Test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test ♪[MUSIC]♪♪ >> Hello. Hello! Hi, everyone. I know this is the hardest part, because you're just seeing everybody, and it's exciting, but if you could start to take your seats, that would be wonderful. Thank you! We'll get started in just a moment, once everybody is settled. ♪[MUSIC]♪♪ >> Hello, everyone! [Applause] [Cheering] >> Welcome to T.C.G.'s 26 national conference and welcome to Washington, D.C.! [Cheering] [Applause] >> So this is our first plenary session of the conference. But we have been extremely busy this week. And so I want to tell you a little something about what we've been up to. First of all, our grantees have been meeting for networking and professional development opportunities since Sunday. And yesterday, we held two preconferences. We had a global preconference which brought together 125 attendees from 25 countries, for really powerful conversations about exile, migration and global collaboration. Yes? You can... [Applause] >> Our equity diversion and inclusion institute -- our inaugural cohort shared a vision developed over the last four years for racial equity, with our newly launched cohort and where we discuss the role of LGBTq theatres and ending hate crimes and discriminatory legislation. [Cheering] >> Uh-huh! >> Those conversations continue today, during the launch of the -- at the interactions arc. And I wanted to acknowledge that the Latina group has created an installation piece and it will be in the building. So I encourage all of us to visit. It expressed solidarity with the lives lost in Orlando and I'd encourage all of us to go to that wonderful piece and leave something behind. Today we also brought... [Applause] >> Today we also brought more than 200 theatre people to Capitol Hill for meetings with legislators and witnessed some powerful advocacy at work. A small group of theatre people slipped away to try and see the protest on the house floor for gun control legislation. [Cheering] So we hear that just when it looked like they'd never get in, a guard said that if they could assemble a group of 20 or more people, she'd bring them up. So they did what theatre people do best. They rallied a group of strangers into a community and the sergeant of arms brought them to witness the last 35 minutes of the sit-in. Yeah! [Cheering] [Applause] >> And that included John Lewis's closing remarks where he said we got in trouble, we got in the way, good trouble, necessary trouble, by sitting in we were really standing up. Yeah. [Applause] >> So this brings me to a confession. When we chose "Theatre Nation" as the theme of this conference, there was a lot we didn't know. We knew we'd be in our nation's capital during an election year. We knew we wanted to question our definitions of nation and citizen and ask if our theatre movement could model a more inclusive, equitable union. We knew that we had a lot to celebrate. But there was a lot we didn't know. We didn't know that this election year would be marked by a frightening rise of where nation would be defined by the building of walls and turning away of refugees. We didn't know that transgender and nonconforming people would face dehumanizing legislation that puts them at the risk of violence when all they want to do is use the bathroom. We didn't know that the sacred space of a gay bar would become a place of grief. We didn't know that the epidemic of violence against women would be revealed in a culture of silence in our own theatre community. So we're all carrying wounds from the past year. And for many here tonight, those wounds have struck terribly close to home. But we also carry something else. We carry the compassion of costume shops in Orlando, stitching together angel wings to protect families. [Cheering] >> Who would bring hate to the funerals. We carry the truth of those fighting against cultural appropriation, showing us authentic beauty instead of crypt face and leading us beyond Orientalism. We carry the courage of theatre people posting all gender signs on bathrooms, taking theatre to the streets to protest state violence against communities of color, opening the sanctuary of theatre to immigrant communities. And we carry the fire of those who said "not in our house." [Applause] >> In a time where hate seeks out the places with we gather to celebrate life and love, places like black churches and gay bars, to commit acts of violence, we carry the faith that theatre can be a radical act, radical in the sense of going to the roots of things, to the heart of the questions democracy has always asked. Can we share this world in peace? Can we spread its bounty equitably? Can we bear its pain together? Can we ever truly become one for many? So those are some of the questions we're going to be asking over the next three days, which should be more than enough time to answer them. Ha ha! [Laughter] >> It will be intense. But it will also be joyful and celebratory. We have three days with over 1,100 amazing human beings to exchange knowledge, build relationships, share new models, dine around and dance and experience the wonderful theatre city that is Washington, D.C. So to help us do just that, I'd like to welcome our host committee shares, Chris Jennings and Meghan Pressman. [Applause] [Cheering] >> Can you do yours... >> Yes. Yes. >> Okay. >> Hi! Hi! >> Hey! We are here to welcome you to D.C. With so many sights to see, from the monuments with the best site of all, the congressional sit-in for gun control. >> Woo! >> We are a city that is the central home for our country's debates. We're also an international community that houses many embassies for countries, from around the world. >> But this is not just a political center. It is also a major arts community. The national center for arts research started a new arts index and for two years running, the greater D.C. area has been ranked number one in terms of most vibrant arts major region in country! [Applause] >> And the many of us who live and work here, I don't think are surprised -- in fact I know there's at least 150 of those folks in this room. To show how vibrant that community is, would you all raise your hands? >> Woo! >> Oh, my gosh! Yes! Yes! That's great! About 25 of those folks are on the staff of Woolly mammoth. That's right! We're also home to over 95 theatre companies in this greater D.C. area, more than 50 of whom participated in the inaugural women's theatre festival this fall, all producing plays by women. Pretty awesome. So on behalf of that great community, and a tireless host committee, we welcome you! We had a whopping and I believe record 52 people serving as volunteers of the host committee in D.C., representing 21 organizations. We forged our way through with some rounds of margaritas. Not as many as we'd like. >> But a few. A few. >> And our goal as a committee was to welcome you all to the city, to recruit local attendees, volunteers, students, advocates to fund raise, to showcase the D.C. theatre community, to showcase our city and to hopefully show you a fabulous time. That took a ton of work and it was a big group. We'd like to ask all of them to please stand, so we can acknowledge their hard work over the last six months. Host committee, everybody. There's a lot of you! >> Come on. Come on. [Cheering] [Applause] >> There we go. Thank you all! In particular, I just want to shout out a few names of the folks who led communities within the host committee and did some extra heavy lifting. That includes Amy Austin, Meredith berkiss... thank you, sincerely! I truly hope that after this weekend, you'll all be as equally convinced that this is the most vibrant arts scene in the nation. Not that it's a competition. This is about everybody. >> As Teresa said, we're gathered over the next three days under the theme "Theatre Nation." I was lucky enough, the first T.C.G. conference I went to was 20 years ago when August Wilson gave that amazing speech. And as Lynn said, I got to be in the room where it happened, as a student, graduate student, watching theatre Giants that I admired in a room discussing and debating the issues that affected our community and our country. Last year, I went to Cleveland. And I got to see students and fellows who I got to work with, and I was honored to equally invite into a room and see them now, assuming roles as artistic and managing leaders in our country. >> For those of you particularly on twitter who are keeping a Hamilton reference scorecard over the next few days, that now is one. >> We get this one moment to come together as a community every year. And to remind ourselves why we're fighting to make payroll every week. And we may be a theatre nation but we are also a family, a multi-generational family of various leaders. And we are so proud to invite you, our family, into our home. Together, my family, let's over the next several days -- let's talk how to grapple with Ferguson, how to eliminate yellow face, how to prevent dividing walls being built and most of all, let's mourn our brothers and sisters that were lost in Orlando. >> So it is truly an honor and privilege on behalf of this great community and our host committee to welcome you all to our home and to hope that you enjoy a wonderful few days in Washington, D.C.! >> And some margaritas! Thank you! [Applause] >> Thank you, Chris and Meghan, who also happen to be members of the T.C.G. board. In addition to the work of the host committee, this conference wouldn't be possible without the support of our conference sponsors. I am going to name all of our sponsors right now. I'm going to ask you to hold your applause until I'm finished. But this is -- we're just profoundly grateful to all who have supported this conference. Bank of America. D.C. commission on the arts and humanities. Disney creative. Weissburg foundation. Theatre mania ovation ticks. Ruth Easton fund. Edgerton foundation. Intrinsic impact. Patron technology. The KAFORTS foundation. The Sherry and Les biller family foundation. National Endowment for the Arts. Ridgewell's catering. August wine group. Chronicle of philanthropy. Scott B. slider. Lynn Deering. Abby Luol. Anita ANTUCHI. And Andrew armormnd. And now we can express our love for them. [Applause] >> Thank you. Now it's my pleasure to welcome one of the great leaders of our field who seems to be under the impression she's retiring. Ha! I have no doubt that even in retirement, from the national performance network, M.K. wegman will remain a force in our national field. Yeah! You can clap for M.K. [Applause] >> Most especially in her two homes in Georgia and New Orleans, Louisiana, and it's to honor a fellow resident of the Crescent City that we welcome M. K. to the stage to present our Visionary Leadership Award. Come on up, M.K. [Applause] >> Don't start me to talking or I'll tell everything I know. I first heard those words from John O'Neal at a reading of volume one of the Junebug series of plays in the Marengo street commune in New Orleans in 197 As a cofounder of the Free Southern Theatre, the cultural arm of the civil rights movement, a field director of the student nonviolent coordinating committee and a national field program director with the committee for racial justice, John O'Neal had a vision for theatre as an organizing tool. As a strategy to use great art to support a press people in their -- oppressed people in their struggles for justice. At the demise of the Free Southern Theatre, Junebug Productions emerged. The Junebug plays became the core artistic source of how that vision manifested over the last 35-plus years. Anchored in New Orleans, this work has reached global communities. I use the word communities and not just audiences, because the vision is to contribute to a movement for justice. The stories come from people and are given back to people in performance, a complete circle. John O'Neal has written 18 plays and he performed in most of them as well. Touring these plays was a lifeblood. A means of support for Junebug Productions' work. But that only scratches the surface of his visionary leadership. John was an active collaborator and commissioner of other artists' work, a traveling Jewish theatre, roadside theatre, just some of the companies with whom John co-created and performed and who were enlisted. Under John's leadership, at least three major national projects were developed, organized and presented by Junebug Productions. A value diction without -- VALdiction without warning. In the 1990's, the echo environmental justice festival. A five-year project was commissioned and presented nine new performance works, each created through partnerships between communities from across the United States, artistic companies from across the United States and Louisiana activist organizations. And after 2005, in partnership with alternate roots, the Katrina project, an ensemble of Gulf Coast artists who devised a touring work, including those 100,000 people who have still not been able to return home in the reach of that touring production. John also brought his leadership to serve the field, including alternate roots and the American festival project, as well as committees, panels and task forces, too neumable to name. He always stepped up when asked. Many of us have a vision. John O'Neal's vision lives on in the legacy of his work, in his plays, in the organizations he founded and led, and the communities that have been touched by him. I am honored to present the T.C.G. Visionary Leadership Award to the man I have been listening to for the last 35 years, John O'Neal! [cheering and applause] [Applause] [Cheering] >> Thank you. This one? This one? Oh, yeah, that's the one. [Laughter] >> Yeah. I don't know these things from each other. Ha ha! Thank you. Thank you for being here. And for participating in all the hard work that you've had to do to make this evening happen. Thank you. And let us all make a commitment to keep on working harder and getting stronger. Thank you very much! [Cheering] [whistling] >> Thank you, John! You've been such a good friend to me and to T.C.G. over the years. Now we're about to take a moment to honor a seminal moment in conference history, one that Chris Jennings just referenced. 20 years ago, august Wilson stood on the T.C.G. national conference stage and delivered his remarks, the ground on which I stand. It was a powerful cry for full creative autonomy for black artists and equitable funding for black theatres, prompting a follow-up debate with Robert that was moderated by none other than our plenary speaker this evening, Anna Deavere Smith. But before we honor that moment, I want to acknowledge that 20 years before that, someone else delivered similar remarks on the very first conference stage back in 1976. He spoke of the power of theatre and his people's struggle for liberation against oppression and poverty. That speaker's name was John O'Neal. [Applause] >> And he was accused of separatism in the New York times article, by none other than Robert Brucesteen. So where does our ground stand now? Before we ask that question, we wanted to share with you an audio excerpt from august's address those 20 years ago, the very first T.C.G. national conference that I ever attended. >> I speak about economics and privilege and if you will look at one significant fact that affects us all, in the American theatre, is that of the 6 theatres. There is one that can possibly be considered black. From this one could falsely assume that there aren't a sufficient number of blacks working in American theatre to sustain and support more theatres. If you did not know, I will tell you. Black theatre is alive and it's vibrant. It is vital. It just isn't funded. Black theatre doesn't share in the economics that would allow it to support its artists and supply them meaningful avenues to develop their talent and broadcast and disseminate ideas crucial to its growth. The economics are reserved as a privilege to the overwhelming abundance of institutions that preserve, promote and perpetrate white culture. This is not a complaint. This is an advertisement. [Laughter] >> Since the funding sources, both public and private, do not publicly carry avowed missions of exclusion and segregated support, this is obviously a glaring case of oversight. Or... Perhaps we, proponents of black theatre, have not made our presence or our needs known. I hope tonight to correct both of those oversights and assumptions. I do not have the time in this short talk to reiterate the long and distinguished history of black theatre, often accomplished amid adverse and hostile conditions. But I would like to take the time to mark a few high points. There are and have always been two distinct and parallel traditions in black art. That is art that is conceived and designed to entertain white society and art that feeds the spirit and celebrates the life of black America by designing its strategies for survival and prosperity. An important part of black theatre that is often ignored but is seminal to its tradition is its origins on the slave plan plantations of the south. Some went to the big house to entertain the sloaf owner and -- slave owner and his guest. It reached its pinnacle in the heyday of the Harlem renaissance. This entertainment for whites consisted of whatever the slave imagined or knew that his master wanted to see and hear. This tradition has its present life, counterpart in the crossover Ayers crossover artists, material for white con supping consumption. The second was when he sought to conceive in his art and song and dance a world in which he was the spiritual sensor and his existence was a manifest act of the creator from whom life flowed. He could then create an art that was functional and furnish him with the spiritual temperament necessary for his survival and the humanizing status attendant to that. I stand myself and my art squarely on the self-defining ground of the slave quarters and I found the ground to be hallowed and made fertile by the blood and bones of the men and women who can only be described as warriors on the cultural battlefield that affirmed their life's work as there is no idea that cannot be contained by black life. These men and women found themselves to be sufficient and secure in their art and in their instructions. [Applause] >> So where does our ground stand now? Is black theatre in the work of all theatres of color more equitably funded than 20 years ago? Do black artists and all artists of color have full creative autonomy to tell their stories authentically? Do those stories reach the communities who need them for their survival? Questions like this were explored in a recent series of articles in American theatre where we asked a diverse group of theatre people to respond to Wilson's essay. And their own take on the ground beneath us now. We'll also hear from community legacy leaders of color, theatres of color as part of our ground at 20 arc here at the conference. I strongly encourage you to attend at least one of these sessions to bear witness to these essential voices. There's an insert with more information in our packets. And now it is my great pleasure to welcome the moderator of that famous debate between Wilson and Brucesteen and one of the greatest artist of our theatre field through works like "twilight in Los Angeles." She has created a new kind of theatre, matching her gifts as an actor with a willingness to engage difficult social issues all grounded in a passionate curiosity for the hundreds of interviewees whose stories have seeded her work. She's received a MacArthur Fellowship and was a runner-up for the Pulitzer prize. She's university professor at New York university where she also directs the institute on the arts and civic dialogue. Please join me in welcoming Anna Deavere Smith to the stage! [Cheering] >> Thank you so very much and thank you, Teresa, thank you, Devin, Hannah, Natalie, Gus for all the work you've done to get me here and thank you, Stephanie Schneider, in my office for pushing everything along. It is -- I don't have a word for it. I don't want to say intimidating or... I don't want to make myself seem real small, because I think about that thing that was said, don't be humble. You're not that great. [Laughter] >> But it is true that it is awesome to have spent some time looking back, reading back, thinking back to the Wilson debate and also to be here with John O'Neal. John, I don't know if you remember that when I was a student at Act and I needed to go to New York and I lived by the diary of the Free Southern Theatre, I took a bus across country in order to stop and meet you. And you remember when we took that drive from New Orleans to Florida? And it changed my life. And it informs the work that I have been doing for decades. I have to thank you too. [Applause] >> Okay. So they asked me to speak for 45 minutes. End of summer, 196, I had -- 1966, I had stepped off the campaign trail which is where I spent the summer and fall of 1996, during research for my play, house arrest, commissioned by the stage. I think Steven Richard is here tonight and maybe Doug is too. The American press, the relationship of the press to the presidency. I was traveling on both president Clinton's campaign plane and Bob Dole's. I even traveled with the young Republicans on a train to San Diego, where their convention was. I got home to San Francisco, had a brief break. And into my road-weary suitcase I threw alcohol-saturated pros, big sur. I was bound there for rest and reinvigoration. Along the truly dramatic California coast, I tossed in some Edda James C.D.'s. The press culture remained chronically unread until the end of my journey. And a small New Testament. I had stopped off in the campaign trail more than once during that summer to visit where black churches had been burned to the ground in the south. And reverend weaver, Pentecostal preacher whose church had been burned, one brown eye, one white eye. He made so many biblical references that I didn't understand when we had our breakfast one morning in a backwoods diner. Somehow in the midst of this packing, I got a message. This was before text, before the proliferation of e-mail. From Don Shirley, critic at the Los Angeles times. He wanted to know my opinion of the debate. I was so ensconced in presidential campaigns that I thought he was talking about Lincoln-Douglas. [Laughter] >> And I was sort of out of it in terms of theatre. I was out of the real world of theatre. And, of course, what he was talking about is what we now call ground. I read both. We've had the advantage of hearing some of it today. And as I sort of sniffed around, people were very shocked at Wilson's passion. Maybe they were shocked because of his stature in the theatre. Seemed like he'd be happy or content. [Laughter] >> Very decorated. Pulitzers, Tonys. Brucesteen came as a result of his not getting a Tony award that very year. I will propose that August Wilson's discontent was less about his own situation and more about the situation of his race. Bruce Steen was among those critics in the 90's who cautioned us or flat-out denounced "victim art" which is what he thought the speech was. I returned the call from the side of the road somewhere around Salinas. I said to the journalist, thank you. I said, you know, that I was calling about his request. He seemed very surprised that I had called back so soon. He said thank you for calling back so soon. I said, sure, but I can't talk to you about that debate, because I haven't spoken to either Mr. Wilson or Mr. Bruce steen. A long pause. Oh. While I was in big Suhr sur, I got an idea. I thought about one of my favorite recorded human interactions, a rap on race. Margaret Mead had invited James Baldwin to have a long conversation about race. They talked for hours. I had bought records, when they were -- but vinyl is coming back. Six-record set at the American museum of natural history. It was a long, exciting talking, sharing of ideas! Sort of broke into full-fledged verbal battle every once in a while. So staring at the fantastic rock art at the beach, I thought about that exchange. And I thought, wow! Maybe, maybe we could do something with Brucesteen. And with Wilson that would be like that. I'm going to just read a teeny tiny bit of it. We think a lot about gender, so the voices I'm going to go back and forth, between Baldwin and Mead. Mead has a much deeper voice. Well, I'm just sorry! So when I'm like that, I'm her. And Baldwin's voice kind of skips across, like skipping across a lake. We talk about spiritual... Let's talk about power. That's him. [Laughter] >> So we start with Mead. The what I'm trying to consider is whether it is an inevitable difference in the spiritual sense. Well, we can't talk about the spiritual sense. We are talking about power. I'm talking about that south African minor on whom the entire life of the western world is based. Well, I'm just sorry, because it isn't only based on that south African minor, it is based on -- it's the same principle. >> It isn't the same principle. As long as you're going to continue making it racial. >> You are being racial! >> Charles Dickens talked about kids being dragged through the mines long before anybody discovered Mead. >> That's right! >> But, you know, we're not having a rational conversation at this point. What I feel is this. We agree that we're both Americans. We agree in a sense of responsibility for the present and the future. You have approached this present moment by one route. And I have approached it by another. In the terms, in the colors of our skin, you represent a course of victimization and suffering and exploitation. Everything in the world. And I represent -- now wait a minute. If you just use skin color, I represent the group that were in the a-- they were the conquerors, had the power. Own the land. Say anything you like. All right. Now, here we both are. Now, furthermore, nevertheless... [Laughter] >> Is it necessary for you to narrow history, and I still think this is the phrase, and express only despair or bitterness while I express hope? And is this intrinsic to our position at the moment, or can we, both of us, out of such a different past, and such a different experience, and a contemporarily different experience, because you in your own country, wherever you go, are likely to meet with insult, indignity, danger, yeah! Whereas, wherever I go, on the whole, if they hadn't heard me say I was in favor of marijuana, I am greeted on the whole with kindness. So... Now... Given that fact, can we both, nevertheless, stand shoulder to shoulder, a continent or ocean away, working for the same future? Now, I think this is the real problem. >> So I thought about that. Ha! [Applause] >> When I was on the beach, rap on race. I thought, I've always wanted to see a modern rap on race. That happened in the 70's, kind of putting together the pieces of what happened after the civil rights movement in the 60's. And I couldn't think of any white people, really, then or now, who would speak as truthfully, as candidly and as relentlessly openly as Margaret Mead. Both Mead and Baldwin were in pursuit of not one individual truth but an American truth. Okay. So I thought, I gotta get Wilson and Brucesteen together. Wilson has that fire of Baldwin. Brucesteen has the candor of Mead. Back in Washington. I'm living in the home of a Democrat and Republican. Republican congressman in the kitchen. There is a sticker that says the road to hell is paved with Republicans. And then a magic marker was written except for AMO, being a Republican congressman. From the fourth floor of this extraordinary home, which Priscilla learned during my stay had slaves and their owners during the 19th century, from the fourth floor of this extraordinary home, I called August Wilson. And I said, have you and Robert actually debated your ideas in person? No. Would you do that, if I could arrange it? Yeah. If you'll moderate it. Then I called Robert, asked the same question. Got the same answer, including, yeah, if you'll moderate it. For the purpose of history, let me tell you that my idea was to have that conversation in a very nice conference room at New York university. Where I was in residence that fall, on leave from Stanford. That idea fell through. I'll tell you off the record sometimes why. [Laughter] >> I needed a Plan B. How could those three monologues go down as a debate in the theatre? We know the difference between monologue and dialogue. So I called John Sullivan, who was president of T.C.G. at the time. The debate, after all, had started at a T.C.G. conference. He was very excited about this idea. He called me back, maybe about a week later, and suggested we do it at town hall. Town hall? That seemed like a much bigger event than I had in mind. But if the staff of T.C.G. felt that that -- that the idea warranted such attention, go for it. Set about researching. Both men in a frenzy. Somewhere close to the event, someone told me to call the person in charge of P.R. I will note it was an outside firm. It wasn't T.C.G. A lot of excitement on the other end of the phone. I was told that people were already betting that Wilson would take the fight! [Laughter] >> Ringside! Uh-oh. The circus ensued. In my introductory remarks, I had alluded to that conversation between James Baldwin and Margaret Mead. But on that stage at town hall, neither gentlemen had much of an appetite to engage in conversation. During the intermission, staffers descended upon me as if myself were in a boxing ring, about to be eaten alive, with insistent notes to help me "pick it up" and make the event more exciting. As the timer indicated that the end was coming, I asked each gentleman if they had learned anything from each other. Robert said he had learned that August Wilson was really a teddy bear. Wilson responded that he was, make no mistake about it, a lion. Those brief last words are reported in the New York times. Lonnie, scholar, a legal scholar, had come to town to see the event. I met very few people in the academy who are as generous and open as Lonnie. She called me the next morning and she said, I want to help you. She said I really should have assembled Robert and Wilson in a room alone, just like that Mead-Baldwin conversation you talked about. What I could, what hope-aholic me, hope was going to be a deep dive into different ideas about art and theatre. It was not even the boxing match people thought it would be. I think the two gentlemen said all they had to say in print. In short, in my mind, the on-stage debate between Wilson and Robert moderated by Smith was a disaster. Spectators. Why would we as a community allow ourselves to be spectators at that event? It has a lot to do with how it was presented to us. Now, I want to talk to you a little bit about spectators and audiences. Some of you are kind of young, so I'm not going to assume that you know about my work. I've been traveling around America with a tape recorder. My grandfather said, if you say a word often enough, it becomes you. So I've been trying to become America, word for word. If there are any psychiatrists in this audience, would you would probably say my search for American character is a healing strategy to help me from having grown up in segregation. Segregation hit me many in a way that caused me to question the degree to which survival required me to lose my own imagination. Martin, I vow we can either have I-it relationships in which we turn persons into things, or we can have I-THOU relationships, where we struggle with what I call that inevitable broad jump towards the other. The tape recorder has given me the necessary distance to come close to strangers. I tape-record people usually about controversial events and principle on both sides of the controversy. But in reality, not always. And then I learn what I have recorded, word for word. I try to put myself in other people's shoes, the way -- I try to put myself in other people's words the way you might think about putting yourself in other people's shoes, which should be part of our art here in the theatre. So I'm writing a new play. Called "notes from the field, doing time in education" and I want to tell you about something that is maybe happening in your towns and something that, you know, Molly wrote to me. Molly, are you here yet, in the arena? Molly Smith? She wrote to me and told me about the activism in the air and Teresa has just talked to us about being radical. This is an opportunity for theatres to reach out into communities and have radical acts. So if you didn't know, the United States department of justice came up with some statistics revealing that black, brown and Native American poor children are disciplined more harshly and expelled and suspended from school much more frequently than their middle class brothers and sisters. These often results in residencies in juvenile hall. As California chief justice of the supreme court says, if you're not in school, you're in trouble. So I've been traveling at four geographic areas, northern California to Stockton, a bankrupt city. Further up the coast, to an Indian reservation. Charleston, along the corridor of shame, so-called because of the state of their public schools. I have done 240 interviews. Daniel, who preinterviews people for me, has done 50. Sow it's a lot of people we've talked to. And I got very excited as we did -- as I did these interviews and met these people, that we just might be on the verge of a new civil rights movement! Cheryl, who is the president of the NAACP legal defense fund says that where that civil rights movement will happen, at the intersection of education and law enforcement. She calls for an investment in education and a fairness in law enforcement that will be as large and as grand as the interstate highway system. Imagine that. We as Americans know how to make big investments. And I'm particular excited about the possibility of a new civil rights movement, especially because of John O'Neal's work and the journal of the Free Southern Theatre. I long to think of a way that theatre could walk side by side. So with the movement. So I'm going to give you a little bit from that work that is still in progress. Because I want to propose to you that we could and we do need a civil rights movement, right now. So first of all, how many of you know about the story of Freddie Gray? Applaud if you do. [Applause] >> So in my hometown, Baltimore, Maryland, a young man named Freddie Gray on a bike was beaten by police. You probably know that there had been a series of trials, and in fact today officer Goodson, the driver of the van who had been charged with involuntary manslaughter, misconduct in office, was acquitted. We're three trials in. As I moved around my city, now broken, frayed, I met a young man named Alan Bullock. Last year you recall there were riots in Baltimore. And, you know, we video but we get videoed. And one of the videos that was taken by the press was of a young man named Alan Bullock tearing up a police car. Bail was 500,000 for him. He did go to trial. Got 12 years. They took it down to six months. But I want to share with you first Alan Bullock, because I think he's a kind of a... A stenographer of his community and what goes on for young kids of color and police officers. This is in his lawyer's office. This is Alan Bullock. Now, by the way, one of the things that was a part of that story about Freddie Gray is he had made eye contact with the police officers and this is what started the interaction. Alan Bullock called this. Word for word, from my interview. I don't even look the police wait to tell the truth. It's not even me. If they look at me, I shake my head. If I look back, I'm not gonna lie to you, so I always do it. You look at the police so hard and so straight, I see how he was, Freddie Gray, in a way, like around this neighborhood? If the neighborhood police know you in the neighborhood, they don't care about none of that. They gonna do something to you. I don't care what neighborhood you be in, a quiet neighborhood, anything. If they know you from being bad, not even being bad, being in an area, hanging with somebody, that they know that's bad, they're going to rash you. And when they rash you -- why you looking at me like that! They will ask you, why you looking at me like that? Pulling they stick, all that. And I had the police ask me, why am I walking in the street? Why are you crossing the street? What you mean why am I crossing the street? They say, there's no need for you to get out of your car, come talk to me. They don't even say excuse me, sir. Just ask me why am I crossing the street. Not none of that. So what are you -- ST! Huh. A whole lot of police out here, just phew, being police, being what they do. Be smart. Be smart. That's all there is to it. I don't know what you doing. That's your hustle. Got something on you. Don't even pay the police no mind, don't even draw no attention. But even if you don't got nothing on you, I still don't expect you to draw no attention to the police. They don't even care, even if you don't got nothing on you. Why mug the police? I don't pay the police no mind. I don't pay the police out here no mind. They mug me all day. I don't care about none of that. Understand that I'm out here in these streets. Four times I think they beat me like four times. Four times. I think I remember four times. It's nothing you can do to protect yourself from the police, except run your mouth. And if you really run your mouth, they're gonna do something to you. And then if they chase you and they catch you and they can't find nothing on you, oh, they gonna make it worse. They gonna beat you straight like that. It don't matter. It don't matter if they black or white, at this point. This ain't no black or white situation. I ain't trying to hear that! I seen plenty of black officer, do it to black people. I seen plenty of white officers do it. I seen them do it together. This ain't no racist thing. It's a hate thing. What's the point of you beating me, locking me up, if you can't find nothing on me? Why? Because I made you run? Come on now. You trained for that. [Laughter] >> Police be just hating, hateful people. They could see you have a couple olives in your hand and they think you're doing wrong. What is it with you? I work! Yet you pull me over, where is this money come from? Ain't got no right to ask me where this money come from. Ain't got no warrant, no nothing. Put your hands on me, period, but hey, they do it. And I'm not gonna stand up here and fuss with you 'bout none of that, because I know you the police. And you got a big stick. So... So, hey. [Applause] >> A lot of the people making a difference in these communities, saving lives, are doing so with very little, very, very little on Indian reservations, in Latino neighborhoods, black neighborhoods. And many of them, of the blacks and Latinos are Christians. Native Americans have their own spirituality. So a lot of times, among those interviews, towards the end, I would say to folks, well, what would Jesus think? They always had credible stuff to say. But I started thinking, what would Baldwin think? So we go back to a rap on race. Again, this is not an interview that I took. This is word for word from a section of a rap on race, Margaret Mead and James Baldwin. Ginsburg, said don't call a cop a pig. Call him a friend. Call him a friend. Act like a friend. I know a lot more about cops than that. And I don't care how well a cop is educated. I know what their role is in my life. And I will not accept it. I don't like being a subject nation. I do not like being corralled. And if I have to turn into a monster, trying to change it, that is a risk that my soul will have to take. I'm not being objective. Objective. We're talking about time, present, time past. Talking about history being present. According to the west, I have no history. I have had to rest my identity out of the west. We did, on that famous day in Washington, when Martin Luther King gave the "I have a dream," I was there. Do you know the answer we got? Two weeks later, 10 days later? Do you know the answer we got out of that enormous petition? Do you know the answer? The republic gave us? My phone rang one Sunday morning and a court worker was telling me she could barely talk. Four black girls had been bombed into eternity in a Sunday school in Birmingham. That was the answer the republic gave us. We are the republic. Includes you, includes me too. Includes me too. We're responsible. I'm responsible. I didn't stop -- try to stop it. Doesn't matter what one tries. God knows, you know, I'm not the least interested in carrying on the nightmare. But if I pretend that it did not happen, that I was not there, then -- then -- then I cannot live. I It was really terrible, really terrible, the burnings, bombings, bad enough. But what's really terrible is to face the fact that you cannot trust your countryman. You cannot trust them, because the assumptions by which they live are antithetical to any hope that you may have to live. And the terrible omen , when you see an American flag on is somebody's car -- on somebody's car, and realize that's your enemy, you, his countryman, you, his brother, in principle it's your flag too. But it is like that. That's what I mean by history being present. I'm not talking about going back. Nobody can, any way. We're responsible. I don't mean we have a bill to pay back. But if I have offended you, if I come to you and say I'm sorry, and if I don't do that, I cannot live. If I've offended you, I have to come to you and say I'm sorry. Please forgive me. And if I can't do that, then I cut off from all -- cut myself off from all life, all air. Luckily, I'm not 15, because if I were, how in the world would I achieve any respect for human life or any sense of history? And history is a concept that exists in almost nobody's mind. I'm trying to say this. That if I were young, I would find myself with no models and that's a very crucial situation, because what we've done, our generation, the world we've created, if I were 15, I would feel hopeless too. So what we've got to try to face, what I'm trying to get at is -- I read a little book when I was in Istanbul. Called "the way it's supposed to be" and it was poetry and things written by little black children, Mexican, Puerto Rican, land of the free, home of the brave. And the teacher had made a compilation of all the poems these kids wrote and he respected them. And he dealt with them as if they were -- as if in fact all children, as if in fact all kinds of human beings are some kind of a miracle. And something wonderful happened. Ha ha! One boy wrote a poem. Ha! 16 years old. He was in prison. It ended, four lines. I will never forget. Walk on water. Walk on a leaf. Hardest of all is walk in grief. Very tiny book, only 30 pages long. So what I'm trying to get at is I hope this tremendous national, moral, global waste, the question is, how can it be arrested? Enormous question. You and I, we've become whatever we've become. The curtain will come down eventually. But what should we do about the children? We are responsible. And responsible for the future of this world. [Applause] >> And, you know, I don't think that guilt helps us. I hope that the Wilson, you know, extraordinary essay didn't just fill some of us with guilt. Because guilt is not active. So, you know, Baldwin is asking for an apology. You've been bringing up the name of John Lewis. I'm talking about the civil rights movement. I think the last thing I want to do for you is look at something about that last civil rights movement and action that has happened as a result. And I want to thank Derek Goldman and Cynthia Schneider for helping me when I was working on this at Georgetown. John Lewis. This is called "brother." On our way, on this trip, that we've been taking for the past 13 years, members of Congress, I've been going back every year since 196 To commemorate the anniversary of bloody Sunday that took place on March 7, 1965. But we usually stop in Birmingham for a day. And then we go to Montgomery for a day. And then we go to Selma. But on this trip, to Montgomery, we stop at first Baptist church, which is the church that was pastored by the reverend Abernathy, same church where I met Dr. Martin Luther King, reverend Abernathy in the spring of 1958. Young police officers, the chief, came to the church to speak on behalf of the mayor, who was not available. And he gave a very moving speech. The church was full, black, white, Latino, members of Congress, staffers, children, family members, children and grandchildren. And he said, what happened in Montgomery 52 years ago, during the freedom ride, when you arrived, was not right. He said the police department didn't show up. They allowed an angry mob to come and beat you. And he said congressman, I'm sorry for what happened. I want to apologize. This is not the Montgomery that we want Montgomery to be. This is not the police department I want to be the chief on. Before any officers are hired, he said, they go through training. They have to study the life of Rosa parks. They have to study the life of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. They have to know the historic sites of the movement, what happened in Birmingham and what happened in Montgomery and what happened in Selma. He said, I want you to forgive us. He said, to show the respect that I have for you and the movement, I want to take off my badge and give it to you. The church was so quiet. No one said a word. And I stood up to accept the badge. And I started crying. Everybody in the church started crying. It was not a dry eye in the church. I said, officer, chief... I cannot accept your badge. I am not worthy to accept your badge. Don't you need it? He said, congressman, I could get another one. I want you to have my badge! [Laughter] >> And I took it. And I'm never, ever gonna forget it. And I'm gonna hold on to it forever. But he hugged me, and I hugged him. I cried some more. You had Democrats and Republicans in the church, crying. Young, black officer. Young, black deputy assistant, sitting down. He cried so much, like a baby really, couldn't even stand. It was the first time that any police chief in any city that I visited or where I was arrested in the 60's ever apologized or where I was beaten. The moment of grace. It's a moment of reconciliation. And the chief was very young. He wasn't even born 52 years ago. But he was apologizing, asking to be forgiven, on behalf of his associates, his colleagues of the past. It was a moment of grace. It mean that the suffering and pain that so many people has suffered, have been redeemed. But for this young man to come up, he hugged me. And it felt so... Liberating and so freeing. And -- and at the same time, I feet like, you know, I am not worthy. It's an amazing grace, you know the line in there? To save a wretch like me. In a sense, it says, we all are falling short. We all just trying to make it. We all searching. Like Dr. King say, we're out to redeem the soul of America. We first have to redeem ourselves. But this message, this act of grace, of the badge, says to me, hold on. Never give up. Never give in. Never lose faith. Keep the faith. Even in a city like Montgomery, whew, I said, it take raw courage to go, to go with the spirit, to go with his soul, to go with his heart. He's a very -- he's a very, very interesting... Oh. Man. I think about calling up, saying hello to him, how you doing? Only time something like this happened before was a member of the Klan. In rock hill, south Carolina, who beat me in my seat, on May 9, 196 He came here in office. His son had been encouraging his father to seek out the people he had wronged. He came into the office. February '09. He said... Mr. Lewis... I'm... I'm one of the people who beat you on May 9, 196 I want to apologize. Will you forgive me? I said, I forgive you. Accept your apology. He heard me. His son heard me. He started crying. His son started crying. And I seen that guy four times since that time. He called me brother. I call him brother. [Applause] >> Ground. Ground, as Wilson's speech is now called. Ground. The ground on which I stand. I see it referred to sometimes as the ground on which we stand. August Wilson was a race man, as we blacks who fight for the race are called. He proudly carried the blood-stained banner of black struggle. From the point of view of his eye, some of you were moved. Others motivated. Others outraged. Others frightened. Others perplexed. Others full of guilt. In 1996, and today, when you heard Mr. Wilson's magnificent voice, you stood in relationship to August Wilson's ground. Those of you who were moved, are moved, must move. Like I said, Molly Smith and others were on the hill today. Congressman sat in. Many of you, I spoke, more than in 1996, are ready to be active and activists with your art. So action, a movement, calls for many movers, shakers and seekers. All that we can attract. Our ground seems to me to be very complex. We all meet here with different histories. Different banners of struggle. We meet at different junctures in our histories. We are a map with some intersecting points and many straying lines in search of a connection. Most of us want to board the train towards progress, equity, self-fulfillment, helping fulfill the lives of others, towards protecting all living things and towards love. I have now visited the island in Senegal. The holding pens where many Africans were held before putting on slave ships and sent to this country. But before my forefathers got here, Native Americans were on this ground. Many of them too were trance board from -- transported from their homelands to other places. The trail of tears, a national disgrace. Some right now live on fractured lands, among fractured lives and disrupted joys. Sometimes in beautiful surroundings, sometimes not. Their youth statistics tell us a epidemic of suicide, despair and depression. I was welcomed to the river in northern California. I found myself saturated by their history, their dances, their modern struggle against poverty, drug addiction, alcoholism. We share the ground with those who believe California is Mexico. Those who came in a variety of migrations from Asia, a variety of migrations from Europe, throughout American history, running from genocides or poverty or dogmas. We would not have imagined the profound otherness of the ground on which Muslims stand. We would not have imagined that 20 years ago. Gender and sexuality are in a great seismic shift than they were then. Our ground is complex also because 20 years have passed. Wilson-Brucesteen was before 9/11, the I phone, Google maps, Pandora, soul cycle, high school students primarily Latino, staging walkouts in Los Angeles, Houston and other cities, boycotting schools and businesses in support of immigration rights and equality. Blackish. Shonda rhymes. Mainstreaming of the Ted conference. The proliferation of places and journals that gather free content and charge a lot of money for you to go. A sitting United States president who visited the first sitting United States president that visited a federal penitentiary. Obama. The first United States president visited an Indian reservation. Obama. Jeremy Lin became the first American-born NBA player to be of Chinese-Taiwanese descent. The minute men project took it upon themselves to sit down at the Mexican-American border in their version of a neighborhood watch to keep people from crossing the border. The west wing television show. Reality television. The term "white privilege" moved from primary academic circles to mainstream parlance. Rashes of violence reached the peak that is sweeping us right now. Orlando, which happened just shy of one year of the memorial of the massacre at mother Emmanuel AME church in Charleston. First black president. Expectation of a potential first woman president. Katelyn Jenner. Black lives matter. Donald Trump. Okay. And you can start that -- I'm mentioning it for the second time. Hamilton. [Laughter] >> Imagine a conversation with Manuel, Miranda, Wilson and Brucesteen. What would they think of a black man playing Aaron Burr? I have for you, in conclusion, a modest proposal. Theatres are convening places. Theatres need them. Our country needs them. The world needs them. But some communities, as we know, and obviously T.C.G. knows, in the way that they have characterized this gathering, some communities do not have these experiences or these facilities in their schools or inside buildings of theatres. Many of us in this room are concerned and even horrified about the growing gap between rich and poor in this country. Many of us want to do something about inequality. But let's look at ourselves. Let's look at the American theatre. The divas institute of art management, University of Maryland, released a report. Some say it's controversial but I found some very valuable information that I did not have. Here's some statistics. The highest reported compensation for leaders in mainstream theatre is $6 The median is $388,812. The lowest paid is $316 The highest reported compensation for a Latino theatre is $88,539. The median is $51,298. The lowest is $9,97 The highest compensation in an African-American theatre is $110,000. The median is $6 And the lowest is $29,408. There was one black theatre when Wilson spoke, and lord, I know here there are none. What shall we do about our problematic statistics? Who is welcome in leadership roles? What kinds of theatres are welcome in communities? There's a study on gender parity that is being presented. Breakdown of leadership. Artistic leaders, 54 white men. Five men of color. 14 white women. One woman of color. Executive leaders. 46 white men. No men of color. 28 white women. No women of color. The good news is that they have acknowledged that this is a major problem and has launched an initiative to address it. Our situation needs a different and new economics. How can we say in our mission statements and our grant applications that we support and perpetuate the best in humans? And still live with this kind of inequality in our art form? [Applause] >> We can no longer assume that people are willing to starve to be in the theatre. We lose them to other professions. In the entertainment tri. We lose -- entertainment industry. We lose talent. Equity needs to do better by actor s and everybody else. Teresa calls for a radical theatre. Perhaps we should combine our forces. Here's my dream. Invest in some large facilities in which diverse groups of people with diverse missions can share administrative costs, share the rent, share the responsibility, for making a healthy endowment. Share the development plan, share and crisscross audiences. By diversity -- I think those who call themselves white privileged should come too. [Laughter] >> And I don't think that the work has to all be about social justice. I would like to see that. I'd like to see such a theatre dedicated to activism. But I'm not a snob. I'm not an elitist about popular entertainment. I myself just played hawk woman's past life on D.C.'s legends of tomorrow. [Laughter] >> Artistic experimentation. Artistic innovation in this theatre that I see, economic innovation. Leadership innovation. Developing skills for new leaders and new artists would be just great! Revealing more about the grounds on which we each and all stand. We find ourselves in the midst of an economic security and moral crisis. In the arts, we cannot save the world. We cannot teach reading and math through dance or drama. But we can prick and instigate the growth of a public moral imagination. [Applause] >> Develop, develop a spirit of hospitality, of radical hospitality. The best definition, let us say yes to who or what turns up before any determination, before any anticipation, before any identification, whether or not it has to do with a foreigner, an immigrant, an invited guest or an unexpected visitor, whether or not the new arrival is the citizen of another country, a human, animal or divine creature, a living or dead thing, male or female. Develop a radical hospitality towards one another. Towards all of us in our wonderful profession. Toward the global public on whose ground we stand. Thank you. [Applause] >> Thank you. Thank you, Anna, so much. Wow! The rap on race, your experience in the post ground on which I stand conversation, sharing some of your recent profound work and thought on inequality in our country and theatre community. And you also reminded us again about the importance of this multi-generational room that we're in, that John O'Neal was such a big influence in your life and work. And you know you have influenced so many people here. And also, just showing us what it means to be responsible for the future of the world. It's a great thing to take forward as we go through this conference. And we're gonna have a great opportunity, right this minute, to go and celebrate together at arena stage. And that will be a great opportunity to reflect on some of what we just heard. So I'm going to give you some details about that. First, I have just something to get you thinking about a future plenary session. We have Samantha powers speaking here on Saturday at our closing plenary, with Oscar Eustis. And we know that they would like to have some advance questions for that session. If you have some questions you'd like to have them address, they must be submitted by Friday at 12 noon. So think about that. I also want to invite you, when we get to the party -- we have a number of grantees and young leaders here, who I think it's very important for you to meet and specifically I'm going to reference the spotlight on program. And right now, if we could have -- do we have lights up? I would like the spotlight on participants, from rising leaders of color, the fox fellowship and leader programs to stand. If you are able. If not, raise your hands. [Applause] >> There's one more person that I especially encourage you to talk to at the party. Someone that we already miss very much. He's a great leader. A trusted partner and a dear friend. Kevin E. Moore. He left T.C.G. to join actors theatre of Louisville just a month or so ago. He's going to continue to make a very huge impact on our field and on every life his great heart touches. Yes! [Applause] >> We also understand that he and artistic Les waters are engaged in a serious battle of the beards. If you know Kevin and Les, that will make sense for you. But Kevin, for everything you've given T.C.G. and the field, thank you from the bottom of our hearts! This should really be a toast. So let's get to the party. You can take the K street exit by the gift shop for buses that will be running on loop from here to arena stage. That will be happening the rest of the night. Or you can just use a cab or uber. With that, thank you very much for being here! And let's go party! [Applause]