OTHER- Previously titled:
PILGRIMAGE: WHY I'M NOT AN INDIAN
What Part American Indian are you?
What's up with the ex-nun and the box of ashes?
“… a gorgeous evening of theater. The piece is so beautifully wrought, both the writing and the performing…the complexity of thought, the humor, the images that rolled and thickened… just glorious.” – Brian Thorstenson: Summerland, Heading South
Elaine, intrepid lesbian, turkey-baster mom and childhood abuse survivor sets out at 60 to untangle the story of her mixed heritage. If only that were ALL she'd inherited from her dramatically disturbed mother! It's a tale of irony, outrage and irreverence. Guaranteed fun for dysfunctionals, genealogists, social activists, the deeply hopeful and anyone who loves their family despite it all.
"My mother told us some of her family was Indian (Native American). Her telling was jumbled and bitter in ways I couldn’t understand. So, growing up in the 1950’s, I never knew which box to check: White, Black, Indian, Asian, Hispanic, Other. I didn’t want to check White – that would be a denial of my mixed heritage. But I didn’t feel I could check Indian – that felt like stealing something that wasn’t mine. I always chose Other. I I thought of and think of myself as Other. Other than the categories we are given to choose from and other than who and what is represented in the national stories of race and culture.
A few years after my mother died, I took her ashes on a road trip to Walla Walla, Washington where she was born, to the reservation where her relatives lived, and to Portland where she grew up. On the reservation, I started to ask questions. I wondered how racial/cultural/historical trauma contributed to my mother’s mental illness. I wondered if there was some way to think of myself besides Other. Pilgrimage recounts a part of that journey.”
“… a beautifully woven tale…utterly engaging and genuinely moving…real artistry and humor”
– Winnipeg Free Press
“…this exquisite tale goes far beyond searching for one’s roots. Magree creates images, people, moods, places- almost imperceptibly. Look, listen carefully. Feel the beads, the ashes sifting…smell the old newspaper clippings…understand the frustrations of centuries. What makes up your blood, and how do you think of yourself? Unexpectedly compelling and worth listening again, and again.”
-Jon Skaalen, citizen reviewer, Minneapolis Fringe Festival