The end of the beginning...

and the start of a new fight. We have accomplished what we set out for. We have set the wheels in motion. Thousand Kites will be performed around the country and hopefully we will put an end to the injustice in the prison system... or at least educate others.This has been an amazing experience and I will continue the fight for justice through the stories and words of those who have suffered, as well as my own. Thank you all so much.
Much Love,
Skyler Goff

It's Showtime!

Final dress rehearsal tonight, and I couldn't be more pleased. Despite the fact that Appalshop was here filming and often putting a camera in their faces, the actors stayed focused and professional. If audience response is any indication, this will be a very powerful show.

Send Wishes to the "Thousand Kites" Team

Wednesday will be the world premiere performance of "Thousand Kites." Tonight, a film crew from Appalshop will arrive to film the final dress rehearsal as well as the Opening performance. Alan Elsner, author of Gates of Injustice, also arrives Wednesday for a two-day stay. Everyone involved is working very hard. We had a small invited audience last night who participated in a lively discussion after the play and documentary.

Feel free to click on "Comments" to send wishes to everyone involved in the show. I will post your notes in the dressing room!

Voices

Scott read a letter to us today that was from one of the inmates we met at Avery Mitchell. The whole letter was amazing, but the part that really affected me was where he talked about the political systems--specifically that felons lose the right to vote, rendering them voiceless. I get to perform the theme song for the play, also called Thousand Kites, which begins with the lines, "A voice for the voiceless/ I represent the ones that yearn to be heard/ So every word is a testimony/ This one is for my homie." Linking those two together, I almost broke out in tears. The gentlemen that we met, and the other inmates that we saw but did not meet, are truly voiceless, unable to speak out and be counted; by doing this play, we do become their voices, raising the questions they can't, and finding the change in our system that will keep our prisons from becoming a permanent dumping ground for our people.

If our every word is a testimony, this one is for Tony.

Monday's Prison Visit

How to describe this place? To start with, "K-chakk, clack," the sound of a door being unlocked and then pushed open. Big, strong, electronic locks, always operated remotely by an unseen gatekeeper. One in the lobby where you check in, a short trip across a manicured lawn, another heavy click, another door, mail room, activity room, kitchen, click clack, a vestibule, click clack, a sweep of emerald grass and slow-fire mountains in fall colors, a trio of squat gray double-cubes in between. How many doors in between "us" and "them?" How many doors between prisoners and public? How many locks between you and your loved ones? Ka-chack, clack. One step further. Ka-chack, clack. Barracks. Ka-chack, clack. Classroom. Ka-chack, clack. Gray hallway, sickly fluorescent lights. Ka-chack, clack. Yard, canteen. At five cents an hour, a Snicker's bar might be a week's earnings. Ka-chack, clack. Five dollars, no big deal, you say? A hundred hours at prison pay. Ka-chack, clack. Y'all come back.

The Prison

Imagine with me if you can, a beautiful valley. The colors of fall blaze in a brilliant splendor. The cool air cuts across rolling hills of surprisingly green grass. A place where nature could be at it's fullest,were it not for the monoliths of gray cement that protrude from the earth like an industrial blemish. In the court yard, the cold gray steps dig into the hills, climbing up to the maw of a monster of hard stone.It's large mouth is braced open by tall pillars, allowing us to see the rows of orange teeth stretching into its gullet. It's eyes are many and slitted, instilling fear into the hearts of all who enter, holding dominion over all.This is a place where men hide beneath their beds, shrouded in their blankets with the hope that the light shining through the fibers will remind them of the night sky. This is a place where men are reverted to the age of four or five, where the adults tell them they "are very good", and that they are "doing so well." It sucks the happiness right out of you, this terrible monster in the mountains, like the Jabberwock resting in the forest. And if you are ever lucky enough to leave, be sure not to look back , as not to be blinded by the light that glistens from its sharp steel claws.

Skyler Goff

Sometimes a Miracle Happens

Sometimes during the rehearsal process, a show that seemed filled with fits and starts suddenly comes together all at once and lights up the auditorium like rays of sunlight bursting through an iron-gray sky. Tonight was one of those moments. Suddenly there was a buoyant sense of energy that lifted the emotions higher than they had been before. The cast became a unit, supporting each other in every moment, and those positive thoughts made its way through the audience and made them part of the unit.

I let the cast go home early tonight, because they had done the show the way it needed to be done. Leave well enough alone.

Saturday, we start technical rehearsals, and an entirely different element -- lights, costumes, sound -- will come on the scene. For a few days, all the new things will set the production back while the actors integrate it all again. But then all the elements will come together as we near opening night.

For now, I think I'll enjoy tonight's glimpse of what could be.