On Monday morning November 1, I received a call from a fellow member of the board of SurvivorSpeakUSA. I was in a meeting and the message was merely to call back.
By noon I'd learned that my artistic partner, friend, and mentor dee Clarke, the founder of SurvivorSpeak, had passed away the previous evening.
I have been unable to speak since then. While all life is temporary and I believe death is merely a passage of the soul between different forms -- it is still a blow to the gut when a dear friend and fiercely burning bright star has flown too soon.
As well documented in today's obituary, dee was not only righteous and fierce: she was a person of great great heart. Softness as well as steel.
She moved me, she changed me, she made me feel I had a compatriot in this world. With dee, our belief that we CAN intersect our work as artists and activists meaningfully, with purpose, to continuously make this world better for those with the least among us was made real and tangible.
dee knew in her bones and blood that the lives of BIPOC girls and women are still predominantly invisible to the great chewing engine of white dominant culture. She entered this fray and did not get spit out -- rather, she made a difference to many. Yes, through her legacy of legislation and her amazing personal story and memory-play, THE LAST GIRL: and perhaps most importantly with great kindness and love and caring for the immediate, real, too-often-dismissed needs of individual women and others experiencing poverty, sexual abuse, violence, trafficking, homelessness and mental illness. She worked every day to put the last girls first, so we end the chain of creating forgotten women. We can all join the nonprofit she founded and led, Survivor Speak USA, in putting The Last Girl First.
“She was a person who very powerfully put her love of survivors, of black and brown folks, of poor people into action. She did that more graciously and warmly than anyone I have ever met,” [Cait] Vaughan, [chair of the board of SSUSA] said. “Part of what drew some folks to her was that she was authentically herself. No matter how much she achieved since she became a recovered person and advocate, she was always able to stay very grounded in who her people were and where she came from. She spoke to everyone directly from the heart.”
Exactly one week before she died, we travelled down to Portland to attend, with dee, a wonderful play at Mad Horse Theatre Company. She had accepted my invitation, aligned with our work together on THE LAST GIRL, and while it was challenging for her to get around, with the able support of one of her caretakers, Amanda, we attended. When we got her and her oxygen settled in the front row, I bent over to show her my jacket. It is an old purple suede thing from my days in NYC long ago. Her eyes widened as she touched it. "I wore it for you," I said, referring to the role a shoplifted purple suede holds at the beginning of dee's play. She chuckled. "I like it," she said. And then she looked me right in the eye. "You and I would have been trouble makers together."
Yes, dee, yes. Making good trouble in the best sense of John Lewis's term -- plus some regular old fun and mischief as well. I will keep making trouble in your name. In peace, love, and strength -- fly on, sister. Fly on.
No comments:
Post a Comment