A Play, On Words

                A Play, On Words 

Camilla:

“It was a dark and rainy night, or would stormy work better?”

“You aren’t planning on using that tired old cliché to begin with, are you? Our play is supposed to be about peoples ideologies and relationships, and we ain’t the Walton’s, if you know what I mean.”

“What you all laughing at. I know who the Walton’s were. They lived on the lane, just down the road from the old hanging tree before it got struck by lightning. If you can do better with story writing, then do better! Just because I drew the rotten apple, don’t mean I’m good at story telling. This wasn’t my idea if you remember, Beatrice!”

“I remember the Ground Hog party you were going to throw for Matilda but couldn’t find a ground hog. Did we laugh at you? Maybe a little. I’m no writer either. Never had the chance to go to school with the other kids. They made me and mother live out on the shore away from everyone. The irony of it all was that we lived on Bishops Beach. And we were the ones they called witches. I got where I am today, not with any help from a ground hog, I’ll have you know, but by sheer stubbornness, and I like to read.”

“Let me interject, before Camilla flies off to where ever she flies off to. I would like to introduce you to Maria. She has asked to do a story on our project, and our intention to create a play depicting the prejudice and expulsion of those presumed to be different. I thought the exposure would help our cause. Now, please continue.”

Camilla:

“Not all of us are witches. A few might be. But we keep to ourselves, don’t bother anybody. But it doesn’t matter. They treat us like we have leprosy.”

Matilda:

“Do we always have to talk about the awful things in life? I get tired of the same old, same old. Can’t we come up with something entertaining to dream about for once?”

Camilla:

“What, you don’t like hangings anymore? I remember when you’d get all fired up for a week before they hung somebody. Especially if they were considered witches, but then wasn’t anyone deemed different.

Now, you are too good for that I suppose.”

“Listen up. Let’s stick to our lines. Tonight’s all Hallows Eve. Show time!

I invited you all to come, hoping we could create a story about inclusion, a place where we can be ourselves, be true to our beliefs. Let people know how we are just like them, but maybe just a little different.”

Matilda:

“When was that? I must have missed that stretch of time. Been hiding out most of my life. When I wasn’t hiding, I was trying to fit in, so I wouldn’t get burned or hanged. Neither of those really appealed much to me.”

“That was good, but now ladies, it’s time to get back to reality. I’m glad you are working on your lines.  Becoming someone else, being someone else, is fun, but that is not why we are here. Let’s settle down and tell our story. Perhaps some background for this next part. Camilla’s speech is to the village woman who is attempting to explain to her daughter why they are hiding as the mob assembles. OK Camilla!”

“Tradition keeps us reaching out to one another.  We come together to share a dark past, we inherited what looks to be a troubled future, and I can only hope we can begin to live, in times that have changed. The old images of women in black dresses, with big noses covered in warts, continues to be an attempt to exploit the mystery behind what they do not understand; choose not to understand.”

“I like the dialogue, but we need to expand, get to the heart of our tale. Please continue Camilla.”

“Unless you belong to a family, where the culture is accepting of elixirs and broom sticks, which are just more examples of powers we do not possess, and never have, you are susceptible to becoming a target of a group or person, suspicious of the truth.

Look, we could make a pie, sprinkle a little cinnamon on top, and they could be led to believe it was a cure for non-conformity. That is how suggestible people have become. The insinuations about us are due to the insecurities and lack of creativity found in the majority of people, not just today, but have been for the past hundred, if not thousands of years.

And why is that? Because they are afraid to try something, anything new; afraid to challenge the powers that be. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve heard people say, “Oh, I just couldn’t do that.” They have given up before they have begun. They have become victims of their own lack of initiative., their own search for truth.

We are all witches and warlocks to them. Most people however don’t realize that, because they ignore the virtues they possess, that make expanding their horizons possible. Most people have the ability to do all the things they attribute to us but are content to be what is expected of them. That Is the only difference, between them and us.

Take Matilda, my Aunt, for instance. She has a degree in micro-biology from Stanford. Lucile, my other Aunt, has a doctorate from MIT, in wet lands regeneration. I am a professor at Dublin University in Edenborough. I teach courses on the medicinal properties of woodland plants. We are considered witches, because we have found education to be the way of contributing to the continuation and survival of our planet, and its inhabitants. I know education frightens people, but…

“Yes, Maria?”

“Would it be alright if I got a picture of you all gathered together. If Matilda could continue to hold the black cat. It   adds to the mystique, don’t you think?”

“Maybe… just a picture of the cat.”

“Ok, sorry.”

“Several more of our ministry, are due to arrive soon. Bertha is coming from Spain. She works with infectious diseases. Alma is from New Orleans; she explores African American Lineage. She is primarily concerned with why disease is more debilitating to those who originated on the African Continent, than other areas of the world whose environments are similar. I might add, she has been labeled a Voodoo Princes by the illustrious group, Keepers of the Faith. Don’t ask her about that unless you have a couple of hours with nothing to do or are interested in the incantations of the Third Reich. Pick it up where…”  

“You see, we believe in education, and are devoted to the enlightenment of mankind. That makes us suspect. It has been so throughout history. It is the endorsement by those who honor education and the achievements it provides, that titillates the suspicions of those who choose to remain under the cloak of wanton ignorance.  Contentment, is their disease. They are distrustful of education because it opens doors to unfamiliar and unexplored areas of possibility. The unknown frightens them. 

For centuries, we have been excluded, shunned by those whose dubious assumptions about education, medicine, science in general, have infected the general populace. They mask their involvement by adding the mantle of witch, or any number of other names to any endeavor they choose not to comprehend, agree with, or fear. We continue to struggle against a flat earth infection; those who profess to encourage individuality, until it comes to accepting the individuality of someone they don’t agree with. We have become a species, that to be truthful is afraid of the truth, because it challenges unfounded assumptions.

The creation of the witch mystique, like the creation of superman, or the necessity of their Grim Reaper, is a way to project the darkness that has infected each of us through hate and suspicion and gives meaning to the unsubstantiated ideals that permeate societies that refuse to investigate the unknown and fall prey to it. 

We have found the irony of the Salem experiment to be a perfect example of what comes of suspicion and deliberate rejection of another’s views on religion and culture when it differs from their own. Instead of realizing the benefits that can be derived from the knowledge gained from generations of ingenuity, people would rather reject that knowledge or over power it, rather than incorporate what is functional, to enhance their own situation.

The Salem trials, were just one of the more recent examples of an attempt to eradicate, what they did not understand. Give it a label, misconstrue the cause, the purpose of what is proposed, and then degrade it by spreading innuendo and suspicion about its intent. The eradication of native populations, religion, social and political progress, all have been used to escalate fear to a primal level.”  

“Thank you, Camilla, that was interesting…If I might suggest…Oh, never mind…

We gather yearly to record our experiences and plan for the next onslaught brought on by selected ignorance, and the ensuing suspicion. We have chosen as a goal for this years assemblage, the development of a play based on our personal interactions depicting the harm that speculation by a person or group, can cause. We must encourage through our work, the acceptance of diversity, as it makes the whole better, because of the diversity of its parts.

If you are new to our gathering, you will notice that it takes some time for us to abandon our personas, speech, dress, etcetera, and be able to function amidst the prevailing exterior distrust and gather the necessary validation to combat, on at least one level, the detrimental effects of suspicion and its progression to hate and destruction. The worst I believe is the devaluation of humanity, whose future will depend upon communication and shared knowledge.

Matilda has the most difficult time shedding her role, as she is viewed as the embodiment of the displaced. Her language and dress are the last to be transformed by the spirits of others who travel in the universe of investigatory revelation. I attribute that to her mother, my great Aunt Genevieve, who did her apprenticeship during the dark days of World Wars in London, and the Great Depression in D.C. in the nineteen thirties. Lucile and Bertha on the other hand, have no problem abandoning their disguises. They rather enjoy being themselves, and not having to pretend they share the beliefs of those who would like to believe but won’t allow themselves to do so.

Me, I’ll keep hoping that conformity continues to be challenged, and diversity once again claims its place at the pinnacle of a new civilization that will be forced to evolve from the turmoil of a planet in rebellion, and a people that ignores its cries.

So, the next time you see an old woman pushing a grocery cart full of what appears to be, a lifetime of regret, or an elderly man on the corner with a sign asking for permission to exist, please, if nothing else, take the time to say hello, because there but for fortune… and give them a smile, it costs nothing. And you may come to find some day, that they have inherited the answer for our survival. And I will give you a clue, it ain’t apathy! Now let’s get to work.   

Maria! You don’t need to raise your hand.” 

“Pardon me Beatrice, but what’s the name of your cat… and, does it have any powers?”