Bodies carry waters of memory; from them, languages emerge. My body was born in Manahatta, island of many hills, and I was raised in Scarsdale, New York. I come from German Jewish folks, Irish, Welsh, Piscataway, ancestors known and unknown. Upon them, myriad roles are placed. I was taught to be white, male, cis-gendered and conferred corresponding privileges and social advantages.
Bodies move, dream, gestate, labor, fight, pause, are injured and heal, are born and die. Bodies live in dynamic, rhythmic exchange with their environment. I love to dance in the park among the trees and open sky and dancing, transform. Bodies are specific, non-generalizable. What can be known from within them cannot be known by external observation. I was told that my body and mind were disordered and needed to be chemically corrected for my benefit and that of others. I did not want to be changed in that way and resisted. I haven’t stopped resisting and organizing for and with young people who are told who or how they are allowed to be for one or other label without their consent.
Bodies can be labeled, targeted, confined, exploited, killed. I carry the memory and silences of harm done by and to my ancestors. Some of my ancestors did great harm through enslavement and native genocide. Some had great harm to them through the holocaust and native genocide. They can conceal, guard, inspire, organize, listen, co-create. Through dance and other live arts, particularly those I have learned through engagement with African diaspora forms, I have practiced how to be, listen, and act at the same time, with the intention of responsibility toward all my relations. I still need practice. I am grateful for my family, my teachers, young and old, and the trees. Past and future are lights and shadows cast from bodies, which are always present. I hope to be of service to all of life, particularly the most vulnerable.
Alec Lichtenberg 