As I'm starting to develop a paper topic, I thought I'd make a blog post working out some of my ideas, and relating them to my experiences at Playmaking for Girls, Skwhirlhaus, and Moving in the Spirit.
I've been thinking a lot about how a person can have bodily autonomy. How can someone have full control and ownership of their body? From a very young age, we are told that other people are allowed to have access to our bodies. If a child is small and cute, people feel compelled to pick them up, pinch their cheeks, etc. If a child's hair is sticking up, an adult with smooth it down; if a child has food on their face, an adult will wipe it off. By doing this, we tell children that their bodies are not their own. Their bodies can be touched, cleaned, and manipulated by other people--people with more power, whether it's a teacher, parent, or stranger. It might seem silly to consider asking a five-year-old, "Can I wipe your face?" But why? I believe that it is imperative to ask for consent when touching another person's body. What are the consequences of telling young people, especially young girls, that anyone can have access to their bodies?
So...how does this relate to theatre and dance? Well, that's what I'm trying to figure out! But every day I keep experiencing something related to this topic.
Playmaking for Girls
At Playmaking for Girls (PFG), a lot of the teachers were very touchy. On the first day, I remember noticing the teachers touching the girls, especially on their legs and backs. Clearly, this was a way for the teachers to connect with the girls. They wanted to appear caring and comforting. However, I was put off by it. Of course, on a human level I understand the desire to connect, and how physical connection can allow this to happen. But I thought, these are girls you have never met before, and you immediately assume you have the right to touch them? Why?
Apparently I wasn't the only one who was put off by it; at the end of the rehearsal, one of the teachers told us that two girls asked to not be touched. I felt relieved. Phew, I'm not crazy! There are other people who don't like to be touched. Ever since I was a kid, I've been weird about being touched. Of course I enjoy physical contact, but only when I want to be touched and have given someone permission. Something as simple as a friend tucking in my tag without asking me sets me on edge. Is this "normal"? Who knows. But I know that at least two of the girls at Playmaking for Girls felt the same way. All of this inspired me to ask a few questions. How can people connect and engage physically in a safe and comfortable way? What if a theatre exercise involves touching; should everyone participate even if they don't feel comfortable? Is it healthy to learn to be comfortable with physical contact, or is it healthy to know what is comfortable for you as an individual?
After my experience at PFG, I also thought, what if one of the students touched one of the teachers by patting them on the leg or rubbing their back? If this were to happen, I'm pretty sure the teacher would be put off by it. I often think that touching, even if the intention is to connect with something such as an affirming pat on the back, is actually a way of establishing dominance. One time, while working on a project a male partner pat me on the leg and said, "You're smart, aren't you?" I suppose it was possible that this was a compliment, but the genuine surprise in his voice and the fact that he assumed he had access to my body disgusted me. I interpreted his comment as meaning, "Oh wow, this little girl actually knows how to think. Who knew?" As a male student in a computer class of mostly men, he was in a position of power. How can patting someone's leg or rubbing their back be a way of showing dominance? Obviously the teachers at PFG weren't trying to assert their power, but is that what they were ultimately doing? Is this a bad thing? Is it important to have someone with more authority to comfort you? I'm not sure. But I sure am interested in thinking about these questions!
The idea of bodily autonomy was also present at PFG when they did an exercise where they each walked on stage, stomped their feet, and said their name. The point of this exercise was to work on stage presence and confidence. However, I think this exercise has a lot to do with ownership of your body. The girls were asked to physically take up space and to make themselves seen and heard. Women are expected to be quiet and small. Ideas of female beauty rely on us taking up as little space as possible. We live in a world where there is a size called DOUBLE ZERO. How can a body be less than nonexistent?! Anyway, the point is, girls aren't allowed to take up space, but theatre exercises like this allow them to be present and powerful. Also, just the concept of stage presence relates to the idea of giving other people access to your body. Of course, the audience isn't touching you, but they are looking at you. By being on stage, these girls are saying, this is my body, but I am giving you permission to look at it.
Finally, at the end of a PFG rehearsal, all the girls had to say something they liked about themselves. At one point, a girl said something like, "I like my eyes," and one of the teacher encouraged her to choose something about herself as a person. I thought this was odd because isn't her body part of herself? Again, I was thinking about the ways in which women's bodies are supposed to be small or nonexistent. Can't a girl feel confident about her physical appearance? How can we encourage young women to take pride in their physical existence and take ownership of their bodies, without prioritizing looks and normative beauty standards?
Skwhirlhaus Performance
I loved the opportunity to dance with a group of such powerful, talented women. I was new to the concept of improv with structures and I found it to be a liberating experience. I realized that because the "rules" for the improvisation were often individual, I was very much focused on myself and my own body. I'm used to dancing for an audience--moving my body to command as much attention as possible and smiling like I'm having the time of my life. Basically, I'm used to dancing for entertainment. However, when doing this performance, I wasn't so focused on the audience and how they perceived my body and how it moved. For example, during the opening, I was concerned with creating my map and focusing on my internal, external, and environmental body. I was thinking about myself and my body, and I think this allowed me to gain a high level of ownership over it.
Improvisation allowed me the choice to do movement. Every movement I did was up to me, even if I was pulling from a certain vocabulary. My body could do what it wanted to do, and wasn't restricted by specific choreography. This all relates back to the idea of ownership of one's body. This body is mine and I am in charge of moving it. I love this idea and hope to continue exploring improv with structures.
The performance at Skwhirlhaus also created a safe space for touching and physical contact. We gave each other permission to interact with each other, including physically touching each other. Because the performance was improvised, physical contact could happen during any of the improvised group dances at any moment. This requires a great deal of trust, and this was developed by creating a safe space. We created a safe space during rehearsals and performances, where we were encouraged to check-in and check-out, discuss how we were feeling, and come up with creative ideas. I think there's something very powerful about theatre and dance in terms of creating safe spaces for touching and physical contact. Performing allows you to think about your body in relation to other bodies, and how they interact. During the quartet we performed, I was not only very aware of my own body, but the other bodies and where they were on stage and how they were moving.
Moving in the Spirit
Dana taught us about "sunshine." This is where you take someone's hands, make eye contact with them, and give them a compliment. However, to begin sunshine, you must ask the person, "Can I give you sunshine?" This emphasizes the importance of consent, even when it comes to holding someone's hand to give a compliment. Consent is always necessary. Dana also told us that she often asks if she can give a hug after sunshine. Asking is important.
While meeting with Erin Dalton, the Director of Marketing & Communications, she mentioned teaching a class for 5 to 7-year-olds where the focus is to build body awareness. She allows the kids to make choices, rather than just making them mimic her movements. I think this is amazing. She is allowing these kids to take control of their own bodies, rather than controlling them herself even though she is in an authoritative role because she is the teacher.
Okay, last but not least, here's a picture of Sweaty Halley and Rex hanging out after a beautiful performance at Skwhirlhaus:
*Note: I often use the pronoun "them/their" even when referring to a singular person because I prefer to keep things as gender neutral as possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment