If you label me, you negate me. —Soren Kierkegaard
Some books help us pass the time. Others entertain or inform us. And then there is the rare book that Inspires us—forces us to see with a different set of eyes and subsequently change our Newly Provoked Thoughts to Actions, enlivening our heart and engaging our Humanity.
This is such a book. And, for that reason, this will be more than just a review. There are excellent reviews about the poetics of this book available on both the back cover and out it in world. And although the book’s content is my basis for all that follows, what this is is an extension of the work begun in the book, as I believe Tabios and hastain would have it.
I should begin by saying that it a great honor for me, as Founding Editor of www.newmystics.com, to have poetry by both of these poet–philosopher–activists on our literary website. They push the boundaries; even more, they evaporate them—the boundaries of reader and writer, of author and social visionary, of Human and Spirit. This is the energy that makes New Mystics what it has grown to be over the past 10 years, and the energy that keeps the function of the Poet so vital to the world.
the relational elations of ORPHANED ALGEBRA carries through one of the main themes in Tabios’ work—the condition of being the Orphan. Sparked by her own experience as an adoptive parent, the socio-political and emotional challenges strike a sharp chord in her work and thus the book begins with “ORPHANED ALGEBRA,” a series of prose-poems that take as their basis Word Problems from a math textbook used by her adopted son.
Word Problems. Or, perhaps, the Problem with WORDS. This is resonant throughout the book. Ancient wisdom says that once you find the moon, you no longer need the finger that points to it. Put another way, once we have a firm grasp of the Idea, the Words no longer matter.
But we are all too poor at grasping the ideas that pool and swirl around us, so we categorize and label and organize, and in doing so, restrict what people can be or become. This is a main point of the civil/humans rights performance piece, “I Am Not Other” that my social justice theatre company, Seven Stories, has been performing the past five years. And this is a thru-thread in this book as well.
So. Word Problems. Through her deft and vivid prose-poems, Tabios tackles the underlying social ramifications of the seemingly innocent scenarios posed in the service of our children learning their math. Math that revolves around an antiquated Industrial model that has no place in the New Millenium, and yet still persists, for the American education system, as an extension of the Corporate–Military–Industrial complex, is more interested in producing Worker-Bees and Consumers than Citizens and Thinkers. No Child Left Behind (NCLB), which is one of the most oxymoronic, inaccurate, and reprehensible monikers ever put forth by any government anywhere (and which is, thankfully, beginning to go away), in its effort to clamp down on the critical thinking and arts-based curriculum beginning to take hold around the country prior to its “adoption,” put all the emphasis on the Standardized Test—the shortest way, in their Other-driven thinking—of making a Standardized American, who could then join the military or a corporation that would then created a Standardized World.
But there have been studies done since the implementation of NCLB that show a few unsettling things: (1) It dishonors Multiculturalism, and the pushback by teachers in creating an inclusive classroom is immense; (2) In the case of Word Problems, it makes it all the more difficult for those who use English as a second language, and those native Americans (wink, wink) who are being poorly educated and so are not proficient enough readers to get from Prosody/Fluency to Comprehension (the mind cannot do both at once) to first interpret, then actually answer the Word Problems correctly, so scores do not necessarily reflect Math aptitude, but a slew of other deficiencies in Communication.
I think that Tabios’ use of these Word Problems is about the best use of them that I’ve seen in quite some time.
The following section of the book is authored by j/j hastain, and is an extension/reply to Tabios’ “ORPHANED ALGEBRA.” Instead of the orphan as the starting point, however, hastain looks at the notions of body [in order to break down the rigid gender split //Male–Female// society now employs], modes of procreation, and, most importantly, Identity.
The rest of the book, called “Process,” is a balanced blend of poetry and essay wherein the authors discuss their reasons for, approaches to, and philosophies behind not only this collaboration, but their life’s work. There are sobering statistics on the orphanage self-preserving “system” in our supposedly civilized society [not unlike the military–industrial and pharmaco-medicine complexes that need War and Illness in order to survive—systems that also feed the orphan-making system]. There is also a substantial essay penned by hastain that outlines new ways of looking at Gender, Identity, and the Body.
The book closes as it begins—with the prevailing idea in Tabios’ work that “the poet only begins the poem” (p. 81).
As did hastain, I have endeavored to extend this book-poem through this essay and I invite you to read the book and extend the poem even further in your own unique way.

This thought-provoking book, subtitled, “Malek O’Shoara of Iran and the Immortal Song of Freedom,” tells the story of Iran’s great political activist and foremost poet of the twentieth century, Malek O’Shoara Bahar, through the eyes and experiences of his daughter. In a time when all the world is focused on the future of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s Iran and the Arab Spring continues to change the course of history in the Middle East, Bahar’s tribute to her father (which doubles as a personal memoir) recalls to the reader not only the circumstances that created the current situation in Iran; it also demonstrates the great power of poetry to help foment change in political activism.

Not unlike Pablo Neruda who said to the Chilean forces sent for him by Pinochet: “Look around—there’s only one thing of danger for you here—poetry” or Federico Garcia Lorca in Spain, Malek O’Shoara Bahar was not only a gifted poet, but a passionate activist and scholar who spent time in prison and exile for his beliefs about democracy and self-government. Parts of his poems, which are now used as songs for the Arab Spring, are strategically placed throughout the book, and although their translations into English render them somewhat less rich than they might be in their native language, one still feels the depth of belief, the commitment to social justice, and the artistic philosophy they contain.

From the time he was 18, when he sent his first poem to a ruler of Iran (which garnered him the title “Prince of Poets” and a small stipend from the shah) to the time of his death in 1951 from tuberculosis, Bahar was not afraid to speak out against tyranny and actively compose a vision for the Iran he wished to see. He was a co-founder of Iran’s Democratic Party and publisher of several subversive newspapers—all at a time (the early twentieth century) when Britain and Russia were exploiting Iran’s wealth and its rulers were selling the soul of their country to the highest bidders. Bahar’s experiences at this time, in and out of favor depending on the diplomatic breeze, can only be likened to a candle in the wind. His resolve—his constancy—during this time of “The Great Game” (as coined by Kipling) shows a courage most often attributed to men like Gandhi, King, and Mandela.

His periods in prison over the course of decades ultimately cost him his life due to the poor conditions ruining his health, and there were times where he was nearly killed outright. (In one instance the assassin killed the wrong man.) It is sometimes hard to understand how a father and husband could put his family in such peril—subjected to the authorities busting down the door in the middle of the night and dragging him off—but the great names come to mind again—Gandhi, King, Mandela—and it becomes clear their was nothing else he could do. It was his destiny, and a path his family willingly walked along with him.

The early chapters of the book recount, amid so much turmoil, a house and home-life idyllic in their simplicity and deification of such pillars as nature and family. Although they had very little money, the Bahars had an exquisite garden and one of the most extensive libraries in all of Iran (both of which were lost when the family was once again exiled). The author writes of a close-knit family where both father and mother were respected by their children and one another. Her descriptions of the foods they grew and ate speak to a life lived close to Nature and Spirit and based in a deep and abiding love.

That love, both long-lasting and not, is a central theme of the book, which recounts in detail not only the courtship of her parents, but Bahar’s two failed marriages. She says on page 56, “I always hoped that I would find a man who combined the qualities of my father and Mehrdad [her brother], but I never found one who came close.”

Indeed, it would be nearly impossible to compete with the deep well of passion and love Malek exhibited to all those he met. In one instance, like the Bishop of Hugo’s Les Miserables, he gives money [instead of candlesticks] to a thief who had stolen rugs and other valuables from their home just days before.

Within a few years of her father’s death, her second husband’s work with the IMF and World Bank brought the author to America, where, due to her husband’s position in Washington, Bahar navigated high-class social and political circles and met more than one president and/or first lady. It is at this point that the book shifts its focus to the domestic and social struggles the author faced as she sought an education and, ultimately, an escape from her controlling and philandering husband and her heartbreak at learning that America’s treatment of minorities—and women—was in many ways worse than the oppression she had witnessed in Iran. This last third of the book details her triumph in learning English, assimilating into American society while remaining true to her cultural roots, and her obtainment of both undergraduate and graduate degrees. Through it all, her father’s words and wisdom give her strength as she participates in the civil rights and women’s movements.

The Epilogue brings the journey full circle, as Bahar recalls the events of the 1979 Iranian revolution (well-known to Americans because of the simultaneous hostage crisis) and her subsequent trips to her home country.

For reasons she makes clear, she has not gone back since Ahmadinejad was elected president.

The book has a carefully selected section of black and white photographs that are helpful in getting to know even better this courageous and important family, both to the history of Iran and to social justice activism around the world.

The Poet’s Daughter helps to bring to light a man whose name should be uttered in America in the same breath with those three pillars of the human struggle for equality mentioned twice in this review.

So theatre is a near-perfect medium to address the increasingly prevalent and ever-more complex social struggle that is Cyberbullying.

It’s everywhere these days because, like Drama, Cyberbullying is all Tragedy. Stories of pre-teens, teens, and college students killing themselves because of relentless bullying are appearing everywhere, and educators, administrators, and legislators are all taking action.

And the element of the Relentless is what makes Cyberbullying so dangerous and so difficult a problem to “solve.”

It is safe to say that, on some level on a very long vertical continuum, we have all been bullied, either in school, at home, or in the workplace. As children, we were told it would pass and for most of us whose homes were a safe haven from such things as name-calling, threats, and ridicule, it did. We perhaps even learned and were strengthened by our experiences with bullies.

But Cyberbullying doesn’t end when a student goes home, or out of town, or anywhere else. It resides in the cell phone, the social networking of the Internet, and in the videos posted on places like YouTube. Bullies have unprecedented reach and a very broad audience that is all too willing to feed on what the bully is giving them.

In our workshops, which started for elementary school students in 2003 and have since been expanded for older students and adults in almost any social setting imaginable, we have seen the trends in Cyberbullying develop in real time. The stories have changed. Gotten harder to believe; harder to address. The scenarios we play out as a means to discussion and the search for understanding and solutions have gotten increasingly more Dramatic.

It is encouraging to see lawmakers taking steps to better protect those that are bullied. This is even more important than punishing the bullies, who represent the gap between our Technological and Moral advancement as a society.

Cell phones, digital recording devices, and the Internet are here to stay and will only grow more ubiquitous over time, reaching younger users and those in rural areas who are not yet weaving them into the fabric of their lives. No doubt bullies will find more hurtful and horrific ways to use these devices to get the power and sense of control they engage in this behavior for in the first place.

Those in the public eye should do more to set an example. Tweets and blogs trashing their competitors and colleagues fill the social networking sites, and they are often presented as humorous. Celebrities engaging in bullying behavior are rewarded with hundreds of thousands of faithful followers and millions of dollars. No need to name names—the list is far too long.

Social justice theatre can make a difference, fostering understanding and opening dialogue. We need to find new ways to turn these mediums of negative communication back around on themselves and work to re-capture their great potential.

In theatre we seek to “raise the stakes.” When it comes to Cyberbullying, and the lives of the young people it destroys, the stakes are higher than any of us could ever have imagined.

In 1998, when I was asked to write the scenes for a musical called “The Think it Thru Revue,” I knew that as a 29-year-old male I was not equipped with the depth of insight needed to write a truly realistic play about teen sex. The pressures of the kids I was working with were in many ways the same—peer pressure is peer pressure through the ages, for the most part—yet I knew that burgeoning technologies and more permissiveness and opportunity were also making the pressures greater than what I had experienced.

At the time, Arizona, where I was living and working, led the nation in teen pregnancy, so the stakes were high. The project was well funded and plenty of stakeholders were waiting to see what we were going to do.

The first thing I did—and this has become an essential part of our process—was to talk to the young actors who would be in the Company we were forming for the project. There was a sufficient level of trust to create an honest and open dialogue about the issues surrounding teen sex. From there, I created some scenarios based on what they were saying before holding a workshop where we had the kids play out the scenes. I recorded them that first time, a practice I have since abandoned.

I want things to be as real as possible without crossing any dangerous lines and even the best actor cannot be natural if they know the camera’s rolling.

I then did research—I had plenty of statistics at my disposal from funding agencies, sponsors, and other stakeholders. The Abstinence vs. Contraceptive debate was just beginning to rage and as I formulated the characters and plot of the play, I found myself right in the middle of it. We lost out on a $10,000 grant because my gut was telling me that to honor our Company members and those they would be performing for, we couldn’t take a solely Abstinence stance. Abstinence was the choice of one of the couples in the story, but the other two couples represented the personal costs of teen pregnancy and HIV/AIDS.

We won several regional and national awards with “Think it Thru Revue” and the play toured Arizona and had performances in several other states for two and a half years. When we started New Mystics Theatre Company in NJ in 2005, I rewrote the script to be a non-musical under the title “Thinkin’ it Over.” It has been touring ever since, with ongoing edits based on feedback from Company members, requests from hiring organizations, and the rapidly changing times.

The past five years working with my co-directors and the talented performers of New Mystics North and South have allowed me to continually refine our methods of creating new works using statistical and methods-based research, discussion sessions with Company members, and improvisation. Our play “7 Reasons to Say No,” about drug and alcohol addiction, was created in the rehearsal space during many hours of rigorous improvising of scenarios where the Company members’ training in realistic portrayal and use of “impediments” (such as being high or drunk) was pushed to the absolute limits.

Just last week I worked with 15 members of New Mystics North and Company Director Ralph Colombino on generating material and ideas for our forthcoming show on teen suicide, “No One Hears Unless You Scream.” The scenarios we worked through were based primarily on a discussion moderated by our staff with Company members last November. Tears were shed and skills again pushed to the limit. No one has to remind any of us how serious this is. Eight teen suicides in a single New Jersey county in the past two and half years is reminder enough. Every person in that room that day has been touched by suicide at least once in their lives, if not more.

As Resident Playwright, it is my name that appears after the title, as I apply two decades of study, theory, and practice into writing the most honest, structurally sound, and compelling plays of which I am capable, but none of my skill and dedication to the end product would succeed without the honesty, trust, and talent of our Company members.

Heartfelt responses from our target audience lets us know we are on the right track.

I’ve been thinking a lot the past year and a half about how to take the philosophy and talents of New Mystics and apply them better to the “New Economy” and the revitalization of cities that have lost their edge.

Tonya and I have been truly blessed to have made our home in Fairmont, WV, a once-great city that built itself from a frontier community centered around Prickett’s Fort to a coal power before slowly but surely sinking into disrepair and forgotten-ness in the later half of the twentieth century.

But things are changing in Fairmont—we had our first Create Marion meeting last Friday in the soon-to-be completed and opened New Mystics Center for Arts and Education. As 30 community leaders examined the pillars of the “New Economy”: “Quality of Place,” “Diversity,” “Talent and Education,” and “Technology” we became more convinced than ever that Fairmont, and Marion County, of which she is such a major part, is poised to combine the Frontier Spirit with the latest innovations of the 21st-century to become a force once again to be reckoned with. With a strong complement of social, economic, and educational entrepreneurs all working together for the betterment of our city and ourselves, we cannot fail.

New Mystics Arts plans to play a major role in the process. We are joining with ever more local and regional artists and arts organizations to create a critical mass of Synergy and Optimism in north central West Virginia that will link with our New Jersey theatre company to slowly but surely give us a mid-Atlantic presence that will celebrate the best of what the Arts and Artists can offer the world—a voice for all where social justice and diversity are not just catch phrases but a way of life.

Following in the footsteps of Augusto Boal, Bertold Brecht, The Living Theatre and others in the theatre that believe that we have a larger role to play as artists than Entertainment and Escape (although those are important functions as well) New Mystics Arts will continue to produce thought-provoking and dialogue-opening plays and workshops and train actors, teachers, and artists of all ages to use their Vision, Voice and Passion to revitalize their communities and their world.

The title of this blog comes in part from Peter Brook’s foundational book on modern theatre, The Empty Space. It was my mentor and longtime collaborator, Gerry Cullity, who first introduced me to Brook, a few years after I was out of college and we were working together at a storefront theatre named Actor’s Café in Bradley Beach, NJ.

I’ve read the book several times since then, and have given it as gifts to staff members and promising young actors and directors with whom I have had the pleasure of working.

My favorite quote from the book is: “In a sense the director is always an imposter, a guide at night who does not know the territory, and yet he has no choice—he must guide, learning the route as he goes.”

This sums up pretty well the last 20 years I have spent as a director/actor/playwright and especially the last 6 years as Artistic Director of New Mystics.

We have just begun to traverse the night territory as a Company and as individuals. We are branching out into ever more teaching and outreach elements in our work, and will soon be bringing to life our vision of exploring mythology and folklore (guided primarily by the lifelong work of Joseph Campbell) as it relates to the quality of our lives and pursuits as artists and guides in the twenty-first century.

Our latest project in playwriting is “No One Hears Unless You Scream,” an exploration of teen suicide. In the past two and a half years there have been 8 suicides (the latest exactly a week ago) in the county in NJ that New Mystics North calls home. It is our greatest challenge, honoring the dead and those considering suicide, and we would not be able to even attempt such a piece were it not for the level of talent of our artistic staff and Company members.

I am sure I will be blogging a good deal about the process of bringing this play to life over the coming three months.

Feedback and comments on this blog are always welcome. The lifeblood of any theatrical endeavor is Dialogue, and I hope it fills this Empty Space in the months and years to come.

Joey Madia
Artistic Director/Resident Playwright, New Mystics Arts