An Introduction to Alternate ROOTS

Alternate ROOTS (Regional Organization of Theaters/Artists South) is a membership organization providing support for original art rooted in a particular community of place, tradition or spirit. This introduction to ROOTS was written for High Performance #64, Winter 1993, an entire issue of the magazine devoted to Alternate ROOTS. —Eds.

I remember the beginning of ROOTS only vaguely. It was in the summer of 1976 and I was an $80-a-week CETA employee at The Road Company, an alternative theater ensemble located in the unlikely town of Johnson City, Tennessee. I knew it was unlikely because it was only 20 miles away from the town I grew up in. Having absorbed some of the “you’re so good, when are you going to New York?” mentality that surrounded my early thespian career, I was somewhat shocked to find a theater like The Road Company in my own backyard.

Now, some years later, I consider it one of my life’s ambitions to make sure every young person makes that same discovery: that heightened sense of self-worth, sense of place, of community, of making a difference as a person, and as an artist.

Back to 1976 and the first gathering of what would become Alternate ROOTS: I must have traveled to Highlander (The Highlander Research and Education Center) in New Market, Tennessee, in the company van. The Road Company was one of maybe a dozen theater companies who accepted an invitation to see “how we can best share our collective skills and resources.” Since most of us were working in rural (and sometimes aesthetic) isolation, we were hungry to meet colleagues, to create our own support system. A Regional Organization Of Theatres South was what we needed.

I didn’t know anything then about Highlander’s history, so I didn’t know that it was a seedbed of social change, working from the grassroots. I like to think that Alternate ROOTS continues the tradition of Myles Horton, Rosa Parks and other activists, in the way that arts and culture have inspired and defined movements. One of the enduring images from the Civil Rights movement was the numerous gospel/blues/jazz renditions of “We Shall Overcome” or “We Shall Not Be Moved.” We ROOTers sometimes get teased about singing, but music has always been at the heart of ROOTS. We sang at Highlander, we been singing ever since.

An early anthem was “Hard Work,” penned by members of the PlayGroup, another founding ROOTS company, now defunct. The current anthems include “We Are Going (Heaven Knows Where We Are Going),” as taught by Elise Witt. Steve Kent brought us “There are Those (Who Want To Set Fire to the Earth).” “Home in Tennessee (Sail Away Ladies)” is a song Linda Parris-Bailey of Carpetbag Theatre taught us. Carpetbag was an incorporating member too in 1977, along with Roadside Theater of Whitesburg, KY, (which is still among us), and Pocket Theatre of Durham (which is not).

Although ROOTS is unabashedly regional in nature, from our very beginning people “from outside the region” were always present, engaged, learning and teaching. Marty Ardren, our first staff member, invited a number of international visitors, including Jacob Sou from Togo. (Marty also helped secure one of two three-year grants from The Ford Foundation which insured our early security.) Today almost 20% of current dues-paying members are from outside our primary service area of 12 southern states and Washington, DC.

To a very real degree, the history of ROOTS is the history of the Annual Meetings, where the “virtual community” (doing work in their own place, tradition or spirit) becomes the real community, at least for five days. The degree to which we are able to create this sense of community and have it widely shared, even among newcomers, is to me a measure of our success. It means we have to pay attention to things like how we eat, who cares for the children, who takes care of the fragile, the weary. How we care for each other.

Not everything is rosy. We have collectively trampled over the feelings of more than one person and at least one entire collective, and never really apologized. We have, however, tried to learn from our mistakes and generally don’t mind talking about them. As a result of numerous “incidents” (around racism, women drummers, spiritual practice, just as example), we realized that we needed to learn how to talk about our work in a more productive and respectful fashion, blending critical skills with a supportive intent. We’ve been struggling with that for nearly a decade; Liz Lerman’s article in this issue has given us the latest set of tools, which we’re still refining. We also realized that we needed to learn how to recognize, unlearn and oppose racism and other forms of oppression. We’ll be struggling with that one a lifetime, especially those of us who come from privileged white backgrounds.

Back to my version of ROOTS’ history: After a now-legendary “Sharing Conference” on New Year’s Eve 1977, hosted by Florida Studio Theatre (another founding member, back in its Jon Spelman days), ROOTS undertook a steady series of Performance Festivals: Nashville in 1978, St. Petersburg in 1980, Atlanta in ‘82, ‘84, ‘87 and ‘90. (Can you tell that we moved the ROOTS office from Tennessee to Atlanta in 1981?) For a long time, we held our Annual Meeting as part of the Festival, until we needed a less public environment to share work-in-progress and a less distracting place for the annual meeting of our Board of Directors.

And oh, what a Board of Directors! I love to tell people from the “mainstream” arts world that I have a board of 200 people. I hasten to explain that this Board annually elects an executive committee of nine that meets quarterly, functioning in many ways like a traditional board, but that we constantly struggle to preserve the intent of our structure as a participatory, grassroots democracy.

Our membership reminds me of that giant fungus found in Michigan—a large organic growth of improbable size and some mystery. I expect that our little office will get a deluge of calls as a result of this issue. “How can I join ROOTS,” they’ll ask. The bottom line is that you can’t—at least not immediately. You have to come to an Annual Meeting and join as a Provisional member—sort of a rookie year. When you come back to a second meeting, then you can seek full membership (if you live in the region, otherwise you become a non-voting “satellite”). Unlike most other organizations, you don’t just join by paying your dues. You must be present to win. Not only that, you must be present at an Annual Meeting at least once every three years to remain a member in good standing. ROOTS has never recruited members per se, instead slowly gathering the like-minded—or at least the similarly minded—through word of mouth. Jo Carson (an East Tennessee playwright who helped issue the call for the first ROOTS gathering) constantly reminds us that Who comes, is was an early credo of membership. The dynamic between generous inclusion and collective responsibility is tricky.

(But hey, for the record, you don’t have to be a member to support the organization: donations are fully tax-deductible and gleefully received.)

This membership structure evolved in the early ’80s as ROOTS began to blossom, under the leadership of Ruby Lerner. Ruby moved the migratory Alternate ROOTS office to Atlanta where it naturally attracted more urban artists. As we grew, we discovered that our language (especially that word “community”) was problematic, especially for urban dwellers. [For me, living in small towns most of my life, “community” meant those people who would call to see if I was okay if my car hadn’t moved in three days, or those people I had to face in the grocery store after I had done something particularly lame-brained.]

So a discussion about ROOTS often starts with a discussion of “what do you mean by ‘community’”? Our mission statement refers to work that is rooted in a particular community of place, tradition or spirit.” The whole conversation is intended to help people to think more specifically and critically about exactly who they’re making art for (or with). A frequent question at the Annual Meetings is “Who is the intended audience for your work?” The answer “everybody” is generally challenged.

The second sentence of our mission statement states that “ROOTS is committed to social and economic justice and the protection of the natural world and addresses these concerns through its programs and services.” This is the part of the mission statement through which we filter our program and policy decisions. And it’s a tough one. “Social and economic justice” is constantly thwarted by racism and classism (and all the other “isms”). One of our hardest lessons has been that the intention to do something about these evils is not enough. Translating good intentions beyond words into actions is Hard Work. Every now and then someone comes along and kicks us in the butt, accusing us of merely talking the talk. They’re usually right (thank you, John, Pearl, and others) and we try a little harder. And we keep trying.

I hope that Alternate ROOTS’ values are somehow reflected in the words and images of these pages, but it might be useful to (briefly) mention what we actually do as an organization: in other words, our programs. Of course, there’s the Annual Meeting and the Festivals (and the latest Festival incarnation: smaller, targeted showcases). There are the publications: a free quarterly newsletter, a Bulletin to members, and special publications such as the anthology of Southeastern plays that Heinemann just published. The dearly departed Artistic Assistance program was a pioneering effort to get seed money into the hands of artists at an early, critical moment of artistic development. [I loved the Artistic Assistance program—it had a short, no-nonsense application process, with quarterly reviews of proposals and immediate turn-around on money. Unfortunately this program was dependent on the Services to the Field category at the National Endowment for the Arts InterArts program, and was sacrificed as a result of the “recent unpleasantness” in Congress about the NEA.]

Another program we’re particularly proud of is our Touring program. Begun nine years ago with only two or three companies on its “roster,” the Touring program now offers touring fee subsidies for 14 member companies and solo performers. Specifically designed to serve “rural or emerging presenters, or those serving a culturally diverse audience,” the tour has channeled more than a quarter of a million NEA dollars to small presenters all across the South. We designed the program for maximum accessibility, with an open deadline, and the artists themselves help identify who should receive funding. This is one way we hope to foster a closer dialog between the artist and the presenter.

The Tour program was in many ways a model and inspiration for our latest initiative, the Community/Artists Partnership Project (CAPP). This project seeks to support artists developing healthier relationships in their communities, whether at home or on the road, in “partnership” with other organizations and individuals. The purpose of CAPP covers a lot of territory: articulating what “the work” is (which Nayo Watkins does so eloquently in her article), raising awareness about how to do it well, how to define and communicate our own criteria for success.

The Nathan Cummings Foundation took a major leap of faith and awarded us a two-year, $100,000 grant to get CAPP going. In the first phase we’ve initiated ten projects in Durham, NC, as a “Laboratory” for making discoveries about residency process, then planned a gathering of community-based cultural workers in Durham, January 26-30, 1994 (y’all come). Soon we will begin to support the partnership process in other southern communities (thanks to the Lila Wallace-Reader’s Digest Fund), publish a casebook/resource directory and organize other resources: a pool of experienced artists, presenters and community organizers who can provide technical assistance; training and teaching; more publishing. A word often used in connection with CAPP, and the community work that it supports, is “catalyst.” Sometimes the catalytic conversion is immediate (it can explode), more often the process is slow. ROOTS has had a great regard for process, but sister it can sure wear you down. Creating lasting change is slow, a long haul as Myles Horton would say. A marathon, not a sprint, we say to each other.

A final word: when Steve Durland and I first began to talk about our collaboration (this issue), my greatest fear was that the thousands of folks who have been doing “this work” for decades, or all their lives, would feel silenced and invisible because they are not specifically referenced in these pages. Even some of our most venerable ROOTS members (such as John O’Neal) are not directly represented, much less the many organizations and people who have inspired and taught us. We (ROOTS as an organization, or its members collectively) do not own this work, or lay any claim to being the best, the first, or the only.

Let me say now with deepest respect, this issue is dedicated to the generations of artists (whether they call themselves cultural workers, community organizers or choir directors) who have spent years using their art, their talents and skills in the service of whatever community they find themselves in. I hope that this issue will support and serve you in some way.

Kathie deNobriga is an organizational consultant and a founding member and former executive director of Alternate ROOTS. She has worked as an actress, visiting artist, company manager, director and administrator of community theater, arts council member and arts consultant. This story was first published in High Performance #64, Winter 1993.

Original CAN/API publication: October 2003