The Americans

originally posted at the DCA Theater's blog on 9/20/11



What does it mean to be an American?

The summer after my first year of college, I had a co-worker who had emigrated to the U.S. from Ghana. We often were stuck working the Saturday evening shift together, so we talked a lot to ease the boredom, and never was our conversation more heated than when we got onto the topic of the United States.  “Schoolchildren in Ghana learn about your political history and geography beginning at a very young age,” she pointed out to me. “But frankly, it doesn’t seem like you learn very much about anyone else besides yourselves.”  I admitted she had a point, and started studying maps of Africa as soon as I got home that night.

Since we’ve started rehearsing The Americans, I’ve begun taking out the atlas regularly again.

What does it mean to be an American?

When I studied at the University of Buenos Aires in Argentina, a question I received frequently from friends was “¿Extrañas a tu país? – Do you miss your country?” It took me awhile to get used to this wording; I’d never thought about the U.S. in such decidedly possessive terms before. I missed my family and friends, certainly, but the country – did I miss it? I wasn’t sure.  And was it mine? Of that I was even less sure.

In rehearsal for The Americans, this particular question has hit all of us in different ways. Some of us feel that the U.S. is our country, some don’t, and we all have a lot to say about it.

What does it mean to be an American?

One of the first questions that generally come up in conversation when I meet a fellow Spanish-speaker is “¿De dónde eres? – Where are you from?” My answer is always “Soy de aquí – I’m from here.” (This is also generally understood as “I’m white,” but that’s for another conversation.) Saying it over and over again adds to the conversation in my head – I’m from here, and I’m here right now, so this is doubly my country, and I’d better keep figuring out what that means.

Thankfully, working on The Americans, I’m spending a lot of time in the company of people who are working on figuring out the same thing.

What does it mean to be an American?

We’re still not sure, of course. This country is constantly changing, and so are we, so even if we do manage to pin down some answers, they’ll probably change tomorrow. But between our own voices and the voices of the people we’ve spoken to on the street, we’ve found all kinds of ideas relevant to the here-and-now that have surprised, challenged and inspired us.  Everyone’s got American identity on the brain this month, it seems, given the 10-year anniversary of 9/11. So we suspect you may have been thinking about some of these questions yourself…and we can’t wait to hear you voice your own ideas at the performance!

originally posted at the DCA Theater's blog on 9/13/11



On Saturday, we took advantage of the DCA Incubator’s prime downtown location to go out onto the street and do some flash interviews. Working in pairs, we set out to ask random people on the street two questions:

1.) Are you an American?

2.) If you could tell 100 people one thing about being an American, what would it be?

The ensemble tried to reach a broad spectrum of people - approaching people of different genders, ages, races, and clothing styles, but with a few exceptions, the answers were pretty consistent. Most people said that being an American meant “Freedom.”

Since then, we’ve been in a frenzy trying to list all of the different things Americans imagine ourselves free to do, and our list just keeps growing and growing. At the same time, we find ourselves debating “the fiction of our national identity.” Because for every freedom we believe we have, we can list example after example where that liberty has been denied or perverted. But perhaps what makes even this contradiction feel particularly American is that the denial of freedom (including due process) feels like a betrayal of what could be: the fundamental promises of the United States. I don’t know. The cynic (and historian) in me thinks that these promises have never really been fulfilled, certainly not for everyone. But the optimist in me still has hope for their potential.

Meanwhile, we’ve also started making a list of real and tangible things we love about the United States, beyond democratic ideals. Some of the things on our list? The World’s Largest Ball of Yarn. Milkshakes. Thai food and Mexican food and sushi on one block. Go Carts. Pop Tarts. Miniature Golf. Dolly Parton.

This isn’t an easy list for us - most of the ensemble have complicated relationships to being “American.” But it is a fun one. Got anything to add? What feels, to you, quintessentially “American?”

And remember, if you want to check out our process as we develop this piece, we have open rehearsals every Tuesday and Thursday from 7-9. Swing by!