I’m still not quite sure how to format this page- I like the idea of posting some writing but it is annoying to have to scroll through it all… anyhow below is some writing and descriptions of my work- at the end is biography for those interested… thanks.x
(Below is a short piece I recently wrote for our Writing Workshop that focused on political writing- it was an interesting experience to sit down and let this out because I normally do not write non fiction in first person):
Politicization
Politics politics politics
For something I’m obsessed with you’d think it would be easier to write about.
Why am I obsessed with politics? I wasn’t always- I mean I was always interested but not obsessed. Then I somehow ended up in a war zone when I was twenty and things changed.
That’s putting it lightly- right- I didn’t like wake up and say oh ‘look I’m in a war zone’- I was there on a semester abroad- doing peace and conflict studies- cause I was looking for a challenge- as a writer- you know? One of those wonderful impulses you have at that age- when you know that you know nothing and so drive to the furthest extreme available to learn something- something real- about life- death- and so on- so where did I choose? The Middle East.
Seems like an obvious choice now but this was back in 2000 when the middle east was really not on the American radar (popularly speaking) unless you were Jewish- and I know this is going to sound bad- but those who did have an interest in Israel most of the time hadn’t actually been there and just repeated the same old… myth… that while lovely to tell had very little to do with what was happening on the ground… anyhow…
So it was an odd choice and believe it or not when I went over there was no war on. Nope. Peace process- Camp David- on track- etc etc sure there were still a lot of- um- problems- obviously but the all out conflict we’ve come to know as norm was at a low simmer at that time. And people had hope. Which is probably one of the hardest parts of those few months- watching those people with hope slowly realize how bad it actually was and that it was only going to get worse and that the life they were working so hard to – create – was gone.
One of those people was the woman who led this little expedition of ours, Allison- mid thirties, bubbly smart as a whip Lutheran hailing from Massachusetts if I remember correctly. In her early twenties she ended up studying at Hebrew University and stayed in the region basically ever since eventually landed this job where each semester she’d take a small group of American students around Jordon, Israel, and the Palestinian territories and teach them the ins and outs of war and peace.
I really do sympathize with her now- being an ex pat myself for a number of years- course at least I’m in an English speaking country- but still foreign is foreign and when you move home so completely the life you create abroad you build up brick by brick cause you are essentially creating a world from nothing- just your personality- your intellect- your desire. And if it comes crashing down- cause you happened to build in the wrong place at the wrong time- well, I know I’d be completely shattered.
She was in love there with an Israeli for many years and even converted to Judaism for a while I think with plans to marry him. But that didn’t work out. So she was Lutheran again. And then she fell in love with a Palestinian man who’s family lived in Ramallah. And he was great- and they were in love- got married- living in Ramallah both working in various capacitates for NGO’s trying to stabilize the region and she leading her little band of young Americans around blowing their little fucking minds on a daily basis (seriously a daily basis).
What happened? Well… Ariel Sharon decided to march a whole bunch of soldiers up to the Dome of the Rock/ the Temple Mount/ the Al-Aqsa Mosque- and- for lack of a better phrase- the shit hit the fan. And so the Al-Aqsa Intifada began.
I was living with a Palestinian family in Jordon. The mother was Jordanian-Jordanian and the father Palestinian who had been run out of West Bank during the 1967 war where apparently his family had been quite old/established/successful and had a lot land. There was a lot of ill will still about that one- particularly with the youngest son Maher- who was my age- who was fluent (and eloquent) in English- passionate- intelligent- angry. He would march protesting the USA during the day while I went off to class and we’d come home at night and share experiences. It was all very civilized at that point. The protesters would protest, the police would block them, then at a certain hour they’d all take a break and sit down and have tea together (the shop keepers would come running out to the street with trays of tea and cups)- have a chat- finish the tea- go back to protesting.
So living with this family- watching this unfold- seeing their anger rise daily- their grief- it was overwhelming. Or eye opening.
And then it was time to go on with the Israeli leg of our journey which brought us to Jerusalem. There we were to spend a week learning the basics- doing the important tours meeting with different political and community leaders- etc- and then we would go on to live with an Israeli family (the last portion of the semester we were supposed to have lived with a Palestinian family in the west bank)
This week was I believe the most memorable of my life in the way that every event still plays clearly- it’s full- every moment. It was the week I was politicized.
We were staying in this big hostel with a view direct of one of the main gates of the old city and in the old city that’s where all the shit was going down and we would sit on the roof and watch the smoke rise and watch the people run out and the major police/army vans go in and we couldn’t get any current news in English and this one girl in our group Shira could speak Hebrew so we’d try to sneak into the king david hotel to get news reports but it was all fuzzy it seemed besides just sitting on that roof watching the story unfold before our eyes hearing the bombs- bombs! Hitting. Killing. Cause the thing is that I think a lot of people don’t get is how small the fucking place is it’s tiny and all this- these guys are neighbors- everyone’s on top of each other so a whole crowd could be up against the army on one street and three blocks away it’s a perfectly sunny nice day and soldiers are like lazing around having lunch and all you can think is how? How?
I remember the feeling- I was sitting- on the floor of the room I was staying in- and I remember feeling the bricks flying away out from under me- it all was just flying out from under me- these columns- these assumptions- of life- it was being blown to pieces as I heard those bombs fall. Apache helicopters. It took me years to not get freaked out by the sound of helicopters after that.
So Allsion struggled on you know- trying to keep us learning- trying to follow the program. We visited the PLO headquarters in East Jerusalem and met with somebody or another who was pretty high up the chain of command and while he was giving us the ol spiel suddenly an aid runs into the room and they quickly run out and tell us to go now- fast- back to the west- and we all hopped in a van and sped away and Alison brought us straight to this Chinese restaurant and made us order and eat cause we were all in shock cause that call- that call meant people were getting shot again- close by- and it’s just shocking- that kind of rush- and she was smart- cause eating is basically one of the best things you can when everything goes insane. The ritual of it is calming. It’s society it’s security it’s civilization. So by the time it hit us- what happened- we were occupied with wontons- we were safe.
So the day the order came for us to evacuate- no rather- the incident that caused the order:
We went to visit a settlement- an extremely disputed one. And there was literally a road where there were Israeli houses on one side, and Palestinian ones on the other- and they would sit in their windows and shoot at each other. And we were getting a tour of the Israeli side- which was actually Russian- cause no Israeli- unless religious fundamentalist- wants to live in these places- so they offer tax breaks to poor Russians- some big monetary incentive- to come and occupy the settlement- and of course they come cause hey- house, land- basically just handed to you- how bad could it be? Front line of a war you have nothing to do with… so then the Russians get involved, cause they’re being shot at- right? Russian gangs now fighting the Palestinians- what a mess. Anyhow…
So this community leader guy is giving us his spiel. And then we hear gun fire- a lot of it- (it doesn’t sound like what you think it should sound like- not nearly as dramatic as the movies). It was not close- you know- but coming from the settlement for sure. We’re up in this building- and he’s talking- and it’s probably coming from- I don’t know- maybe a few hundred meters away- and it’s a lot- more than usual.
So that feeling comes- which is something I learned how to recognize over there- that sixth sense of somewhere some shit’s going down- learned to detect it by watching Allison’s eyes. So what’s going on?
We continue the grand tour by going to look at the newly planted trees that outline the settlement in the “green zone” (don’t even get me started on that bullshit…) and people are- you know- secretly on cell phones trying to get the line get the feed what is it? What is it? It’s in the air you can taste it it’s going to be bad- and Allison gets the call- the one. She says “we’re out of here- now.”
Yeah- it was bad. The Israelis were bombing Ramallah. This completely obliterated any hope that this shit was gonna die down- that it wouldn’t escalate to a full on war- they were bombing Ramallah. Why? Oh what a story. Basically Palestinians get killed in the conflict- have been getting killed- right? And they of course hold these massive funerals that can easily turn into riots. So one of these was going on when suddenly in the crowd or at a checkpoint near by some Mussad agents were discovered- Israeli secret service- or were they just Israeli army?- this part is a little blurry whether they were undercover or just wrong place wrong time. And funeral turns into mob- mob take soldiers to police station in Ramallah- and inside that station well- things don’t go so well- they go fucking animal- and one of soldiers bodies is dropped from the windows for all the world to see on television.
Probably as bad as bad could be.
So Ramallah gets bombed- Ramallah which had in it an enclave for Palestinians and internationals to live and mingle who were all trying to you know- move beyond fighting- which boasted nightclubs, jazz bars where Israelis and Palestinians would hang out together- where Allison had met her husband, where she now had her house…
In response to this the State Department said all non essential citizens of the USA should evacuate the region. Which meant the insurance for our education program was no longer valid. Within 24 hours we were on a plane to Geneva, Switzerland.
In the middle of this: it is all so intense- important and ultimately so personal. The trauma of suddenly being pulled out flown away- all of our minds were reeling. And that plane ride- lord that flight.
See Allison had just found out she was pregnant. Puts things in a different perspective. She was this strong noble leader until we got on that plane- it took off- and she knew we were safe. And then she lost it. I remember her crying- talking about her two year old nephew- on her husband’s side- who was growing up outside of Ramallah- already saying these anti Israeli slogans- just repeating what he’d hear- the hate- and their street- their street was blocked off and they were throwing tear gas and she had to stuff fabric around the windows so it wouldn’t get in the house and she’s pregnant- thinking what if? If anything goes wrong- even if she was in labor- they were stopping the ambulances- the red cross- they were holding them- they were blocking them- and tear gas- seeping in- and she had to leave. Leave her husband there and it was- it was overwhelming of course. You build a life and then suddenly this crack opens up straight down the middle and you have a foot on either side and it’s all falling to shit.
Nicole was the assistant on our program- she was a few years older than me- had done the program before and stayed on. Also in love with a Palestinian man living in Ramallah- she got blind drunk on the flight- we all did I think- or most- and laughing- we were laughing- we were crying- we were trying to process- what?
And none of us wanted to leave- it was being ripped away. It’s hard to describe- but it was absolutely being torn away from- a core- it was personal- this pain this… all these moments added up to something- all the moments where it cut closer and closer to the bone and something in your blood does start to boil something does begin to build to grow this passion this quaking need…
Seeing the mountains around Geneva as the plane descended- it was another world- I have never experienced such culture shock- such shock in my life. Suddenly there were fields and cows and a really clean city and diplomats everywhere and it just- it didn’t make sense- nothing made sense- cause it was all gone- trying to get news was like pulling teeth. Nobody cared. Really. Nobody gave a shit.
And then coming home eventually- trying to talk to people- it was so abstract- nobody cared or wanted to hear. It was still this weird specialized area only I was interested in it seemed. I might have well been describing the moon to them.
Of course then September 11th happened- and suddenly everyone cared a lot. But that’s how it goes- people are people and until the shit is at your doorstep why would you care?
It only gets real when you see the smoke rise with your own eyes.
Quotidian Debris/The passage:
I recently completed my first sound peice- a text I wrote but again confronting the problem I always have- which is my text hates to stay on the page- it suffers there- and so it was only the first time I read it out loud that I realized that’s where it needed to exist. And that first time was in a sitting on a very rainy March evening in Limerick and the yellow light was low and lovely and a couple glasses of wine were drunk and the work held power- in that intimacy- with the storm outside- in a way it was born that night. So I decided it was meant to be a sound piece and recorded the work using the fine vocal and acting talents of Maura Foley and Aidan O’Donovan and then had it printed onto vinyl records to make it physical. It was played as part of an exhibition curated by Jennie Guy- a salon- at Studio 6 in Temple Bar Gallery at the end of June and while I was thrilled it got an outing- I realized that the context was entirely wrong. Because in the end it’s not enough just to record and play it- the stage needed to be set. So it seems as much as I am trying to move away from theatre there are certain elements that keep pulling me back- the spoken word- human voice- the physical setting/stage. I suppose the piece is incomplete until I figure out how it can live in the world in the right setting- and when I do I’ll be sure to post it here for all who are curious.
The work is entitled Quotidian Debris/The Passage and I will soon post a snippet of it for ear listening.
Brief bio/history etc…
Jessamyn was born in New Hampshire and grew up in the New York City art world. Went to Sarah Lawrence College and moved to Galway, Ireland, not long after graduation. There she founded The Road Show Theater through which she wrote, directed and produced various shows. Since March of 2007 Jessamyn has been director/partner of Thisisnotashop Gallery- a not for profit alternative Dublin gallery dedicated to supporting emerging artists- located at 26 Benburb Street in Dublin 7 (www.thisisnotashop.com). Since July 2007 she has organized The Writing Workshop at thisisnotashop with Jessica Foley and has persued her own creative work at The Market Studios since Jan 2008 in a space shared with the very same Jessica Foley. Needless to say they have big plans…
Here’s a run down of past Theatrical Productions:
PRODUCTIONS
-Author Water and Discarded Hair, produced by the Emerging Artists Theatre as part of their annual FallEATfest festival, New York City, October 2007
-Author SANDWICH, production by members of the New York based Wreckio Ensemble as part of The Wonderland One-Act Festival, produced by You Are Here Productions at Theatre Row, 42nd Street, New York City, June 2007. It was selected as one of the top three plays out of the sixty produced in the festival.
-Founder of The Road Show Theater in January, 2003, in Galway, Ireland.
-Author/Producer SANDWICH, Road Show Theater’s third production, performed at 1000 000 mph Project Space, London, England, March 2005; Na Pradle Theatre part of Prague Fringe Festival, Czech Republic, June 2005; The Garage International part of Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Scotland, August 2005; Bewley’s Café Theatre as part of Dublin Fringe Festival, Ireland, Sept/Oct 2005.
-Director/Producer Keep by Meghan Kennedy, Road Show Theater’s second production, performed at Town Hall Theatre Studio, Galway, March 2004; Andrews Lane Theatre Studio, Dublin, April 2004.
-Author/Director/Producer The Mysterious World of Birds, The Road Show Theater’s debut production, performed at The Town Hall Theatre Studio, Galway, and at Bewley’s Café Theatre as part of the Dublin Fringe Festival, September 2003. Received a four star review from The Irish Times.
-Author We Need An Enemy, original one-act play based on experience in Middle East and the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, produced by Sarah Lawrence Theater Department, March 2002.
-Co-author of collaborative ensemble play, Painter’s Theater: Outside the Lines, produced by the Sarah Lawrence Theater Department, directed by department head Shirley Kaplan, December 2001.
-Author Haint Blue, one-act play, produced by Sarah Lawrence Theater Department, March 2000.
-Co-author of full-length ensemble play, Pieces and Parts, produced by Communicable Arts Theater Company and the Sarah Lawrence Theater Department, in Bronxville, NY, April 2000.
-Author A Filthy Orange, original full-length play based on ensemble work done with director Howard Meyer, staged reading in Mt. Kisco, NY, Spring of 1997.
-Author/Director Party Line original one act performed at Weston High School, Weston CT, June 1996
