The 'Tyranny of Normality'

 (This fancy title was inspired by a song title of a ROCK BAND – Papa Roach. Yup so if you think ROCK is all and only about loud music & meaningless repetitive lyrics, think again!)

‘NORMAL’ was something I kind of despised when I was younger (& undiagnosed). I’d always remember this conversation I had with my student(s):

A student(s): Miss Lee, you are so… hmm… (uncertain) strange! 

Me: THANKS FOR SAYING THAT! I hate being just ‘normal’. (big grin)

Well I certainly enjoyed being different! It was not just my dress sense I suppose, think it was everything else I could manage then – even my fingernails & toe nails! I remember doing a lot of my own prettifying (read: Sally Hansen ‘Salon Effects’). See some of my DIYs below:

So in terms of my dressing, I was also into wearing neon colours, bold prints, asymmetrical designs featuring cut-outs and extra layers with “cool’ looking folds etc. Yes, I was vain. VERY VAIN.

Therefore, in conjunction with that, my attitude and behaviour in/outside of the classroom as a teacher must duly be LOUD & PROUD. Ha ha~

But now, I work SO VERY hard everyday to be ‘normal’.

I’d like to appear as normal as possible despite my ataxia. However, it’s not easy for me not to draw attention to myself with my wheelchair, incomprehensible speech, incontrollably loud choking (on top of my retarded eating) and occasional breathlessness.. oh there are other countless symptoms regarding this ataxia but I shall not elaborate on them yet. I might do so later…

The greatest plot twist, ever.

 “WHAM! Life throws you a curved ball”

For me, a curved ball here means a plot twist. Things were going relatively well in one direction and I was just feeling proud of myself that I’ve got it all figured out. I’ve been praying for God to use the gift He has bestowed upon me in theatre for His purposes because it has been rather impossible for me to find ways to reconcile the use of theatre in His kingdom. Other than teaching it and perhaps using it on stage to communicate a message I didn’t think it was that powerful or significant. I really wanted something I feel strongly about pursuing for His sake (that being said, I also know God can use anything for His glory, this was just my personal issues with theatre being used in the Christian context).

Anyway! It was during this moment of uncertainty that I came to find out about Playback Theatre. Being focused on the community its serving and in giving the audience the voice for its work, I really thought it was very different from what I’ve been learning and that it does have a place in God’s world. I can imagine it being used in evangelistic events where a community can be invited to tell their story and be ministered by the conductor and the performance. Perhaps it can also be used with believers to substitute their personal sharing – not just spoken but through the actors’ showing. Good Playback just have this inexplicable magic. I myself experienced its therapeutic effect as an audience member telling my story and also, there were many elements about this form of theatre that reminds me of Christianity. In my mind, I was really glad to be able to reconcile theatre with meaningful Christian work. 

So, I set out to find opportunities to learn more about this artform and was blessed with many enriching encounters – other than open rehearsals and performances by Tapestry Playback Theatre, I also managed to attend local and international training workshops and conferences, brought students overseas for Playback oriented projects and participated in a performance of my own. I really thought I could use Playback mightily to do His work.

Then, I got this. 

This ‘curved ball’ must be God’s way of saying

I really thought Playback was the answer. My answer at least, since many Playback doors opened for me and I was really enjoying every minute of my development in this intriguing but humble artform – especially the opportunity I received to travel to NYC to train under Jo Salas and Hannah Fox (wife and daughter of Playback Theatre’s founder, Jonathan Fox).

My NYC escapade 1 - Core Training in PB theatre

My NYC escapade 2 - Active Conducting (with JO SALAS)

Yes, this is me with the legendary JO SALAS :) 

My NYC escapade 3 - Advanced Skills in Playback Theatre (WITH HANNAH FOX)

My NYC escapade 4 - changed from Pay it Forward: PB for Youth class to this: 
Implicit & Explicit Oppression in PB Theatre

This plot twist was certainly a very bitter pill to swallow and I’m probably still swallowing it because I’m somehow still uncomfortable with letting the theatre community know about my condition. I haven’t been attending any theatre events/performances because I do not want to bump into any familiar people who haven’t seen me in a long time to see how handicapped I am now. Then I’d have to spend time and a great effort at explaining everything to people I don’t really care much for.

But! I’ve learned that it is actually better for people around me to know about my condition. Other than not being able to hide the symptoms anymore, it’s a quick and easy way to earn respect (for having to deal with this ailment). Haha. Ok. It’s just easier to cope when people around understand a little more about why I do (or don’t do) certain things or why certain things must be done in a certain way for me. So, please be patient with me as I take my time… I’m still gazing at this ‘curved ball’ I’ve managed to catch – probably with my teeth since my arms lack that coordination and dexterity…

L.O.T.S. - Left on the shelf

The end of my last post sort of reminded about this short story I wrote a while back... it was submitted for WOW! Women On Writing Summer 2017 Flash Fiction Contest. It didn't win anything, wasn't even in the finals. The judges scored it 12/15 (still an A1!!!)

Thought I'd just share it with my readers (if any) here:

Left on the shelf 

By Lee Min Er

She sat amongst a few other books that seemed to have been left on the shelf for a while and smiled awkwardly to the new company she might have to keep for a longer time than she had hoped. But who is she to judge the other books? She might have been kept separately from them on a higher floor in the reference section before this, unavailable for loan but it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean she was superior in terms of her status and it didn’t mean she was worth more attention from anyone. She was just kept away from everyone else by this one person. And of course she didn’t know anything about that until quite recently, just before she transferred to main section.

Nonetheless, she was curious and excited about exploring the world beyond the library and she was so ready to be loaned. Peering at the vast collection of books all around her, she wondered about her chances. It just seemed impossible for her to capture anyone’s attention with her unassuming and safe title, not to mention the sheer size and the hefty hardcover that she was burdened with. She had always been proud of being more than just a trashy paperback and tried to console herself that it would take someone really special to be able to appreciate the full volume of her being. Perhaps someone really special is just a myth. Perhaps anyone would do. Honestly, beggars can’t be choosers. And desperate times call for desperate measures. But what measures?

Lost in thought, she did not even notice herself being cradled in the sweaty palms of a short, bespectacled man who seemed intrigued by her leathery skin and the beautiful letterings emblazoned in gold on the spine. She waited patiently while his eyes coasted across her back for the synopsis and as he let out a distinct chuckle, she found herself being equally fascinated by this ordinary-looking man.

-------------------------------------

She hadn’t expected Timothy to keep extending and renewing his loan. It seemed like he couldn’t get enough of her and enjoyed her company very much. He brought her everywhere but she was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable being seen around with him. While she genuinely appreciated everything he has done so far, she thought she would get to see the world with a few others before saying goodbye to the library. Strangely, she suddenly missed the library very much. She wished other interested readers might get a chance with her. For example, she knew there was this boy who kept looking her up in the electronic catalogue. She wanted to avail herself for his browsing because he looks like he was genuinely interested in her and he did look very interesting. Honestly, anyone other than Timothy would seem more interesting and refreshing for now. She certainly felt uneasy for wanting to ditch Timothy for someone she wasn’t even sure of and she was at her wits’ end as to what to do.

-------------------------------------

His name is Alex. Why does it have to be Alex again? Obviously she doesn’t have all the answers. Especially the answer as to why she does not even think about other readers, like how it was with Timothy and why she doesn’t miss the library, which used to be home. He obviously enjoyed every minute spent with his new favorite book and he couldn't resist telling all his friends about it. At first, his friends were taken aback by his unusual choice and tried hard to understand his new fascination. In any case she was extremely glad to be found in Alex’s hands. So much so that his name didn't matter anymore. This Alex was different. This was the Alex for her, she thought gleefully. 

-------------------------------------

She couldn't understand what went wrong. With Alex, she was an open book. And she really tried to make him happy. While she allowed him to read her as much as possible, it wasn't the same with him.  He seemed to prefer keeping things to himself. Soon she no longer captured his fullest attention. He wanted to do other fun stuff and reading's not as fun. The warmth she felt when he first held her slowly diminished and gradually disappeared. It was incredibly painful. She felt all torn up, as if the pages have been ripped out, disregarded and thrown away. She didn't know this would happen. She hasn't expected this and she was truly helpless.

 "I don't know your face no more. Or the touch I adore.." 

The song that was playing on the radio summed it all up adequately - we might as well be strangers. 

"It's easier to be apart."

-------------------------------------