I don’t want to waste any electrical current talking about Mexico’s game yesterday against Uruguay! We’ll see what happens on Sunday against Argentina.
I did a performance last night of my monologue, The Deportee’s Wife.
I usually don’t talk directly about my show here on this blog, but today I want to take the topic out for a walk.
It was my first time performing it in about a month. And it felt great.
The day of a performance, I wake up excited. And I always sleep better after doing a show.
I just love being up there. As a writer. As a performer. As an immigration activist. As a woman. As a Mexican-North American. As a deported man’s wife.
The show is intense. I grab people by the neck and keep them there for an hour. Combined with the literal heat of the room, I was touched last night by how the majority of the audience hung in there with me.
And for those of you in a situation similar to mine – this is what I want you to know:
When I first started performing The Deportee’s Wife, I was alone onstage.
Now that I’ve met so many of you, that is no longer the case.
Your names and your faces and your stories and your families stand with me onstage as well.
What started out being a vehicle for me to use art as a way to move through my individual pain has resulted in me finding a community.
A community that I didn’t know that I desperately needed until you came to me.
And if R were a different type of man, there wouldn’t be a show. There can’t be a monologue by the deportee’s wife without the deportee.
I’m grateful to R’s willingness and bravery to let me tell part of his story, particularly in a local setting, as it was last night.
So peeps, I’m feeling the love today. I hope that you’re all feeling mine.
“True art, art that comes from the center of a people, from their very core, is inherently political.” – Beverly Smith