Where We Belong

In Mohegan culture, we have a symbol, the Trail of Life, that depicts the ups and downs of life and the people you meet along the way. This symbol is embedded in much of the design of Where We Belong, because what you are about to encounter is a journey along the trail, no more, no less. I hope that you embrace this story as a journey. That is what it is for me, as I learn different things about myself, my ancestors, and the world around me, each time it’s traversed. I don’t want listeners to worry about the history they may not know, or try to absorb all of the information, but rather to just let whatever resonates resonate, and hopefully to laugh a little. It’s not intended for you to remember everything. It would be too much, given how little most people are taught about Native nations.

My hope is rather that you will dig into the questions that come up for me, and how they may relate to your own life. You see, this was never meant to be a play. I wrote it in 2018 to try to figure out some things about the lines drawn between people, and to piece myself back together. Since then, it keeps evolving, as the world around us continues to move. This play is like the river. The sky. The earth. It holds the stories that came before but also those of this moment, which is ever changing.

If, after listening, you want to know more about some of the ancestors who come up along my journey, I will name some of them here—Uncas. Mahomet Weyonomon. Samson Occom. Fidelia Fielding. Gladys Tantaquidgeon.

And please remember: this is only one Mohegan story. Only my story. Achokayis’ story. And even beyond that—only a part of my story. A small and finite thing in the spectrum of our world. I am from a Native nation on the opposite side of the continent, with different experiences than the Native nations here. The performer you are watching is from another Native nation, with other complex experiences.

Here, in Ashland, we are in ancestral lands of the Shasta, Takelma, and Latgawa peoples. The Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde Community of Oregon and the Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians are the living descendants of these nations. These nations have their own struggles, history, language, and creativity that I hope you leave wanting to learn more about. Not to mention the many other Native peoples who live and build community here today.

Kutápatôtamawush to the incredible team of performers, artists, producers, crew, staff, and family that have made sharing this story with you possible. Something I could never have imagined as a kid. I hope coming along and sitting in my mind for a while might help you see the world a bit differently. And for every Indigenous person in the audience, know that your story is powerful and has as much right or more to be told on this stage.

—Madeline Sayet

“Nothing can be by itself alone, no one can be by himself or herself alone, everyone has to inter-be with everyone else. That is why, when you look outside, around you, you can see yourself.” —Thich Nhat Hanh

Achokayis might seem alone onstage. But the reality is that even in a one-person show, the act of theatre and storytelling can galvanize a community into the story so that we are not only witnessing but become active participants in the listening. In Where We Belong, Achokayis tells us the stories of her ancestors and the echoes of their journeys across the ocean, and through telling those, reveal her own as well. The audience in this story is of utmost importance. When Where We Belong premiered at Shakespeare’s Globe in London at the Origins Festival in 2019, the ears of the audience belonged to the writer’s mother, father, and many other characters written about: the professors from her PhD program, the academic at the British Museum, and just across the way at Southwark Cathedral, her ancestor Mahomet Weyonomon’s spirit, listening as well. They could hear and see themselves in her story quite literally. Since then, the story has been told across the United States, including New York City, Chicago, Seattle, Philadelphia, Hudson Valley, Baltimore, Portland, Colorado, and now finally arriving in Ashland, Oregon. In all of those places, and now here, the question still remains: Who will hear now, and what will they see in themselves?

Each time I’ve worked on Where We Belong in the past 5 years, I’ve heard something new. As I change, the story reaches some new place in me. The story has played a part of my own becoming. Inside my colonized Singaporean self born into a conservative Christian family, I am reminded how the places we were born from are the very places we need to question, to heal, to interrogate, and celebrate. And this time, as part of OSF’s season of love, I think about the how the play holds such complexity of love: the love of Shakespeare’s language even while it was used to violently assimilate, and how to hold those truths together.

So now. Here you are. The next ears to the story. When we listen we are needed; it is a fully engaged relationship. How will you become? How will you see yourself?

—Mei Ann Teo