Staging a protest
As individuals, their voices were muted, so they joined forces to put on a play about the war in Iraq.
By Ben Montgomery, Times Staff Writer
Published July 12, 2007
The sign on the drawing board outside says "What I Heard About Iraq." Below that: "May not be suitable for children."
Inside the chapel, a woman with a guitar sings Where Have All the Flowers Gone? The seats are filling. The actors cram into the pastor's study where it's dark and quiet.
They join hands in a circle for a final prayer.
"The world is really starving for the truth," prays Greg Plantamura, "and you are the truth."
That they have come this far is no small feat. When they met 30 days ago, they were strangers. They wanted to change the world.
Some had carried protest signs and shouted into bullhorns, but they felt their voices weren't heard. Jay Alexander, who founded the local chapter of Veterans for Peace, saw the play in Seattle. It was just simple dialogue, lines stripped from news accounts and stolen from the voices of Iraqis, soldiers, politicians, but it moved him in a way that so much shouting had not. He wanted folks back home to see it, so he sent an e-mail asking for help.
Most have never been in a play. Among them are a Lebanese translator who worked in Iraq, a housewife, a computer technician, a researcher, some Quakers, two Army vets.
"Be with us, Lord," says Will Brown. "Let us go out and deliver your message."
Over the weeks, they thinned to 14 from 25. They haggled over the complexities of a play. When should we do it? Where? Who should act? Who should direct? How do you impersonate Dick Cheney? Should we use a gong? Should we allow ourselves to cry?
The play was a mess. There was no direction. Among the peaceful people, no one took charge. Nerves wore thin.
They bickered about how many chairs to use and how to deliver lines. About whether scripts should be printed on both sides of the page to save paper. About publicity. About lighting. About location. They stumbled over words and missed cues and wondered if they'd get it together.
"We are your prayer," says John Arnaldi.
Then a woman came to them. Samm Simpson had experience in theater. She knew stage right from stage left. She took control.
They practiced on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Saturdays as the U.S. casualties in Iraq climbed from 3,497 to 3,601, the number they're wearing on stickers over their hearts.
"This play has a life of its own," says Steve Kinney. "It has sucked us in."
They wondered if they'd be ready in time, if they'd embarrass themselves before their peers, until, at last, there was no time to worry.
They open their eyes.
"I feel that we have become one voice," says Lois Price.
They break hands and wait for their cue and walk onto the stage.
Ben Montgomery can be reached at bmontgomery@sptimes.com.
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Learn more
To get a schedule of future productions of What I Heard About Iraq, or to invite the troupe to perform, call (727) 734-4192 or go to www.jesusprinceofpeace.org/whatiheardaboutiraq.htm.