9/11 – Mostly Dance

January 6th – the New Date for History Books

JoAnne Tucker / January 8, 2021January 8, 2021 / Costa Rica, Personal Life

While I was in the midst of writing a blog related to dance company touring, I had my iPad tuned to news programs mainly to hear about the results of the Georgia runoff elections for the Senate. I was feeling pretty excited hearing that Ossoff was pulling ahead in the GA race and Vice President Mike Pence had made an opening statement indicating that he would be following his appropriate role in receiving and registering the electoral votes. Then the mob breached the Capitol and my energy changed. I could no longer concentrate on writing the dance company blog. The rest of the day and into the late evening I was focused on the news, mainly listening to MSNBC. I found myself deeply sad and at times tearful.

My interests and background are in the arts and I am not usually a news junky. That was what my life partner/husband Murray did and he passed away just over two months ago. Perhaps because I knew I couldn’t turn to ask him for an update, I needed to watch for myself. I did that and now I am left with a strange and uncomfortable feeling of how to react and what to do. I paint, I write and I used to direct a dance company, and so when I find myself having strong emotional reactions I know that I am also looking for a way to express them. So here I am writing.

Among the many senators’ speeches, one of them used two phrases which I could relate to. 9/11 was a time when the action came from outside the country while today the action was from within the country. Outside and inside forces. And the inside force came from the strong encouragement of the President. Images of the people inside the building, especially one person sitting at a desk in the House Speaker’s office had almost a clown feeling to it. Almost someone doing mischief. Efforts were to be disruptive and that they were. It could have been a lot worse. What it did show was how fragile the country is, how poor security was at the Capitol and how democracy is something we cannot take for granted!!

It felt good to see the proceeding resume after the building was secure, and while there were four deaths it could have been many more. By the time I got up this morning, Biden and Harris were formally elected and there was a message from the President there would be an orderly transfer of power. Yet I still have this uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach, and while my unrest is not at the level I felt after 9/11, it is here. On 9/11, living in Jersey City, I saw the second tower collapse, with my own eyes, walking the few blocks from our house to the river. I was with a neighbor and I knew that all of my family was already safe. Yet that day changed me. It took a few months before the direction was clear to me, and how I ran my dance company and what I decided to choreograph evolved in a different direction. I have written about that before and so I will just summarize by saying that the Forgiveness Project happened shortly after that, and my focus on work shifted from emphasis on Jewish themes and performances in synagogues to work relevant for working with women in prison.

So I know I have a need to be patient with myself, not discount my feelings and give myself time to see what evolves. My circumstances are different as I now am far from DC where the action happened. I live alone in Costa Rica in a beautiful setting. Yet I am hearing a voice inside me saying that this threat to democracy in the United States is very real and not over and that it does affect me and those close to me. This fight of the white men to keep control is not over. Racism is a key part of it. And I can’t be silent about it!

In 2003, the teacher I had for life drawing at the Art Students League in New York City (I am embarrassed not to remember her name) talked about how important it is to use your art for political statements, particularly related to feminism. So maybe thinking about how to bring these feelings into my art will be important to me.

We have so many outstanding examples of visual artists, musicians, and performing artists responding to the politics and challenges of their time. I ask myself and I ask you how are we going to respond to what we saw yesterday and the reminder of how fragile our democracy is, and how racism, anti-Semitism and feminism fit into this picture! For a brief moment yesterday we got to celebrate two new senators, Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff elected from a Southern state. Ossoff is only 33 and Jewish. Reverend Warnock is African American. The fact that the Southern state of Georgia elected them and is giving the Senate back to the Democrats is a major tribute to Stacey Abrams who, along with other women of color, dedicated herself to changing the state. That gives me hope.

I am privileged to live in a beautiful home in Costa Rica. Part of the reason Murray and I moved here was because of our fear of how the election of 2016 pointed toward increased anti-Semitism, racism, and loss of democracy. Yesterday was a major test. Even though I don’t live in the United States right now I am still a citizen and care. So I am asking myself, “What can I do as an artist from right where I am????”

Today I decided I want to do original sketches of women I really admire for my
wall of Sheroes. This is a very rough sketch of a portrait that
I will be working on for the next several days.

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The 19th Anniversary of 9/11

JoAnne Tucker / September 16, 2020 / Personal Life

This year, as September 11^th approached, I found myself reflecting on the spiritual changes that were triggered by that day and how I relate to those changes now. Are they still valid for me now? Was it a detour? Have my beliefs strengthened or changed? This is not a normal year for me and I hunch it is not normal for anyone else. The pandemic has impacted all of our lives in some way. Murray’s declining health is also another factor and I am finding my daily life as a caretaker something very new and challenging. And of course we moved to Costa Rica the end of January this year. So this is a good time to assess if I am on the right track with a philosophy-spiritual path that can be helpful.

The 70’s saw me exploring Judaism through dance, looking to find how I might relate to prayers that up to that point had held little meaning for me. I found a sense of satisfaction by embodying the intent (or at least my personal intent) of the prayer through movement, at first in my own body and then later as a choreographer with the members of the company expressing my and their interpretation. The 80’s focused a lot on exploring the Torah through what we called dance midrash. A shift began toward the end of the 80’s and continued through the 90’s where the emphasis was in building bridges between communities, particularly the Black and Jewish community. Throughout all three decades I was looking for the feminist voice of the “divine.” And I was beginning to have my doubts about whether I could continue to relate to doing midrash to find the feminine voice in Judaism. So when 9/11 happened I was already questioning things a lot.

9/11 was itself especially traumatic because at that time we lived in Jersey City about three blocks from the river, directly across from the World Trade Center. In fact we usually took the PATH train into the WTC and then either transferred to a subway or walked. So WTC was very much part of our neighborhood. On 9/11 I was home when the first plane hit. Murray had gone into work early and was already through the WTC and at his job site. Our daughter Rachel called me in a panic, worried about her father, as she knew the route he usually took. I asked why and she told me to turn on the TV and briefly told me what happened. I told her Murray had left early but as soon as I heard from him I would let her know. Her voice was filled with panic, as she had been on one of the top floors when the WTC had been bombed back in 1993. She remembered the long walk down to the ground. Murray called in saying he was fine and I asked him to call Rachel and assure her he was OK, which he did.

Knowing Murray was OK, I walked down to the river and joined our next-door neighbor. The second building was still standing and sadly we could see specks falling from the top floors. They were actually people jumping. And then we saw the building collapse. Over the next days, smoke and a sharp strange smell were in the air. People were reaching out to each other in a way that they had not before. When we would see someone we knew even casually in our neighborhood, we would hug each other, glad to see we were OK. Everyone had their story to share about the day.

The Jewish High Holidays were around the corner and I will always remember the Rosh Hashanah Eve service where Rabbi Larry Raphael (of blessed memory) asked us to turn to someone we didn’t know and share where we had been on 9/11. The buzz in the room was tremendous. We wanted to talk to each other about our experiences. Then he guided us back to the service and it became flat for me. The prayers were not resonating.

Within a few weeks of 9/11 Thich Nhat Hahn came to town and a friend took me to a service he was leading at Riverside Church. It was packed and there was something about the event that was nurturing and I began meditating more regularly. I had been meditating before but hadn’t really gotten into doing any Buddhist reading nor did I know any of the philosophy. My exposure had been through Jewish adaptations. Within the next month Joseph Goldstein, Sharon Salzberg and Sylvia Boorstein all led events in Manhattan. I attended all three and my meditation practice deepened.

When we moved to Steamboat Springs there was a sangha there and on rare occasion I went. My next door neighbor was involved and we would often have meaningful discussions. In 2009 when we moved to Santa Fe I didn’t do much at all until 2011 when my mother was very ill and I wanted to find something meaningful. Jon Kabat-Zinn was speaking at the Upaya Zen Center and so I went to their Wednesday night Dharma talk and then signed up for a 4-day workshop Zen Brain: Consciousness and the Fundamental Nature of Mind. It was way over my head but I got a lot out of it. Meditation and Upaya became more a part of my life. I attended more workshops and for a while was attending the Wednesday night programs fairly regularly. When we moved to the south side of town and Upaya was a further trip I rarely went, but I did continue a meditation practice sometimes alone and sometimes with Murray.

So where am I at with my practice. The first several months here I did not meditate but lately I am returning to a more disciplined practice, finding it extremely helpful. It is clear this is the spiritual path for me. As I read more and participate in a Buddhist book group, I am finding so much that can help guide me at this time. I will always be proud of my Jewish heritage and love the years I spent studying and interpreting text and prayers through dance. The very basic premise of Buddhism, of discovering how suffering can be transformed into peace, is appropriate for me at this time. InThe Heart of the Buddha, Thich Nhat Hahn encourages us to “embrace your suffering and let it reveal to you the way to peace.”

Picture of Murray taken in Jersey City close to where we lived.
We think this picture was taken in the early 90’s

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Impact of 9/11 on My Role as Artistic Director of Avodah

JoAnne Tucker / August 23, 2019September 6, 2019 / Forgiveness Project, Personal Life

Having met the application deadline for the Nathan Cummings grant in the early part of the summer, I didn’t give a lot of thought to the Forgiveness Project specifically but found myself still wrestling with questions that had come up from the week of dancing with Ulla (see blog Exploring German and Jewish Relationships and Forgiveness). Since I had created several pieces on the Holocaust, and the dance company had been part of so many Holocaust memorial programs, I did not yet know how to integrate my new feelings both into my personal life and into my role as Artistic Director of Avodah. So I was wrestling with this when 9/11 happened.

At the time, I lived in Jersey City directly across from the World Trade Center. Each day we took the PATH train into Manhattan, usually via the World Trade Center, to then catch subways to where we were going in the City or sometimes to walk if we were going somewhere in lower Manhattan. While we didn’t live on the river we were only several blocks away from a full view of lower Manhattan. Murray, my husband, had left early that morning and was going to a meeting in midtown. Shortly after the first plane hit the tower I got a very anxious call from our daughter Rachel asking where Dad was. I mentioned he had gone into the city for a meeting. Rachel, who is usually quite calm and matter of fact, told me what had happened and told me to turn on the news. I said I would call and let her know as soon as I heard from Dad. Luckily he called just a few minutes later to say he was safe uptown far from the WTC. I told him to please call Rachel… she needed to hear his voice.

9/11 was particularly intense for Rachel as she had been in the WTC when it had been bombed in 1993. She had been pregnant at the time and had walked down from the 98^th floor. I spoke to Rachel again, too. She was not working in the City this time. Then I walked down to the river and watched as the second tower fell. I was glad that I was able to be standing with a neighbor. Soon I went home and just like everyone else watched television and waited to hear again from Murray who had gone to our daughter Julie’s apartment located in Manhattan. Eventually he made it home, that evening.

I think each of us tries to find some kind of comfort in whatever way we can and attempts to figure out how to make sense of such an event, particularly when it is so close to home. In our case, it was directly across the river, and where we got off the PATH train nearly every day. For many days we saw and smelled the smoke. I was quite surprised to get a call one week later from an optical shop just three blocks from where the WTC had been, saying that my glasses were ready to be picked up. And so I found myself taking the 33^rd St. PATH into Manhattan and then a subway down to the Fulton Street stop to pick up my glasses. What surprised me the most was how much, so close to the site, was functioning again – subways running, restaurants and businesses open.

Over the next several weeks I observed several things. People were much more open and friendly to each other and in fact people who were only acquaintances hugged each other when seeing they were OK. When I went to teaching jobs in the Jewish community I noticed increased security which was certainly appropriate but also a retreating or closing in that I didn’t quite understand. I was puzzled and trying to figure out things for myself when my good friend Regina suggested I join her and hear Thich Nhat Hanh at Riverside Church the evening of September 25. The evening was presented as a response and call for healing following September 11^th. It was my first exposure to him or to any Buddhist/Zen presentation. I found the chanting, ritual, and philosophy very healing. His talk was very powerful. You can read the talk online at https://www.thezensite.com/ZenTeachings/Essence_of_compassion.html

In rereading the talk as I am writing this blog I can see why it had a strong impact on me. The talk opened with:

My Dear friends, I would like to tell you how I practice when I get angry. During the war in Vietnam, there was a lot of injustice, and many thousands, including friends of mine, many disciples of mine, were killed. I got very angry. One time I learned that the city of Ben Tre, a city of three hundred thousand people, was bombarded by American aviation just because some guerillas came to the city and tried to shoot down American aircrafts. The guerillas did not succeed, and after that they went away. And the city was destroyed. And the military man who was responsible for that declared later that he had to destroy the city of Ben Tre to save it. I was very angry.

But at that time, I was already a practitioner, a solid practitioner. I did not say anything, I did not act, because I knew that acting or saying things while you are angry is not wise. It may create a lot of destruction. I went back to myself, recognizing my anger, embracing it, and looked deeply into the nature of my suffering.

Later in the speech he shared:

This summer, a group of Palestinians came to Plum Village and practiced together with a group of Israelis, a few dozen of them. We sponsored their coming and practicing together. In two weeks, they learned to sit together, walk mindfully together, enjoy silent meals together, and sit quietly in order to listen to each other. The practice taken up was very successful. At the end of the two weeks practice, they gave us a wonderful, wonderful report. One lady said, “Thay, this is the first time in my life that I see that peace in the Middle East is possible.”

He also shared a poem of his and I added it to The Forgiveness Project workshop materials.

Here’s the opening verse to the poem.

I hold my face in my two hands
I hold my face in my two hands
My hands
Hollowed to catch what might fall from within me
Deeper than crying
I am not crying.

About a month after 9/11, much to my surprise, I learned that we had received the grant we had applied for in the amount of $25,000 from the Nathan Cummings Foundation to create a dance piece on forgiveness and to take the piece, along with accompanying workshops on forgiveness, to week-long residencies in the four proposed sites.

Over the next several months quite a few prominent Buddhist leaders came to NYC offering free workshops or programs to community members who wanted to attend. I went often and began a meditation practice at home that I found (and still find) very helpful. I also found the idea of keeping one’s heart open and praying for the well being of all people, not just oneself or one’s own community, resonated strongly with me. Later in the winter I would find ways to incorporate these ideas into The Forgiveness Project.

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