Princess Maitri Blacksheep* cordially invites you to a dance event on Saturday, June 24th at 6:30pm. Called One River Mississippi, seven radio stations along the Mississippi River from source to outlet will broadcast music for site-specific dance performances in an effort to unite the people of the river in environmental understanding and social harmony. The New Orleans portion of the program will take place at the Wharf at Riversphere by the Cruise Ship Terminal Building.

This event aims to create beauty and joy and to draw attention up and down the Mississippi River by engaging community members, dancers and environmentalists as performers, co-creators and audience members.

… Radio simulcasts will musically unite the performances as audiences realize their local dance is part of a larger whole; as indeed they and their communities are linked by the Mississippi River. Engineers will hook-up live audio and visual interactive connections that will support this theme of interconnectedness, allowing live audiences to participate in a seven-way call and response between people and communities, and to see what is happening at the other sites. As people begin to relate to the world around them with renewed eyes and hearts, a greater sense of empowerment and responsibility will bloom.

Alright, I admit this sounds a bit fluffy/hokey to some of you, but I think it’s cool and am attending because:

a) the concept is sponsored by St. Paul, Minnesota’s Hamline University Center for Global Environmental Education. Hamline (pronounced Ham-lyn) counts some of my closest friends as its graduates, one of whom didn’t leave New Orleans for Katrina,
b) dance is often a very expressive and effective method of sociopolitical communication,
c) it’s a thing of beauty to witness while the National Guard occupies our city,
d) something about the Mississippi gets me all Twain-esque and teary-eyed, and
e) culture for the people! The event is free and encourages those to attend who cannot normally afford dance performances.

* An explanation of my personal Native American title: An uber-redneck tourist once walked up to me on a local street and asked me where I’m from. “Are you Indian?” Not wanting to go into the specifics of the second-generation-South Asian-Kuwaiti-American-immigrant experience with an intoxicated stranger, I simply said, “Yes, I’m from India” hoping he’d go away. He continued, “What tribe are you? Like Ojibwaaah or Cher-kee or sumpin’?” Increasingly agitated at his persistent ignorance towards Indians and Native Americans, I placed index finger on forehead, said, “Dots, not feathers! Get it now?” and stormed off. Since then, when recalling that story, I have often referred to myself with the Princess Maitri Blacksheep sobriquet.

Related posts:

1. This Saturday Night…
2. like a log on the river
3. Mardi Gras Indians
4. The Great Third Floor Flood of 2006
5. The Delta vs. the delta