Freedom of Storytelling

The First Amendment to our Constitution grants us the freedom of speech, which we gladly practice daily. However, I cannot help wondering if our society allows for complete freedom. A safe space is not always readily available to us for the sharing of our stories or experiences.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about the importance of story telling and finding the time and place to be able to share our stories with others. Last week, I reviewed the show, Logic, Luck, and Love: A Valentines Day Special, put on by SpeakeasyDC. When I raved about it to a co-worker, he told me that he was a taking a class through the organization and his first showcase was coming up. So, on February 22, at Axum Lounge, I attended the SpeakeasyDC Student Showcase.

As each student walked to the microphone, they brought the audience to a different place and turn of events in their lives. While the stories ranged in subjects from, Chinese “massage therapists,” teenage pregnancy, growing up in the most segregated city in the nation, and immigration to the United States; they still all found commonalities in themes, of culture shock, parent-child relationships, childhood memories, and finding home.

As I listened to people’s stories, I had and most likely would never experience a similar situation to many, but taking the time to listen to them I was able to see the person behind the veil of society’s assumptions and with a good storytelling, empathize with them. Beyond that, I realized that though the events of the stories themselves were completely unique, the emotions behind them were similar. No, I had not grown up in the most segregated town in the United States, but I did know the feeling of receiving that love and pride from a mother. And no, I have never traveled to Africa or China, but I certainly know the feeling of culture shock, feeling lost and confused in a strange place.

We all come from very different places and survive through experiences that are distinct. Without a shared experience, a wall is put up between those of us who “get it” and those of us who don’t, and without the understanding, we can never gain any sort of comradery. To break that wall down, we need to be able to tell, listen, and share those stories from our lives. Once we begin to realize that beyond the surface, we have similar emotions and reactions to different events. At the end of the day, we are more alike than we are lead to believe, we simply need to allow for the opportunity to discover.

Note: SpeakeasyDC also offers open-mic nights where any one can tell their story every second Tuesday of the month at Town. Also, check out their new performance – review to come soon – of Mixed, Blended, Shaken, & Stirred: Stories about Today’s American Family, a part of Washington DC’s INTERSECTIONS festival.

Compost: The Alternative to Waste

As I am sure you probably already know by now, I hate to waste. Especially food. My biggest pet peeve is leaving two last bites on the plate. I cannot stand it—Just eat it the last bite, please! For me, it is a reminder that we live in a time and place that we have the luxury to leave the last of our food to waste.

I even consider that throwing out the scrapes from cooking to be wasting, such as coffee grounds and eggshells. Even though we do not eat these items, I know that they can be used in a better purpose. Composting was always a practice that I took for granted, growing up on a farm where compost was not only utilized, but necessary. When I moved to the city, I felt the shame kicking in every time I threw out the onion peel. If we recycle plastic and glass here, why does it seem so difficult to also recycle our food?

I live in the middle of Washington DC, in an apartment without a roof top, or a balcony, and therefore no place to put compost to use, let alone a place to store it while it is actually composting. So, like most people in the city, I cut my losses and threw away the food bits. I let it go by telling myself that there was nothing more I could do. But, oh how wrong I was!

One day, I received an email from my wonderful roommate informing me that we were going to compost, right in our apartment—without the mess, without the smell, without even the garden. It is all brought to us by Compost Cab, which started in 2010. It is an amazing initiative in Washington D.C. that allows we city dwellers to dispose of organic waste, guilt free.

Essentially, the only difference is that we have an extra bucket provided to you with a sealable lid to keep the smell down next to our recycle basket and trash bin. Then once a week, we put the bin outside, it is picked up and taken to an urban farm for use.

When I tell people with joy that we started composting at my home, people usually give me a look that says “Oh, you crazy hippy.” When I explain the system, some people seem genuinely interested, but others continue to roll their eyes and state something like, “I don’t want worms” or “I don’t have space for it.”

First of all, there are no worms in this stage of the system. Second, put the bin next to the trashcan, put it in a corner, or put it outside! The best thing about it is that anyone can do it. Everyone creates a fair amount of organic waste while prepping a meal or snack, and while I completely understand the lack of personal garden space in the city, it doesn’t mean that someone else can utilize those organics for good.

Check Compost Cab out online and see for yourself at http://compostcab.com/

Theatre Review: Logic, Luck, & Love Brings Camaraderie

I am one of those people that does not like Valentine’s Day. One of those people who dread the holiday and the inevitable questions it brings. However, this Valentine’s day I embraced the jaded and happily single girl that I am, sucked it up and went out to a show.

Logic, Luck, and Love: A Valentine’s Day Special was shown at Atlas Performing Arts Center by SpeakeasyDC on February 14. This show featured a stage, four folding chairs, four storytellers, and an audience that provided an amazing laugh track. The four storytellers seemingly came from the diverse background: a straight, divorced, now single woman who had not given up on herself or hope, a lesbian finding love in unsuspecting places, a gay man with the constant thought that there has to be something better out there for him, and a straight man jaded from his past of limited love. Local DC residents, Jennifer Moore, Molly Kelly, John Kevin Boggs, and Dustin Fisher, each have their own story to share, pulling in local DC mention, pop-culture references, and each individual tale blends together with a navigable flare. Moreover, the stories shared are not only told to the audience, but are felt by the audience.

The beauty and tragedy of listening to stories about love is that it is unexplainable and yet everyone understands it, and has probably lived it as well. While the audience listened to each tale, I’m sure, knowing the odds of seeing a show on H St., there were most likely an equal divide between straight men and women, gay men and women and probably a bunch of people somewhere in between.

It didn’t matter which storyteller happened to be sharing because we understood where they were coming from. Everyone has that less-than-perfect kiss, but we convince ourselves otherwise. Everyone awkwardly hits on the prettiest person in the bar and settles for the second… or third. Everyone has been ditched for someone else and made the wrong choice without knowing it until it was over. I know we have all created our own logic to disprove fate and explain why we always seemed to pull the short stick.

The very best thing about this Valentine’s Day show for me was the raw truth behind it. Each storyteller put him or herself up on that stage and shared their lives with an audience of strangers. They shared their funniest moments of their love lives. They shared the little antidotes and details. They shared their disappointments. The stories were not extraordinarily different or extreme in any way, but they were unique. The storytellers took ownership and let them out in an eloquent and relatable approach.

So what began as my excuse of not NOT celebrating Valentine’s Day night, actually turned into a noteworthy and memorable experience.

If SpeakeasyDC’s next show is anything like this one, I highly recommend attending.

Happy Brunching, Washington DC

“Brunch is kind of a big deal here, you will soon find out,” I told a good friend who recently moved to Washington DC. “Yeah, I am already starting to see that,” he answered.

Fortunately or unfortunately I have been engulfed in the brunch craze along with the rest of the city. From 11 am to 3 pm on weekends, restaurants fill with that post college/young professional crowd … oh what the hell, it’s a bunch of hipsters and yuppies. I can’t really tell you if it goes on outside the DC bubble, as I live 100 percent in it for the moment. I do know from my experience before moving to DC, we would get meals around that “brunch” time, but depending on what we ordered, we would either call it “breakfast” or “lunch.” The appeal seems to come from either the enjoyment of the indecisive meal, a reason to get out of bed and drag your hung over ass out the door into civilization, or if it is simply an excuse to start drinking earlier. I think it is somewhere in the middle.

I happen to love brunch and couldn’t be happier for this fad, if that is in fact what it is. I love the combination of food, and as someone who hates to make a decision it’s a great middle of the road meal. I love the excuse to get my day rolling with friends and not waiting until it’s dancing time. And, why yes, I don’t mind the excuse to drink a Bloody Mary or Mimosa before noon… I guess with that said, it makes me the perfect brunch candidate.

One of interesting things I find going out to brunch in this city is that it is not always the best food, but you are easily tricked with the pretty spread, the good deals, and the drink specials (not always the best drink either, but if they’re bottomless, I guess it’s worth it…) If you have read Anthony Bourdain’s book, Kitchen Confidential, he is quick to tell you that brunch is the bottom rack chefs using up left over food to please the masses. Well, whatever, that may be true, but there is nothing like even a mediocre Egg Benedict and a Bloody Mary or two to beat that Sunday morning slump, or “hair of the dog” as they say.

The second thing about brunch, which I have come to embrace, is what it does for the rest of your day. I either walk away too tipsy, just on the border so that I feel it would be appropriate to continue the drinking, or I’m just tired and want to nap for the remainder of the day. While both of these option make for an enjoyable day, I still have that nagging feeling that it has been taken over by brunch and wasted away.

This week, for example, I enjoyed Masa 14’s unlimited brunch. While the company was good, the drinks were decently flowing, and the food was bombarding. Of all the tapas dishes our table ordered and sampled (and I think it was the majority of the menu), the Latin American—Asian fusion menu only offered few very delicious dishes (the grits, flat breads, and chicken salad were a few of the highlights, for those locals who care to try it.) but the rest fell short. As it was, we had paid the fixed price and had the option to keep up the tasting, so we proceeded to consume a day’s worth of calories, leaving me with no choice but to fall asleep on the couch almost immediately after arriving home. It was a good day, but I have little to say for it when I talk to Mom on Monday… oops!

So if you too, enjoy a day of excused morning drinking, mostly likely interesting conversations, and eating sub-par food, check out some of the brunch places around the city. As I can only speak for DC, I will recommend the Washington Post‘s list of brunch deals, which I’m making my way through. And despite its shortfalls the experience is unique, if nothing else.

Happy Brunching!

The Case For Eating Meat

Vegetarian readers beware the following post may turn your tummy.

I am not a vegetarian. I tried it once, right after I discovered the kitchen counter covered in raw meat from an animal my father had recently slaughtered. I took one look at the mounds of red flesh and went running back the safety and cleanliness of my bedroom. I didn’t eat meat for six months. It was a trip to France that converted me back to carnivorous ways. Really, who can pass up pate and tartar in Paris?

I always find a vegetarian’s motives curious. There are countless reasons: Environmental, economic, moral, cultural, health, society, habit, to even the simple reason of “I don’t really like meat.” Strangely though, no one asks meat eaters why they choose not to be vegetarian. There are arguments for both sides of the issue and the same arguments to eliminate meat from your diet can be used to support keeping animal products as a part of it.

The typical arguments in favor of vegetarianism often begin with the moral issue of eating animals. They then expand to the treatment of animals, especially when it comes to the industrial farming practices and mass production of animals. This leads to the environmental issue: contamination and pollution caused by this mass production and farm upkeep. Most animals are fed grain in today’s farming industry; this is not energy efficient, as it takes not only the energy to produce the grain but also for the care of the animal. Beyond energy, it does not make economically sense as money is spent and lost along the way.

While these arguments hold true with much of the meat sold in supermarkets today, I choose not to group all meat in this industrial category. Eating meat, in my mind, is not inherently bad. Traditionally, I see it as a natural thing (cue for swelling music: Circle of Life). The idea that an animal, let’s take a cow, would eat the plants that we as humans cannot eat, converts that to energy we can consume, it leads the economical, environmental, energy, and logical sense. I certainly am aware it is difficult to eat meat of this quality, as it is extremely difficult to trace our food. So I am left less meat, rather than no meat.

Many people ask me if I am a vegetarian. Because I rarely eat meat and because I have the whole “food thing going on”, people assume it. I enjoy meat, and I respect the arguments of vegetarianism, and I agree with most of the arguments. I simply see them a different way. Rather that attribute it to the umbrella of “meat eating is bad,” I prefer to see it as the “modern meat industry is bad.”