ADS:  I really don't think so, because first of all, I have a lot of confidence in my ethnicity, because I'm forty-two years old, and I've trained in it. That's a long time, you know—if I'm very lucky, this is half of my life. If I'm very lucky, it's half of my life I have been trained in this. And I don't think it's going to go away, so I'm not afraid of losing it. And after all, it's not like I have the power to change the world, or even change my life; I'm only talking about creating a piece of art that I hope will have some resonance, and trying to alleviate myself for a little span of time. It's just enough to see another person's point of view—believe me, it's such a battle because my ethnicity is so intense. It's always there. And it's claiming on very subtle levels, even when I intellectually want to be open. Inside you know all these little events in my life climbing the walls, peeking up, going "Hello, hello." 

AA:  In a larger political context, this sort of speaks to the age-old argument about separation versus integration. By separating, I mean, it goes back and forth historically whether we should separate or integrate, separate or integrate, and the argument for separation is that by engulfing yourself in your own ethnicity, it brings power. And only by doing that can you confront the battle that you have to wage against the majority. I'm wondering if that's the same in the theater as well. 

ADS:  I think you might be right. I'm sure you're right, to some extent. It's just that I'm not really talking about deluding myself. I recently wrote a speech where I used the image of fortresses with most of the culture being behind fortresses of ethnicity, and now of gender, and sexual preference.  And certainly fortresses of social class. And then what I talk about is a few—not a lot—but a few people who can put boats that go between the fortresses. It's just this idea of getting more information, and that kind of exploration isn't the same thing as spying or colonialism or anything like that. But it's just that there are the possibilities of these little vehicles that aren't so special, that don't need that specialness, that don't need to feel special to have an identity, in a way. And yet, not everybody will do it, but just some people. There again, the tragedy of Los Angeles was that there was no one person who could speak for everybody.  Very few politicians could even speak to the other side. They were scared to speak to the other side because they were afraid that their own people would . . . would sort of like what you're asking me—basically, you're saying, "Hey, Anna, aren't you scared that if you keep running around messin' with others' business, black folks won't have anything to do with you?" It's possible. And it would have been even more possible ten or twenty years ago. I'm not just so sure that I have as much to be worried about as I would have then, because I think that if there are more people who are seeing the need to move around a little bit now; after all, the fact is that those of us who are like-minded have a lot to gain by trying to strategize and work together.  Now I sound like the '60s, but I don't think we ever achieved that among people of color—we didn't achieve the rainbow. We didn't. 

KLF:  We're just paralyzed because we're in a nation founded on special interests, about special interest, and it's paralyzing to even speak for yourself when, as you know from your interview in American Theater, you are made to be the "spokesman" for "your people"—  

ADS:  That's too dangerous. 

KLF:  And in that particular setting, it was not a matter of being a "spokeswoman"—somehow that was already established—the question was, "How does it feel to be a celebrity?" At that point you cannot even speak for yourself! 

ADS:  Those kinds of questions are so dangerous. It shows you how images are created, you know what I mean? It's just. . .I'm not a spokesperson, I'm not that. It's not what I am. I remember seeing this Bill Moyers piece with Bernice Graydon, Bernice Johnson, I just saw a little teeny bit of it, not the whole thing, and I only saw footage of her during the civil rights movement, and she was talking about how they sang as a call for people to come and participate in the movement. And I was very inspired early in my career by reading a journal of the Free Southern Theater, who traveled with the people who had gone down to work in the South those summers for the registration, and that's all they were—it was like what theater was started as, just going to the town square and helping to attract attention. It's only recently that actors have become politicians and politicians are actors and all this weird stuff! No! The theater is a disenfranchisement; that's why in the time that I've gotten any critical attention, I've learned very quickly to be careful about appearing on shows that see me as something other than that. All I'm doing is trying to attract attention to the issue, and then the other people have to pick up the ball.