The hour that followed was full of stories of building tables and shattering glass.
Playwright, translator, and scholar Anne García-Romero was called upon to introduce Karen Zacarías, who shared the origin story of the LTC. Anne recalled an email she received in April of 2012 from Karen and P. Carl. The letter was an invitation, to join with other Latine artists for two days in Washington, DC to have a discussion “al calzón quitado, to talk about the challenges and possibilities of being us in the [United States].”
When Karen entered the circle to share her story, she expanded on the origin and impetus of this first meeting. Arena invited her to be a playwright-in-residence along with four other playwrights, who, according to Karen, at the time had rather prolific and impressive credits. Upon receiving this residency, Karen’s first thought was “Shit.”
The opportunity brought with it a sense of isolation. She was the only Latine playwright. She was the only local playwright. And she was a mother. Her father, an activist, taught her that it does not matter if you are happy, but if you are doing the most good for the most people. Karen used the resources provided by this residency to form that first focus group of eight people that met for two days, where they spoke openly, and honestly, or, como dice Karen, al calzón quitado.
The result of that meeting was an invitation to build together. To explore the complexity of the Latine experience in the United States from a Latine perspective.
The LTC created a space that bore new organizations and movements that have shaped the landscape of American Theatre over the past ten years.
One by one, members from the early days of the LTC stepped to the microphone to tell their stories, each individual recalling the very moment they joined the Latinx Theatre Commons. It became evident that the LTC created a space that bore new organizations and movements that have shaped the landscape of American Theatre over the past ten years. I began to realize the true influence that the LTC has had on my work and development as an artist. The plays and playwrights who have influenced my writing were a part of and founded this community. The tables that I have been invited to were built by its members, tables that simply did not exist ten years ago.
The hour would not go by without some sort of collaboration and creation. Roxanne Shroeder-Arce, associate dean of UTeach fine arts at the University of Texas at Austin, led the group in exercises where we could all get to know one another. First, we were to find someone we did not know whose nametag stickers matched our own. We introduced ourselves and had a brief conversation. My partner and I misunderstood the assignment, so we paired according to the color of our shirt, not the stickers. We also forgot the color code of the stickers. Pairs joined other pairs, and larger groups were formed and introduced.
The next exercise was to create a circle around the room in alphabetical order. I found the only other person in the room whose name began with the letter “I,” and we had two minutes to share how we got our respective names. Next a new circle was formed, this time chronologically according to “when you entered the LTC.” I… could not remember. My first LTC event was the Comedy Carnaval in 2022, but I’d known about the LTC since 2016 and had been a part of the Facebook group. I placed myself in the 2022 group. Finally, we formed groups according to what region of the country we were from. The existential crisis continued to build: I started my career and continue to work in Philadelphia. I was born in New Jersey and still spend a lot of time there. I live and work in New York. Luckily, all these regions became one appropriately named “Amtrak.” I may be biased, but I believe this region had quite the original name.
Our own personal insecurities and questions are not what matters. What matters is that we gather to lift each other up.
We went back to our seats for some words from playwright, performer, professor, and Bostonian Melinda Lopez, regarding her memory of the first convening in Boston in 2013. What she remembered from that day was that she was late “como siempre” (a kindred spirit, I thought). When asked to join a group according to how long you’d been in the industry, she wasn’t sure where to go (a sentiment I’d felt during the “what region are you from” grouping a few moments before). She expressed awe at being in the room with great Latine theatremakers—artists like Irma Mayorga and Luis Alfaro and Josefina López. She reflected upon the insecurities, wondering if she belonged in the circle: “I’m scared I’m an imposter. I’m scared I’m not Latina enough to be in this room, but I’m not American enough to thrive outside of this room.”
I felt like she was robbing the thoughts right out of my head. Melinda landed on the fact that our own personal insecurities and questions are not what matters. What matters is that we gather to lift each other up.
She closed with a story about the altar that was constructed for the convening in 2013. It was full of photos and objects and a Milagro—a Sacred Heart—that Josefina Lopez placed on the altar. As they were taking the altar apart on the last day, Josefina handed it to Melinda and said she should have it. Melinda kept the object in her office for the past ten years and held it up to show everyone as she told the story of the first convening.
