THE MOVING COMPANY PRESENTS:
PINK! Stories of Play and Aggression IN COLL ABORATION WITH PARTICIPANTS OF THE WORK, LE ARN, & GROW EMPLOYMENT PROGRAM AT COMMUNITY COUNSELING & MEDIATION
AN G E LI CA It was a long time ago. They were young. He was a beauty. She was a beast. But then we all were in those days. Both beauties and beasts. There wasn’t enough. There was never enough. Food. Money. Space. Though somehow there was always time. They had love. But they were on the streets. It was the kind of frustrating existence that makes anger rise up in your heart. Tracing a line to your head, where the anger speaks “This is unfair, unkind, unjust”. He would sweetly lift his face up and say “Hey lady, please lady. I’m all out of luck. Just one dollar? Please” And she would yell “What’s your problem? Why you looking at me like that?!! You’ve never had it so hard! Maybe if you threw some money our way, we could get OUT of your way?!?” And so it would go. Day after day. That night, she held her head in her hand, half thinking, half
dreaming. She wished she could teleport somewhere. Somewhere else. Far far away from the cold, hard streets. Maybe somewhere with a palm tree and a beach, and the warm sun shining across her face, his face. Maybe there they would finally be happy together. Is this what they call failing at life, she thought? Suddenly, down the alley, she notices something. A man forcing himself on a woman. She’s clearly not ok. And he’s taking advantage. Angelica rises and roars at the man “What are you doing?!!?” WOMP! Her arm makes an arc in the air and lands on the side of his head. He is startled. So is she. He backs away. The girl looks up at her, “Thank you” she mutters. At times it is good to be a beast, Angelica thinks. She may not have much. But at once she has become happy. At least in this moment, her purpose has been clear.
C O RY The wheat was growing, grows with happiness, lazy golden, in the summer swinging her scythe, heat, begging for the slice heaving sheaves of heavy of the scythe. Virgo sighed. gold over her shoulder, with It was the season of the every note, stronger still. As reap. But the marching she turns her head another masses did not arrive. She voice meets her own. Her looked toward the horizon, helpers have arrived. Her waving back and forth like song has brought them. She a metallic shimmering sea. is saved. Impending doom. Storm clouds gathering as the day grows late. How will she save the harvest from ruin? Without her legions the crop will get wet, the wheat destroyed. Virgo stares her anger long dead silent in the eye. Donâ€™t shut me down. The words come fast like a string of pearls breaking apart, dropping on the floor. Ricochet. Faster and faster firing out, swirling from curses into magic, like a spell cast. Virgoâ€™s fear vaporizing in the still air as her chest 5
S E QUA N NEVER ALONE/CALL FOR HELP S raised his fist in the air back up. Beat his wings. – he was airborne. Wind Approached. The sparrow, rushing past, high in the followed, then another and sky. He had managed to another. They swooped construct human wings. His down. A massive cloud of dream was real. Now, like bodies plunging and then a god he flew. He glanced suddenly they were a black behind him where his little canopy under Angelus, brother followed. But no. lifting him up. A blanket. Something was wrong. He Like long legs. Like stilts in was alone. Angelus wasn’t the sky. Angelus breathed there. Where was he? in a sharp inhale. He was The sound of air rushing alive. past drowned out his thoughts. And then he saw him. Falling. Far below. S called to the birds rushing past, his arms making Z’s trying to smack them, sting them into action. No amount of talking could be heard. Here in the heavens, like under water, words were useless. He caught a sparrow’s eye. He looked at the sparrow, then down to where his brother plummeted. Then 8
AYA NN A
SUMMON TRUST SUMMON CONFIDENCE SUMMON HOPE It had been years she spoke “You must wait”. As had been preparing the words left her mouth, for this moment. Nights she faced her own strength. spent working tirelessly, Still she didn’t even know if painstakingly. But now she she would succeed, but in could hear the footsteps the eyes of all around her, approaching, rushing to a small miracle occurred. the door, yelling outside, Fear had evaporated and and then inside, rushing something new shone there: her, disrupting her, telling hope. her there was no more time – “Now – you must leave – NOW!”. Here she held in her hands the code to peace between her peoples, one moment more and she could announce the key to a shared language, land, and usher in a new era. All she needed was more time. Why wouldn’t they let her finish? They must give her a chance. Though it felt as if hands closed around her throat, she stood up. Rose tall. Pivoted. Looked into their eyes. She summoned her strength. Finally, she 9
K YMA N I
STAY ALERT. RISE WISDOM OVER FORCE There it crept along the insults he’d received that floorboard, but no one day. He watched it creep knew. Row upon row of quietly towards a sleeping bed in the pitch black dark soldier, it’s tail arched over lined the walls of the room. it’s body, ready to plunge They camped out here for into thick, meaty flesh. K the night and tomorrow knew what he had to do. they would move out to the Springing silently from his next post, next mission. K bed, he brought his foot lay awake. Couldn’t sleep. down at an angle, severing Earlier that day, another the scorpion’s head from its soldier had insulted him, body. The simple act had called him small and weak. saved the life of the same He could still feel the sting man who’d offended him. of the insults. What was he Finally, he could rest. doing there? Where were they marching to and why did it matter if he were there? Should he leave? The moon light entered at an angle and suddenly he noticed the faintest movement along the wall. A scorpion! Though K didn’t know much, he knew that the sting of the poisonous beast was deadly – much more deadly than the 12
C LE O
“Don’t doubt yourself. ATTACK coming out of the blocks.” Cleo finds joy in running. She was a champion hurdler, fearless during her races at both 400 meters and 55 meters. The 55-meter hurdles — her best event — sound grueling. With only five hurdles to clear, the sprint-length category combines speed, strength and precision. There’s no room for hesitation or doubt. Cleo thrives on this adrenaline.
When she’s hungry, she gets hangry. She hates the feeling of exhaustion, of sluggishness, of time moving too slowly. But running, which brings her so much happiness, could cause serious health problems. Cleo’s lungs haven’t grown since she was a baby, even after a course of steroids. She now has the lung capacity of a three-year-old. It’s hard to imagine this mismatch between inside and outside. Cleo chooses strength over weakness.
Cleo says that aggression lives in her legs and in her head. I get the sense, talking to her, that a boundless physical energy propels her through life. She’s animated and opinionated, her hands moving quickly as she talks. When she didn’t make finals after a track meet, her anger spread like heat through her body. 13
TR E -LAW N
Swat a fly by clapping it between your hands. Tre-lawn calls anger a feeling of hate that lives in your head and your heart. For him, it can be turned on and off like a switch. It’s an emotion that courses through his whole body, making him feel unstable. He feels the same thing when someone frustrates him by breaking a promise — a sense of a switch being thrown.
sneaking up on him. Ditto for flies. He admires how his mom can kill flies in mid-air. But if Tre-Lawn had a superpower, it wouldn’t be a physical one: he would want to change people’s actions through words alone.
Overall, Tre-Lawn exudes a calm, cerebral warmth. He hates being too exhausted to think, and shares a story about keeping a friend company through a hard time to let her know that he cared for her. When it comes to creepycrawly creatures, his patience runs thin. He recoils when thinking about poisonous snakes and spiders 16
D YLA N
Roll from the ground up, shoulders back, chin high. Where does power come from? Dylan answers that it comes from inside yourself, to be anyone you want to be. But when I talk with him, he looks deflated. He lost his iPhone somewhere in the city. Seated, he slumps across the counter in front of him. His arms outstretched, he leans his cheek against the counter’s cool surface. He explains that frustration comes from anger building slowly in his body. Eventually, that frustration leads to a loss of control. He feels crazy that he can’t track his phone.
people; they form the core of who we are, from our social-media profiles to influencing what we buy. Sports make Dylan feel good. He plays defensive line and running back on his school’s football team. He loves new, comfortable clothes, the sense of feeling confident in one’s own skin. He springs up from his seat, ready to tackle his next obstacle.
Losing control seems to have drained his body. It’s clear that Dylan takes pride in taking control of his destiny. All his attention is focused on his phone. Today, our devices not only connect us to other 17
SA R I YA
Take something or someone you love and hold it close to your chest. Run for your life. It takes a lot to shock Criminals are becoming New Yorkers, but lately, productive members of bystanders in Brooklyn society. have witnessed a curious sight. Every night, a fierce Who is this evasive young woman appears on superheroine? Sariya’s the street, dressed in chic nameless alter-ego. She pink and black leather. A takes Sariya’s caring nature wind blows around her, to mythic proportions. ruffling her clothes. Smoke In real life, Sariya is a billows from under her feet. superhero to her family. She holds up her fists and She rushed her four-yearlaunches herself into the old nephew to the hospital sky. She zooms upward on foot when he gashed until she becomes a small, his head. She felt strength, racing dot, hovering over power and fear in her love the city. Rumors circulate for him. that she could be a new, nameless superhero. Mysteriously, no trace of her actions can be found on the Internet. But there’s no denying that New York is changing. It’s becoming a softer, kinder, more giving place. The homeless rate is plummeting. People with illnesses are cured. 20
A M O NI When I wake up. At the start of the day. I like everything about me. Brutally honest.
Clap your hands together. Stop their movement. If this drops, I can stop it and put it back. Attitude and aggression. In my hands, ball up my fists. And just let it go. Or in my head. Don’t do this, don’t do that. I don’t like People bossing me around. People tell me what I can and cannot do. Certain things you can’t say to People. I feel like myself when I dance. Just let it out. When the day is about to
D A MA N I Impractical power. To fill something up. If I’m ever Thirsty… If I’m ever Hungry… If my bank account is empty… You can even use it to your advantage. Say somebody is getting on your nerves, you could just fill up their bladder. Somebody ever needed something? Snap, snap, snap, everybody’s doing well. Practical power. People relating to what I like and what I like to do.
I usually feel it most in, around my chest area. It’s definitely located somewhere in my upper abdomen. Cause lower, I classify things like guilt and disgust and fear. But then higher is the more intense emotions, it’s where you feel them. There’s Rage, and you usually feel that both in your head and your heart. I always say that you feel sadness in your limbs, it’s like a heavy feeling. And then fear is something that you kind of feel in your stomach, your stomach churns or something. Disgust, obviously. Even nervousness, you can feel it in your stomach. It’s weird.
Sometimes procrastination takes over and it’s very, very frustrating. It’s like this feeling of disappointment, it fills you up. I wouldn’t say it’s anger where you feel hot, but it’s a heavy feeling. More of a disappointed anger in yourself. 24
AYA N N I A Anger lives in my feelings department. When I’m upset, I don’t say anything. I’m quiet. I get very hot, my face turns red.
yourself know you can do it, you make yourself feel more powerful.
I like to learn new things, achieve things, and walk In my stomach…the Fear of around and look at different losing people who are really things. close to me. Pink is my favorite color, It just feels weird, a nasty so it’s like my happy color. feeling, and after, it kind When I see Pink, I think of of goes numb a little bit, happiness. Breast Cancer, and then I come back. for my mom, my mom died I get cranky because of Breast Cancer, so… I’m hungry. I can’t really it reminds me of her. So, concentrate because I’m so that’s why I really like the concentrated on sleeping. color Pink. My Shyness, I tell myself I can get over it. Wave my hand in front of my face. Okay…The Power to Heal. I want to be a nurse. Deep down inside, when you sit there and let
SADE Line leader. Front of the line. Not in denial.
You don’t know what Sade you’ll get.
Annoyed or hungry, I shut down. I don’t speak to anybody. I won’t make eye contact. I’ll stay in the same position [I’ll be on my phone and my face is in my hand]. Swat a fly with anger. Feels like a rush. I can feel my blood boil. In my heart. My fists, too. If you’re antagonizing me, it’ll probably come out. You black out sometimes, get out of character. Block it out. Block everything out. Outgoing, outspoken. Play too much. I change moods a lot. I’m everywhere. 28
A D O NI S In the Greek telling of the myth of Adonis this god is killed by a wild boar said to be sent by Ares who was jealous of Aphroditeâ€™s love for him. Our real hero would choose not to engage in drama that leads to such catastrophes. When in conflict our hero can turn to the power of his mind, and step up to the higher realms of righteousness.
Aphroditeâ€™s arms. That would please our hero as his greatest desire is to know, at the end of time, he was loved. He will be long remembered. the hero of this journey will not be forgotten. For that he shall live. For that he lives.
In sync with the Adonis river that sways through Lebanon our hero immerses himself in the calm embrace of water. As he swims, Soothed by the flow he finds his center. He is alive. In the Greek telling of the myth Adonis dies in
ISET On her throne sits iset. She has prepared long and hard to acquire this sit, Her force is unquestionable. it is not fame she is after, She does not seek to be admired nor praised, All she desires is fairness and prosperity for her people. Iset- she of the throne. she still constantly trains in the art of combat with great determination so that she will have the power to protect her kingdom. secretly though she prays there will be no need to demonstrate this greatness. Iset- she of the throne. She will not bow down to anyone nor does she wish anyone bow down to her. Iset- she of the throne. Long live the queen.
C R E DI T S Mediation leaders: Naphtali Aiken - Program Director of WLG/ SYEP Programs at Community Counseling & Mediation Neville Michelin - Educational Supervisor, Senior Intake Officer Brittany Garcia - Educational Specialist
Special Thanks to: The Brooklyn Museum for providing us with rehearsal space! Suhaly Carolina - Community Relations Manager Adjoa Jones de Almedia - Director of Education Ximena Izquierdo Ugaz - Senior Museum Educator, Teen Programs Coordinator Katherine Kusiak Carey - Education Department Anne Pasternak - Shelby White and Leon Levy Director of the Brooklyn Museum Doreen Remen of Culture Corps, Founding Partner
Participating teens: Ayanna Alexander Nia Ambrose Ayannia Gill-Robinson Kymani Birkett Sariya Bland Sade Dean Tabrea James Iset Jones Damani McLauren Catreece Oden Angelia Perdomo Amoni Williams Cleo Lewis Kymani Hall Tre-Lawn Noel Sequan Lewis Dylan George Aydonis Aytch Contributing writers: Sarah Lehat (Angelica, Cory, Sequan, Ayanna, Kymani) Wendy Vogel (Cleo, Tre-Lawn, Dylan, Sariya) Ian Cofre (Amoni, Damani, Ayannia, Sade) Noa Lembersky (Adonis, Iset)
Participating Moving Company members: Tamar Ettun - Founder and Director Laura Bernstein - Social Project Director Nathan Albright Eva Davidova Tina Wang Mor Mendel Rebecca Pristoop Sabrina Shapiro Haleigh Nickerson Annabel Paran Photographer: Charlie Rubin Design: Amanda Grossman
The Moving Company presents: Pink! Stories of Play and Aggression. In collaboration with teens from the Crown Heights Mediation Center. Th...
Published on Apr 9, 2017
The Moving Company presents: Pink! Stories of Play and Aggression. In collaboration with teens from the Crown Heights Mediation Center. Th...