i'm not a celebrator of Thanksgiving, but i have a lot to be thankful for.
for the early part of this day, i pause to recognize the natives of this country who lost their lives and culture because of a sense of Manifest Destiny.
for the rest of the day, i give thanks, like most Black Folks i know, because the country we live in now gives us a day off to do just that.
so don't get it twisted: from where i was raised, we don't celebrate death and destruction. we celebrate life and family. so the country, once again, takes our lead on this day, if they want to turn this holiday (holy-day) into something larger than its origin.
that said, i have to speak about something i'm extremely grateful for--a place to call home: Amun Ra Theatre's new Playhouse, built out of vision, collective work and responsibility, and familial communal support.
over 10 years ago, i found myself dumbfounded after a performance of a shakespeare play at a world-renowned theater most actors i know would die to work at. i had just stepped off stage and i was staring at myself in the mirror. as it goes with regional theaters, the house had been packed, mostly with our octogenarian brothers and sisters of European descent, who thoroughly enjoyed the meaning, hidden references, and cultural allusions in the text of "the bard's" work i had just helped pass on to them. i'm sure they went home happy.
i was just dumbfounded.
i found myself staring at myself in my dressing room mirror. i recall hearing the jovial voices of the other actors outside the door. they slowly grew farther and farther away, until all i heard were my own thoughts. they were consistent and clear. "who shall tell our stories?" considering as i heard the voices that the faces i saw in my mind's eye were familiar to me either from personal experiences or from books and photos, the logical conclusion was that i was having an Ancestral experience. i saw Harriett Tubman being struck on the head with a lead block at age 5; my Granddaddy Happyjack stepping out of an old Ford Model-T to confront a southern Sheriff who had attempted to violate his rights; the elderly man who lay on a cold slab in my best friend's funeral home--silent, but pregnant with a story.
who would tell those stories?
that's where the idea for having a major regional theater for the telling of African-American stories was born, and i worked the next few years, frenetically at times, to keep up with the vision that had been laid before me.
the name came fairly soon. i had long been into Kemetic (Egyptian) Cosmology and Culture, and it made sense to base the theater on African principles, so why not the concept of revealing "The Hidden (Amun) Light (Ra)?" ART. A good added benefit...ART for Arts' sake, so to speak. like all good dreamers, i looked around at spaces i was working as an actor in from coast to coast and said, "Yeah, i want one of these one day." that led to years of research and relationship building; formation of the corporation and selection of various board members; promotional packets and PR junkets; Plays and productions. finally, it led me down Clifton Avenue one winter afternoon.
standing near the corner of 25th Avenue North and Clifton in North Nashville was a small, old building that used to be a Mosque back in the day. i found out that it had been sitting there empty for almost 5 years after calling the agent in charge of the property. there was no doubt this was the place for Amun Ra to begin the next level of the vision. it was close to town, small enough to be manageable, and bursting with potential.
we put a lease on the building in April and had a press announcement about the vision. people started getting excited about it, so we knew we had something going in the right direction. we re-vamped the board and brought on even more heavy-hitters, and we started working on pulling the business community into the project. we imagined we'd have to do it all from scratch, learning as we went. but there is always a ram in the bush.
enter: Michael Tucker.
i was driving by the building one day and found a brochure tucked into the door from a company called Sunago Builders. i'd not heard the name, but i was willing to explore all options of expertise. Leah Magee, who is on my board, arranged a meeting and she and i sat down at Sweatt's with the President of the company, Michael Tucker. Michael turned out to be a TSU Alumnus who had grown up just behind the building and wanted to help us with the vision. he knew his stuff and was excited. that was all we needed. we now had a construction manager.
after months of planning and drawing and dreaming, i got a call from a buddy of mine, Dwayne Jones, a construction genius who lives in Memphis who had helped me with an early drawing. he told me of an event hosted by USA Today's USA Weekend Magazine called "Make A Difference Day." after going back and forth, the insane idea of building the entire theater in ONE WEEKEND emerged. it was crazy, yes. it would require intense and specific planning, indeed. it would require marshaling every available resource, of course. but, it was possible.
you should've seen everyone's faces when i brought up the idea.
to everyone's credit, i never, ever saw doubt in their eyes. surprise, sure. excitement, uh huh. and seconds later--to the letter--they all said, "Let's Do it."
from there, a paradigm of involvement began to emerge. we'd tell people about the project, they'd be taken aback, then eventually they'd lean forward and say "How can we help you?" that was across the board. Nashville responded in some amazing ways. roofers and architects; designers and landscapers; builders and demolition experts; all stepped up to the plate and got on board.
Hands On Nashville, a volunteer coordination group joined the cause, as did Lipscomb University, Gray's Disposal, SKANSKA, R.D. Herbert & Sons, Centurion Stone, Nashville Machine Co., Hiller Plumbing--the list will be posted one day soon, only because we're still connecting with partners. needless to say, on October 24-26, 2008, we made history in Nashville by becoming the first African-American theater facility in over 100 YEARS.
we did it because people in this city stepped up for a cause greater than themselves. they picked up glass and rocks, scraped walls, pulled out light fixtures, loaded dumpsters--i was amazed at just how incredible a communal effort can be. people of all cultural, ethnic, and economic designations were a part of the initial effort.
we're almost home with this thing, and even "home" is a term that denotes a new horizon. once we're open, we've got to actually DO some things. but we've got plenty of things to do, and 2009 is going to be chock full of drama. great drama.
in the meantime, i wanted to share with the world my excitement and my gratefulness for being a part of something that is so much larger than myself. we're still taking pics, but i've posted a good number of construction photos online at:
www.theamunratheatre.org
check them out when you get the chance, and if you missed out on the physical labor, think about Amun Ra as you make your holiday giving. we're a 501 (c)(3) organization, so a donation IS tax-deductible. we're going to keep focused on the vision that began over a decade ago in the basement of the theater. it's funny, now i'll be able to sit and look in a mirror again, in another dressing room, only in a theater that will tell our stories; one that belongs to us.
i wonder what the next revelation will be...
