Northeast of Immigration Battles
But when she moved here six years ago from Boston, she saw too much that was wrong with the real world to be content merely as a writer-producer-actress. Her relatively insulated hometown, known mainly for its blueblooded Brahmins — the Kennedys, the Cabots, the Lodges, the Cushings and the Adamses — lies far away from the immigration front, unless your kin emigrated in the 17th century. Ms. Tourse, a stranger to the universe of immigrants, legal and illegal, was horrified the first time that she came face-to-face with their wretched conditions in Los Angeles. This was not her notion of multiculturalism. Pinching together her thumb and her index finger on each hand, Ms. Tourse has stretched her resume and her career goals twice as wide as before. She now calls herself an “artist/activist.” A dedicated, clear-eyed laborer for civil rights, Ms. Tourse, by day, is a working consultant for CHIRLA, the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights of Los Angeles. She can be found in the modest but substantial low-buzzing offices of CHIRLA, just west of downtown.
Participation Is Obligatory
Ms. Tourse’s play about Sojourner Truth, the lightly known slave-turned-abolitionist, is no street-corner production. As with events where the activist Rebecca Rona’s Together organization is a co-sponsor, this will be an interactive evening, starting at 7 o’clock. Unlike what happens in many churches, you won’t be able to sit and shlump once you reach your seat. You will be obliged to participate, say the co-sponsors, who include Mustardseed Ministries International, Ms. Tourse’s CHIRLA and Together. Following the performance of Sojourner Truth in a play called “Aren’t I a Woman?” four-person breakout groups will be formed to talk about the unfolding that was just witnessed. Erbie Phillips Jr., the leader of the group dialogues, is a member of the Together Advisory Board. His bulging resume as a hands-on activist over the last decades would dwarf the accomplishments of many who consider themselves active. One of his favorite roles is educating black couples who take foster children into their homes.
Not Exactly This or That
One reason Ms. Tourse is an intriguing study is that she is difficult to pin down, a challenge to pin down about exactly who and what she is. When she swings around the corner from behind a door in the old CHIRLA building, a visitor is not certain what to expect. Her name — Anike (pronounced uh-nee-kay) Tourse (pronounced terse) — is entirely unrevelatory. Beyond being attractive, her appearance unlocked little else of the puzzle. She could pass for black. She could pass for white. She could pass for Latina. Since a gentleman seldom asks a lady her age, the gentleman deftly backed off and left the elusive number to the guessers in Newspaperland. She could be older or younger than she looks. She looks somewhere in between. At that point, precision took clarity by the hand, and they left the room together. “All of my work has a multicultural, multi-class bent to it,” Ms. Tourse says. ”An activist bent amd a historical bent as well.” To understand exactly what she means, you may have to take in her one-woman play on Sunday night at 7 at the Culver-Palms United Methodist Church, at 4464 Sepulveda Blvd. Or check out Friday’s Editor’s Essay.
