| DRIP a new play by Christina Anderson directed by Marissa Wolf Nov 1 – Nov 21, 2009 Preview: Sunday, Nov. 1 at 5pm Tickets on sale now! Fragmented memories and calloused dreams dance across the stage in this moving new play by Christina Anderson. Mae, a Black American woman lies dying in her hospital bed. As the hospital heart monitor beeps in a-rhythmic pulses, both she and her grandson struggle to accept their shared legacy bound by love and scars. |
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| Crowded Fire is thrilled to develop and produce this play with renowned emerging playwright Christina Anderson who has been hailed by American Theater magazine as one of fifteen up-and-coming artists “whose work will be transforming America’s stages for decades to come.” |
PF’s Rough Reading Series, a free monthly reading series, kicks off the Fall/Winter series next week! Please join us!
A new play by Karen Hartman: Goldie, Max & Milk
Directed by Jonathan Moscone<
With: Jeri Lynn Cohen, Dena Martinez, Carrie Paff, Kate Jopson & Ryan Tasker
Monday, November 9th
Stanford University—7:30pm
CERAS Hall, Room 100B
For More Information Contact: davidg1@stanford.edu
Tuesday, November 10th
A.C.T.’s Hastings Studio—7pm
30 Grant Ave, 6th Floor, San Francisco
Reservations recommended. Contact: jill@playwrightsfoundation.org
For more information about the series, the writers and the program click here.
It seemed as if we both, Elaine and I, were faced with a dilemma or conflict over where we owed our allegiance. Why was there any doubt about our loyalty to the country in which we were born? We definitely weren’t Filipino. We spoke only English. We shared an American background. We grew up enjoying American riches and privileges. We took advantage of an American education and, by and large, followed an American thought process. With American values and an American vision instilled in us, we could never stop being Americans.
Yet I refused to go to the head of the line, and Elaine was starving herself in front of Fort Bonifacio. I can’t speak for Elaine, but I didn’t feel out of place. It felt good to still be free. I felt lucky to still be on my feet and alive and confident enough to be in that line. I felt sorry that Nick had been arrested, not for what was in my mind a crime, but for speaking out for what he believed in. I observed that there seemed to be a fine line between freedom of speech and sedition, especially right then in the Philippines. So Elaine and I couldn’t be assured that our nationality would be sufficient to make a difference, or even keep us from being detained. First, we had been identified and seen at demonstrations. We had made a list. To some extent we had been radicalized. And, second, we had been seen associating with people who were actively opposed to Marcos and his regime and were equally angry at the United States, and that could be held against us also. We liked to think that that shouldn’t have mattered; and that as American citizens we enjoyed a certain amount immunity (because of who we were), but we also were aware that that would hold only to a certain extent. When you left the United States, we knew you left behind the protections of the US. Constitution, and elsewhere EQUAL JUSTICE UNDER LAW didn’t apply. I also knew that by then that my draft board had probably issued a Federal arrest warrant for me. It then would’ve been impossible for me to return to the States. But you must also realize that Elaine and I came from a country where there was a long history of civil disobedience. And that hadn’t changed. We, as a people, had been granted the Right to Assembly, as long as it was peaceful. In the United States, we had also been granted the Right to Due Process, but I felt pretty damn sure that it wouldn’t necessarily be the same in the Philippines.
I was uncertain about where I stood. Yet I knew I was better off than Nick, whose fate I wondered about as I stood in line in front of the American Embassy. I could only imagine what he had gone through. As I approached the gates and the Marine guards, I pressed my hand against my heart, felt my passport in my shirt pocket and said to myself, “Fool. This is great. What makes me think you won’t be arrested? You should forget it.” As I got closer, I recall asking myself what am I getting myself into?
We assume people are reasonable and, regardless who we are, expect a certain amount of courtesy and respect. Why wouldn’t we be shown it and denied that right? But why expect liberty and freedom in a land where oppression is on the rise? As Americans, we still don’t expected to be shackled, interrogated, or worse tortured. The spirit of liberty is alive within us. It’s something we’re anxious to share with the rest of the world, but we’re not quite sure of ourselves, though we seem overconfident. And now in an imperfect world, where a large majority of people don’t enjoy the same freedoms that we have…which may be more than we have a right to expect…with those expectations I finally reached the gates, having waited my turned and having then a Marine stop me.
After his arrest, Nick was first taken to a “safe house” so that relatives or friends couldn’t trace him. He went “unaudited” or officially acknowledged while he was interrogated or worse tortured. I’m pretty sure Elaine’s and my name came up. All this before, he was transferred to Fort Bonifacio, and we became extremely worried about him. That’s where we were when we attracted the attention of the US Embassy.
At the gates, a Marine guard took one look at my sandals and said I couldn’t come in. It looked very much like I would have to wear shoes and socks.
ISAF No. 42796
Inmate Registration No. B1 516 741
Be it known that the United States and the Philippines are long-time democratic allies, and the US Embassy wishes to reiterate our government’s support for the rule of law, constitutional order, and the government of the Philippines.
On Bonifacio Day, Quezon Bishop Emeritus Rolando Lim led a prayer vigil at Plaza Miranda in Ouiapo. The police supported it by their presence. Angry over being turned away from the embassy, I joined Elaine in her protest.
Randy Ford
Jude Johnson’s newest novel, DRAGON’S BLOOD, the third installment in her historical safa set in the Arizona Territory in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centures has been released by Scorched Hawk Press. The adventures of the Welsh Jones brothers contine with their children in DRAGON’S BLOOD. It’s 1904, Jamie Jones, eldest son of Welsh immigrant Evan Jones and his Mexican-Mayan wife, Reyna, is coming of age as Tucson and the Territory fills with Anglos.
At press time, arrangements for a live telephone interview with po;ular welsh personality Roy Noble on BBC Radio Wales www.bbc.co.uk/wales/radiowales/sites,roynoble were being set for early October. For a list of signings, Arizona bookstores carrying Jude’s novels, and to read excerpts from all three books, go to www.sorchedhawkpress.com
Taken from the Write Word, the newsletter of the Society of Southwestern Authors Vol. 38, No. 5 Oct/Nov. 2009
Allen Kate’s article “PTS Can Attack Years Later: Even With No Previous Symptoms” was published in the July/August 2009 issue of “Sheriff” magazine. He was also quoted in the article “New Des Moines police unit helps officers fight job stress.” Des Moines Register 7-29-09. You can read the article at http://desmoinesregister.com/Better/news.jap?key-498638
Taken from THE WRITE WORD, the newsletter for the Society of Southwestern Authors Vol. 38. No. 5 Oct/Nov. 2009
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