stung by his response to save himself when Muslims became the target of increased oppression.
Jiv doesn't want to start an oppression pissing contest or point fingers of blame; well-aware that mainstream education tends to leave out or gloss over the history and lived experiences of people of colour (POC), and that some white folks haven't had the opportunity to befriend a person of colour, he's happy to school us. And he delivers some harsh truths with a spoonful of sugar—all while recognizing his own privilege as a straight, cisgender male with a microphone. But, then, this can get exhausting—for anyone who identifies as POC. The extra time and effort spent providing basic background information of cultural history and lived experience isn't something that people who enjoy white privilege have to do. And important, nuanced and deeper conversations may have to be delayed or put aside in the process.
Hilariously entertaining and insightful, Jiv is a sharp and engaging storyteller. Playful and candid as he chats with us—including some gentle, fun audience participation—he is respectful and inclusive, even when pointing out our differences. Because, after all, as he aptly points out, identity is an illusion—and we are all the same.
Informative and uplifting, Jiv's show may inspire you to learn more, or check your way of thinking about and treating those who aren't like you. And you may wind up leaving the theatre asking yourself how you hold privilege, and if/how you are marginalized.
Discovering and unpacking the intersectionality of identity and marginalization through storytelling and ritual in the entertaining, candid, mindful Take d Milk, Nah?
Take d Milk, Nah? continues in the TPM Backspace until April 22; get advance tickets online or by calling the TPM box office at: 416-504-7529. Advance booking strongly recommended.
The run includes a Relaxed Performance on Saturday April 14, 2018 at 2pm; an ASL Performance on Friday April 20, 2018 at 7:30pm; and an Audio Described Performance on Saturday April 21, 2018 at 2pm.
Check out the trailer:
Author life with more cowbellPosted on April 13, 2018 Categories Moments, TheatreTags ASL performance, audio described performance, b current performing arts, Canadian, colonialism, cow birthing, Cows, cultural history, East Coast, FAITH, Graham Isador, Hindu, Hinduism, history, identity, identity play, imperialism, indentured servitude, Indo-Caribbean, Indo-Trinidadian, intersectionality, Jivesh Parasram, lived experience, marginalization, Nova Scotia, Pandemic Theatre, people of colour, personal anecdote, personal narrative, POC, post-9-11 racism, privilege, racism, relaxed performance, religion, ritual, self-discovery, slavery, solo show, stand-up, storytelling, Take d Milk Nah?, teaching, Theatre Passe Muraille, Tom Arthur Davis, Trinidad, white privilege2 Comments on Discovering & unpacking identity & marginalization in Jivesh Parasram's entertaining, candid, mindful Take d Milk, Nah?