Evolve Dancing Communities: VIETNAM
As a co-founding member and collaborating artist of Evolve Dance Inc., I have the incredible honor of working with Evolve Dance, Pacific Links, and Hagar International on this collaborative endeavor to develop dance programs for survivors of human trafficking in Vietnam.The following is an excerpt/adaptation of my report on my experiences during the 2013 pilot phase of our program:
I remember a particularly windy day at the Compassion House Shelter in Lao Cai. I was leading a dance session, and hot gusts of dusty air kept blowing the window shutters open. All of the sudden, without explanation, one of the girls stopped dancing and ran to her room. Within seconds, she emerged with a plastic bag and roll of string and she and the other girls ran outside. I followed them outside to see what was going on... they made a kite!! The wind blew the bag high into the air, and some of the girls took turns flying it with the string, leaping and twirling through the garden. I looked over to the left, and way down the stretch of road, I saw many other plastic bags flying in the air, accompanied by the sounds of wind and laughter. It was a moment of pure and simple joy.
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| Photo by Julie B. Johnson |
Introduction
Over the last three years, Evolve Dance Inc. (Evolve) and Pacific Links Foundation (PALS) have been developing a collaborative relationship, specifically with the goal of establishing a dance program for survivors of human trafficking in Vietnam.1 In August 2013, I traveled with Evolve Dance Executive Director, Karenne Koo, to Vietnam for the pilot phase of the program. The overall aim of this initial journey was to meet with local artists; mental health care, education, and social service professionals (all working around issues of human trafficking); and shelter staff and residents, to gather information and share ideas towards the development of an ongoing program. The heart of our pilot program was a week-long community-based participatory dance residency at the Compassion House shelter in Lao Cai. I recognize that “community-based” is a broad and ill-defined term, with many different meanings in different contexts. “Participatory dance” is equally ambiguous. In the context of this project, I use these terms to describe a mode of dance — in collaboration with a self-defined community — that facilitates a creative process, inclusive of all members of a given community, and driven by those participants. In this case, the participants I am referring to are the shelter residents of the Compassion House (as opposed to the shelter staff and us, the visiting artists, who could also be considered participants). As a dance artist focused on community interaction, I am interested in creative processes that facilitate participation for all members of a given community. Evolve’s website explains,
Recognizing the mutuality of collaboration, Evolve Dance artists work in close partnership with community organizations on programming that is relevant and specific to each community as we develop creative interchange programs for participants of all ages in communities, local, national and international. (Evolve Dance, 2013)
PALS leaders and staff sought artistic programming that would complement the vocational and academic training that the shelter residents were receiving. PALS President Diep Vuoung felt dance could be a creative outlet for self-expression and self-affirmation, which they deemed important to the process of reintegrating residents into society.
Project Overview
This program emerged from a meeting between Evolve’s Executive Director, Karenne Koo, and the President of PALS, Diep Vuong. PALS is a 501(c)3 charitable organization with bases in San Francisco, California, and throughout Vietnam. Their mission, according to their website, is to
support the sustainable development of Vietnamese communities and the enrichment of their cultural heritage. PALS leads counter-trafficking efforts at the frontiers of Vietnam by increasing access to education and awareness, providing shelter and reintegration services, and enabling new economic opportunities. Our human trafficking prevention program is implemented in community-based, school-based and factory-based settings. (Pacific Links).
Their activities include advocacy and educational programs around combating human trafficking, child development, and women’s empowerment. Additionally, they establish, maintain, and manage several shelters for human trafficking survivors throughout Vietnam. The Compassion House, the focus of our inaugural journey to Vietnam, is their newest shelter. Located in Lao Cai, on the border of Vietnam and China, the Compassion House provides residents with safe housing and services geared towards reintegrating them into society. According to Vuong, "The Lao Cai Compassion House has assisted more than 50 trafficking survivors, 95% of whom are young women from various ethnic minorities between the ages of 13 to 22. On a daily basis, the residents either attend traditional academic schooling or vocational training."
After two years of research and development, Evolve and PALS were ready to embark on Phase I of this burgeoning program, and Karenne Koo and I prepared to make our journey to Vietnam. Evolve’s expenses for Phase I were covered by a grant from the American Embassy Hanoi, an Indiegogo crowd-funding campaign, a Temple University Dean’s Grant (awarded to me as a doctoral student of Temple University's Dance Program), and numerous donations from supporters of Evolve. PALS made the arrangements for in-country travel and accommodations. They also provided interpreters and guides to escort us throughout our stay. Phase I took place from August 6 - 18, 2013 (including travel days). While we knew we needed to create some sort of structure for our trip, it was important to us that we not arrive in Vietnam with a predetermined curriculum that would narrow or limit our interactions and predetermine the outcome. We decided on the following itinerary:
Hanoi, Vietnam: August 7 - 10
- Meet with representatives from American Embassy Hanoi
- Meet with local artists and dance companies
- Meet with local social workers, psychologist, educators, shelter managers
Lao Cai: August 10 - 16
- Meet with PALS staff and shelter residents
- 7 days of dialoguing, workshops, and dance sessions
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| Karenne Koo and Julie B. Johnson with artists Dao Anh Khanh (center) and Doan Minh Hoan (far right) and American Embassy Hanoi representative (far left) Photo by Karenne Koo |
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| Hagar Workshop in Hanoi with mental health professionals, social workers, educators, and shelter staff. Photo by Cao Minh Nguyen |
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| Workshop in Hanoi with students and faculty of Vietnam Dance College Photo by Evolve Dance Inc. |
Karenne and I felt it imperative that we first meet with local artists. As outsiders entering a community, we recognized the importance of drawing from the expertise of community members. We wanted to begin to get an idea of what the artist community might be like and what conversations might be taking place, and to connect to the creative and cultural resources that exist in Vietnam. Along these same lines, our interactions with local professionals from various disciplines working around issues of domestic violence and human trafficking was extremely important. In a day-long interactive workshop with social workers, psychologists, educators, and shelter managers (all interested in incorporating creative movement into their respective practices), we shared various creative movement-based techniques and methods centered on the elements of dance (body, time, space, energy, and relationship) and exchanged ideas about how they might be useful for their work. This workshop, presented in collaboration with the Hagar Organization, was incredibly informative and helped ground our approach to working with the residents. Much like the exercises we shared with the workshop participants, we decided our curriculum for the residency shelter would be framed by the elements of dance as an entry point for interaction and exploration - a structure open and flexible enough to allow for a participant-driven program with no predetermined outcome. We were ready to take the 8-hour train ride north to Lao Cai to begin the residency at the Compassion House.
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| Border between Lao Cai, Vietnam and China. Photo by Julie B. Johnson |
| Garden in front of the Compassion House. Lao Cai, Vietnam Photo by Julie B. Johnson |
The Compassion House
The Compassion House is situated on a small patch of flat land with rocky, unfinished roads. The building is surrounded by gardens (tended to by the residents) and its perimeter is enclosed by a large metal gate. The shelter is newly built, and at the time of our residency, had not yet been furnished. The front entrance leads into a large open space with tiled floor, bright from natural daylight pouring through several tall windows. This is where we did all of our dancing. There were three large bedrooms that the residents shared, and one bedroom for the staff, off the side of the large front room. A small study room and a large kitchen book-ended the front room. In the kitchen, we shared lunch everyday with the residents and staff. Lunch was homemade by the 'house mother' who was assisted by the residents, and always included ingredients fresh from the garden. We sat on woven mats on the floor and ate family-style, sharing food from large dishes placed in the center of the mats. These lunches were cherished interactions, unexpected moments of bonding over laughs and food, as meals often are.
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| Karenne Koo and I, enjoying lunch with the shelter residents at the Compassion House. |
There was a core group of 22 residents participating in the program, with several others from a nearby government operated shelter often joining in. Some of the participants had lived at The Compassion House since its grand opening in 2010, a few had just arrived, having recently escaped or been rescued from their captors. At our first meeting with the residents, we did not dance. We sat on the floor of the front room together, shared introductions, and spoke a little bit about the purpose of our visit. The residents appeared reserved, yet curious. Most of them said very little, if anything at all, only offering neutral faces or slight smiles. A few took on the role of speaking on behalf of the group, contributing their ideas about dance, expressing their gratitude for the opportunity and their eagerness to begin. We had our first lunch together, and then returned to our hotel to reflect and plan our approach for the official first day of the program.
After consulting with the shelter staff, we decided to organize the days into two dance sessions, a morning and an afternoon session with lunch in between. This allowed for all of the residents to participate, as they each had different school and work schedules throughout the day. Each session was two hours long - one hour of a creative movement-based class and one hour of composition in which the participants collaborated in developing choreography. Karenne and I co-taught both sessions on the first day. On the following days we decided we would each lead one session with the other taking a supporting role; I led the morning sessions and Karenne led the afternoon. The morning group was the largest, with 16 participants. There were 8 participants in the afternoon. The groups, however, were constantly in flux due to shifting schedules, neighboring shelter residents joining in at different times, the occasional absence of participants, and the arrival of new residents. But the biggest factor in the shifting of groups was the fact that several of the participants enjoyed themselves so much that they often decided to participate in both groups so that they could dance more throughout the day. This unpredictable flow of attendance kept us on our toes, and it meant that the choreographic process would need to stay open enough to allow participants in and out. The creative movement sessions were based on the Elements of Dance. Each session consisted of a warm-up, loco-motor movement progressions across the floor, and exercises focusing on an exploration of one or more of the elements of dance.
Dancing at the Compassion House
[The following narrative and poetic descriptions were created through a blending of recall, reflective journal excerpts, and video analysis]
Body Scans and Making Shapes: Monday, August 12, 2013 (First day of dancing)
I am lying on the floor with about 18 other participants - residents and staff of the Compassion House in Lao Cai. We are awakening our toes, letting the energy of the wiggling digits move up through the balls of our feet to our heels and ankles. I hear Karenne’s voice gently guiding us through the body scan, followed by Ngan’s translation in Vietnamese. “And now as you move your feet, you’ll notice your ankles will want to move.” We are rolling, pointing, and flexing our feet, I feel my calf muscles contract and relax against the tiled floor. I stand up, disrupting my body scan to look around and get a better sense of how the participants are doing. Some of the residents are giggling, some are intently focused. All are participating but they move through what seem to be a limited range of motion. I sit back down and we rotate our rib cage, followed by our shoulders and arms. The turquoise-colored ceiling fans are circulating the damp, hot air. I am sitting crossed-leg. Some of the participants are sitting with their knees together, legs and feet tucked to one side of their body. Their eyes are focused on Karenne, with occasional glances at each other, as if to find assurance that they’re doing the movement correctly.
The body scan leads us to standing position. We are on our feet, and Karenne guides us through “whole-body movement to get us ready to dance.” We are following her demonstration: twisting torsos, swinging arms, stretching out opposite arms and legs into the space around our bodies. I notice that the participants are mostly moving their torsos and arms only; not quite whole-body movements just yet. Karenne moves us through a walking study. We walk big and small, tight and loose, fast and slow, low and high. We let our arms lead the way, and now our legs. I see participants mimicking Karenne, Ngan, and me - copying our walking movements through the space, but they are moving more body parts now. We walk together in a large circle. Karenne encourages us to find a unified tempo, prompting us to become much more aware of everyone in the group. We try to match each others’ pace. We get pretty close.
It was my turn to lead. After observing that the participants moved mostly from the top up, and that they often copied our demonstrated movements rather than relying on their own instincts, I decided to lead them in one of my favorite shape games. First, we discussed geometric and abstract shapes, and did a quick exploration of those in our bodies. They still mimicked, but we discussed how to make shapes with different parts of our bodies and I witnessed an increase in range of motion. Then, I handed out paper and pens, and instructed them to draw any shape that they wished. We scattered the shapes on the floor, all around the room. There were circles and squares, oblong shapes and spirals, and plenty of flowers and hearts. We moved around the room to music. The participants’ movements were limited to bouncy steps with shuffling feet, arms bent at the elbows and held firm at the sides. and when the music stopped, we found a shape on the floor and tried to make that shape with our bodies. When the music stopped, they each found a different shape on the floor and interpreted it with their whole bodies. I saw rounded backs and arms twisted around each other. I saw bent knees and tilted heads. I saw hiked hips, and outstretched legs with flexed feet. I saw participants making shapes on the floor, and some up on the tips of their toes. They tapped into their creativity and came up with shapes and designs that utilized their whole bodies.
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| Participants create a group sculpture. Photo by Julie B. Johnson |
Folk Dances: Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Umbrellas twirling, polka-dotted fabric spinning a dizzying display.
Right hips bouncing, alternating right-left foot steps in a square.
Locating the patterns from a (distant?) past, remembering the sequence.
Recalling a tradition, the umbrellas pump up and down over head.
A mountain dance in a new home.
It was our third meeting, and our second day of dancing together. Three of the residents decided to perform an umbrella dance, one of the traditional folk dances from their home towns. I am not sure when or where they learned these dances, or who taught it to them. I only know I perceived in them a sense of pride in showing this dance to us and to their fellow residents. I also felt incredibly honored that they desired to share this with us.
Flocking: Thursday, August 15, 2013
The participants were organized into groups of four. They formed diamond formations. Whichever way they faced (each person in the group faced the same way), there was always someone in front of the other three. This person would lead the others through movements, and the “pass” the leadership role to another person by changing the facing of the group so that a different person would be in front. Watching the four groups go through their flocking explorations was thrilling. Each participant had a chance to lead their group members, and each did so with what appeared to be enthusiasm and joy. I saw big smiles on their faces as they led and followed each other. I heard fits of giggles and laughter. The movements seemed much different to me than the first day. There was no hesitation. There was uninterrupted flow of energy throughout the whole body, no more disjointed movements between the top and lower halves of their bodies. I saw two-feet jumps and one-legged hops, splayed fingers and flapping arms, swaying backs and swiveling hips, deep knee bends, and circling heads. Each participant had the chance to lead their group several times, and each time they came up with something different, their imaginations eliciting new movement ideas and patterns. One participant in particular - the newest and youngest resident at the time - stood out to me the most. Her movements were not very big or energetic, but it was the first time I saw her really come up with her own movement, instead of mimicking someone else’s. She had a slight smile on her face the whole time. It was the first time I saw her smile at all. At some point, I’m not sure if it was this day, she asked Karenne if she could call her “Aunt.”
Sharing Dances: Friday, August 16, 2013 (Last day of dancing)
Each group collaborated every day on the creation of choreography inspired by the mural hanging on the wall of the front room. The mural, painted by the residents themselves, represented their utopian life. It included representations of their dream home, their dream jobs, and the pets they dreamed they would one day have, all set against their dream landscape: a rice field, surrounded by mountains, intersected by a meandering river. What made these dances most interesting to me, was that they were creating a structure in which everyone could participate, even if they hadn’t been there throughout the whole process. The groups were always shifting and changing, with residents coming in and out for various reasons. They were patient and tolerant with each other, and accepting of each others’ ideas as they built on and continuously re-worked their dance, to ensure that everyone could participate. The afternoon group dance ended with a group sculpture, in which they linked their bodies with scarves to represent a home. One resident, who appeared indifferent (if not skeptical) on the first day, was always front and center with her scarf in the creation of this “home.”
Participation
This work relies on a reciprocal relationship between all involved (artists, staff, and participants, alike). Karenne and I utilized the artistic methods and tools at our disposal, in conjunction with the services and expertise of the PALS staff, to ensure that every participant had a way to access the pilot program, regardless of their ability, previous experience with dance, language barrier, schedule conflicts, or comfort level. The residents reciprocated through their active engagement; they shared their ideas, questions, and creativity which drove the direction of the program. Before this reciprocation occurred, they first chose to participate (they were not required to do so). In that choice, deciding to participate, agency was enacted, and the collaborative relationship developed. In choosing to participate, the residents became collaborating parts towards the creation of a collective whole.
I perceive the residents’ choice to participate in this unknown program to be a significant decision, as a marginalized population whose choice and agency was taken away for a time. Their act of participation required an openness on their part that I found particularly inspiring. In the movement explorations and choreographic inquiries, the participants opened themselves to self-reflective modes of creation concurrent with the interchange of questions and ideas from the collective group.
Throughout the entire residency, participant interaction seemed to create a shared embodiment, whether following and leading in movement explorations such as the flocking exercise; contributing choreographic ideas; or sharing and teaching traditional folk dances. In sharing this embodied experience - in the transmission and appropriation of movements and ideas from body to body - a blending of self and other occurs in which individual identities converge to form a collective identity. In considering this, I am reminded of one of the program’s most significant occurences - the bonding between the participants. In an evaluation and assessment meeting with shelter staff on the final day of the program, they shared with us that though the residents all lived together in Compassion House, they were “separate;” they were withdrawn and did not interact that much with each other. After a week of dancing together, they began to behave like sisters or close friends. They sat close to each other, sang songs, laughed together, played games together. The shelter staff attributed this notable transformation to the dance program.
One of the biggest transformations for me, was in my own emotional openness and connection to the participants. I began the residency with an objectivist stance, attempting to distance myself emotionally in order to maintain what I thought would be a clear and professional perspective as a facilitator and collaborator. In other words, I worried that my empathy for the participants would compromise my judgement. This quickly changed the more I interacted with the residents, the more we moved and created together. On the last day of the program, we shared tearful goodbyes and countless hugs. The image of their hands reaching through the window of our taxi cab, searching for one last moment of physical contact, will be forever engrained in my memory. In reflecting and analyzing this program, I have gained an understanding of how vital the power to affect and be affected is to the processes of participation.
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