Reflection: I Once Knew a Girl...Unheard Stories of Women

In late October I went to a production at The Playhouse in town.  It was called "I Once Knew a Girl...Unheard Stories of Women."  The play was directed by Teya Sepinuck, the creator of Theatre of Witness, a form of performance that is meant to bring audiences together "to bear witness to the true personal and collective life stories of those who have been marginalized."  The participants involved have experienced the issues explored and presented; performers include refugees and immigrants, survivors and perpetrators of war and violence, and witnesses to significant societal issues.  It's a brilliant medium to allow for individual storytelling and healing, as well as collective understanding and appreciation.

Six women who lived through the Troubles told their stories.  They were all of different backgrounds, conflicting backgrounds with histories that joined in violence, sorrow, and loss.  One woman was an active member of the Provisional IRA in her teenage and early adulthood years.  Two women were raised in staunch Protestant, British households.  Another woman was burnt out of her childhood home more than once, living a troubled nomadic life.  Another woman was widowed 20 years previously, and works with ex-paramilitaries in a peace and conflict resolution organization.  The final participant could not perform live because she is an active police officer, and appeared in film instead.  Half of the women in the performance suffered some form of sexual and domestic violence and all of them were affected by the Troubles.

As an audience member, I was completely consumed by the stories of the women.  Part of me felt uncomfortable listening to them relay their experiences, not because of how upsetting they were, I realized, but because they were being told in a public sphere.  But I think that's the point of Theatre of Witness, to challenge the audience (and the actors) to listen to very personal stories in a context in which it cannot be ignored.  It is especially effective I think, because people in both the north and south of Ireland often keep secret their personal problems.

For the most part, the performance left me speechless.  How do you respond when you find out a woman's husband was made into a human bomb by the IRA 20 years ago?  How can you begin to understand her ability to work with ex-paramilitaries five years later?  If anything, I left with the knowledge that story-telling is a powerful and brilliant way of initiating or advancing the healing process.