Performing Precarity: Decolonial Performance Collaborations With Undocumented Communities Christopher Goodson A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy University of Washington 2017 Reading Committee: Scott Magelssen, Chair José Antonio Lucero Stefka Mihaylova Julie Shayne Program Authorized to Offer Degree: Drama ii © Copyright 2017 Christopher Goodson iii University of Washington Abstract Performing Precarity: Decolonial Performance Collaborations with Undocumented Communities Christopher Goodson Chair of the Supervisory Committee: Dr. Scott Magelssen School of Drama This dissertation draws upon my field work relating to contemporary performance practices in the United States that collaborate with undocumented Latina/o immigrants. Drawing on the latest scholarship regarding undocumentedness, I argue that this population, due to the economic and social realities it faces, constitutes an internal colony of the US. In this regard, I frame the various processes related to these performances as “decolonial epistemologies,” à la scholars of decolonial thought such as Walter Mignolo, Madina Tlostanova, and others. Drawing upon first- person interviews with participants and spectators, as well as my own presence at several live performances, I argue that these artistic efforts (which manifest in the diverse media of theater, experimental video, and public ceremony) are designed not only to counter the mainstream discourse that regularly criminalizes and dehumanizes undocumented immigrants, but also to provide meaningful, inter-subjective learning experiences for those involved. Closely examining the social and economic contexts (as well as the aesthetics) of these unrecognized practices, this study offers a unique lens which shows how performance both garners a greater visibility for undocumented immigrants, and also effects positive change to their state of precarity in the US. iv TABLE OF CONTENTS Introduction . 1 Media Representations of Undocumentedness in the 2016 Presidential Race . 4 Undocumented Immigrants as an Internal Colony of the United States . 9 Research Methods and Key Findings . 23 Review of Literature . 32 Breakdown of Chapters . 60 Chapter One: Undocumented, Super Doméstica, and Don Quixote: Homeless in Seattle . 70 The Decolonial Impulses of Performance Collaborations with Undocumented Communities . .. 70 Ends of the Theatrical Spectrum: Undocumented and Super Doméstica . 74 The “Alteristic” Impulse of eSe Teatro’s “Dialogues with Dignity” . 89 From Dialogues with Dignity to “Undocumentedface” . 120 Chapter Two: Decoloniality in Community-Based Theater: Teatro Jornalero Sin Fronteras’ El Niño Dios Viene pa’l Norte . 130 A Brief Historiography of Mexican Shepherds’ Plays . 134 A Decolonial Pastorela’s Opening Night . 142 Structural Challenges to Building Community Through Performance . 157 Decoloniality of Text and Performance . 171 Chapter Three: (Un)documentaries: The “Postmodern” Aesthetics of Pulpo/Octopus and Maria TV . 185 Undocumentaries as a Distinctive Genre . 186 Yoshua Okón’s Pulpo and Remunerated Memory . 208 Rodrigo Valenzuela’s Maria TV – The Effectiveness of a Fragmented Aesthetic and Decolonial Communitas . 223 v Chapter Four: Anti-Ritual and a “Passive” Performance of Citizenship: The Undocu-Graduation 2015 . 246 The Undocu-Graduation as Decolonial Ritual . 247 The Social Drama of US Legislation and the Unique Challenges facing Undocumented Youth . 254 The Goals, Results, and Reflections of the Undocu-Graduation . 269 Conclusion: An Uncertain Future . 292 Works Cited: . 301 Appendix One: Questions for Participants . 317 vi PREFACE First among the impulses to write about performance collaborations with undocumented communities was my reaction to a video entitled The Amazing Racist: Mexicans. The internet- based work, which I must have seen sometime around 2011, depicts a man (stand-up comedian Ari Shaffir) purposefully driving to a Home Depot-type store in Southern California to disingenuously contract with several day laborers in the store’s parking lot. The presumably “comedic” video shows Shaffir negotiating with the laborers while claiming to have a considerable amount of carpentry work for them in helping him build a deck. After six of the men climb into the back of Shaffir’s truck, he then proceeds to drive them directly to the Los Angeles County Immigration Office, from which the duped and panicked men flee on foot. Shaffir’s “candid” cameraman continues to film as Shaffir himself doubles over laughing. Meanwhile the men he has described as “illegal,” “animals,” and “beaners” scatter in multiple directions.1 The rather sadistic stunt was clearly designed to foment a notoriety for Shaffir’s over-the-top comedy, especially given the fact that his “Amazing Racist” character has appeared in other similarly exploitive videos. And while the work may be considered provocative comedy, it could also be argued that the prank is generally dehumanizing and cruelly punitive for his “coaxed” and unwitting (even powerless) performers. This empathetic sentiment, along with its constant opposite (that undocumented immigrants are sub-human criminals that need to be punished) pervade the online comments that have trailed Shaffir’s video on different websites over the years.2 But one thing that never seems to be discussed in the online forums is how, 1 See Ari Shaffir, “The Amazing Racist: Mexicans,” YouTube, April 19, 2011, accessed May 15, 2017. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=evZu9c1nJIw 2 See Latino Rebels, “#NoMames: The Ignorantly Shameful Mexican Immigration Prank Video,” Latino Rebels, April 25, 2013, accessed May 12, 2017. vii despite one’s attitude toward undocumented immigration, the video itself seems to capture quite profoundly both the racist anxieties toward undocumented immigrants (or those perceived as undocumented), and the fearful state of social and economic precarity that undocumented immigrants contend with daily. After all, whether one finds Shaffir’s admittedly “racist” prank funny or not, the comedian seems to have used “real” day laborers (and not paid performers), to make his somewhat indiscernible point. Thus, it was perhaps Shaffir’s recorded, staged, and disseminated encounter that first planted a seed in my mind that would later become a study of experimental performances that collaborate with undocumented communities. Although I reached out to Shaffir for an interview, as I considered his video a unique “collaboration” that would fit within this study’s parameters, he tersely claimed that the men in his video were not only not undocumented but in fact “were only actors playing a role.”3 And while I tend to disbelieve Shaffir’s claim, I have no way of knowing for sure, since he refused to participate in this study. Moreover, it is greater than “The Amazing Racist’s” refusal to be interviewed that leads me to disbelieve his assertion that the men were merely actors. Rather, it is my personal intimacy with the kind of men and labor sites he used in his controversial work. My professional association with undocumented laborers bears some scrutiny here. I moved to Los Angeles in 1999, and spent the next twelve years there, creating original theater and performance. Like most actors in L.A (or anywhere), I relied on a day job to make ends meet. Having learned from my dad the skills of carpentry, I quickly became aware of the quick moneymaking possibilities of building sets for independent films and theater. In late 2002, during a dry spell of set building, I decided to inquire after carpentry work at a residential remodel that was conveniently located across the street from my house. Needless to say, that’s an 3 Ari Shaffir, email message to the author, July 19, 2015. viii enticing commute for L.A. Minutes after inquiring, the job boss hired me on the spot. One of his first questions to me was: “Do you speak Spanish?” I fibbed (a little) and told him “Sure.” He replied, “Great, maybe you can talk to these guys for me,” referring to his group of Latino construction workers. As it turned out, that simple act of crossing the street would prove to be one of the most pivotal decisions of my life. Over the next decade, I worked alongside a great number of undocumented workers, primarily from Mexico and Guatemala: carpenters, masons, painters, plumbers, drywallers, roofers, landscapers and housekeepers. Ultimately, I found myself in a management position at another small construction company, where my employer profited by my ever-increasing Spanish skills. He relied on me not only to manage the jobsites, but also (through the social networks of our undocumented workers) to recruit new laborers as needed. This involved my own complicity in the dubious practice of enjoining the men to acquire “chueco” (Spanish: “fake,” literally “twisted”) social security cards, which, if ever finding himself in a tight spot with the state Labor Board, the contractor could claim he “thought” were “real.” I can’t say I was surprised by these practices, but over the years I came to a deeper understanding of the conditions of undocumentedness, a condition, which, in all honesty, I had never really thought that much about prior to my time in L.A. The friendships I built over this decade (2002-2012) still run deep, and it was surely due to my relationship with these men that I continued my education, beginning with Spanish language courses at the U.C.L.A. Extension program. We shared perhaps five hundred lunches together, swapping stories, cracking