Spread Love, Awareness, and Understanding.
A Social Experiment: “Caged Roots: L.A.”
The project, Caged Roots: L.A. is a creative social experiment, a performative language function . The audience is delivered vocal and physical communication through gender, Hiphop dance, music/musical lyrics, and clothes identity. A project made to express myself, but also for audience to receive a statement on social values and norms. Analyze, think critically, and interpret, but more importantly enjoy this artistic performance. Thank you to my best female friends for understanding my vision, providing support, and direction.
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An ode to my roots, women of color, and multi faceted individuals who code switch the systematic routine. People use my culture and race as a trend, they forget that race is ascribed; it has meaning and struggle for those of us who pertain. Lifestyle trends, Lifestyle trendin’. Are our feelings and experiences truly cared for? What about the female experience in society’s patriarchy? Ideologies. Women, and Women of color are dehumanized for expressing them self, especially cultural roots. I work hard to get far, and that has meant I’ve needed to assimilate, or put a curtain on my cultural roots and I, to not tarnish or diminish my value as a Human being.
As a child, L.A. culture taught me to “be with it”~ sass,smooth, and wavy~ have tough skin. I have versatile interests, but this project is an ode for child me, especially 9 year old me, I dedicate this piece to my L.A. Days: bus rides to school, dance classes, and my momma’s job from Wilshire to Inglewood. Mother did all She could to sustain me. I’d get lost in the city sometimes, but I loved to explore. The city took care of me, dance took care of me, God takes care of me. Everything in my life adds to my identity. Some act like they know She, they don’t know me. Different styles of dance help me love old and new elements of myself .
An ode for my single immigrant Latina mother who works late, hard, and extensively in L.A. to provide the best for her daughter. She climbs the totem pole from dirt poverty. Now, She wears red lip stick and dresses sharp to claim her domain. She taught me to work hard and look fly by the way. She taught me. She taught She. Why do I have an urge to explain me?
An ode for my Black father too… leather baseball caps matched his cool leather jackets. The smell of fragrant inscents on his clothes. As a child, we cruised in his old wagon to our favorite ice cream shop on Slauson and Crenshaw after long bike rides around my Grandma’s neighborhood… He’d play old music, and we’d bicker because I wanted to introduce him to new music. He’d tell me endless stories, story teller. I’m a Story Teller. I appreciate him. I miss him. Rest in Paradise.
I love them.
I’m in a LA Daze. I love LA, LA taught me to be me again.
I dance hard for our pains. I dance hard for my pains, I pray and work hard for blessings to rain.
This is me freestylin’; movement that naturally exudes out of me. Roots.
& you [still] won’t know the half of it..
~ Amaris Jacobs/