Story for performance #297
webcast from near Dungog at 05:34PM, 13 Apr 06

Welcome:

We are happy—well, not happy, exactly, nor pleased, but at any rate not dissatisfied—to have you with us. We know this can be a confusing and overwhelming time, and it is our hope that this letter can provide some clarity—perhaps even comfort—for you as you move through your new life as an initiate.

We want, first, to clarify the misapprehension that many of our new members have about our use of the word ‘club.’ The choice, we want to note, was not ours, but was thrust upon us by popular circumstance. How to describe a group of otherwise unaffiliated individuals united by experience, albeit unfortunate experience? And what of the fact that the affiliation is one that most would want to deny, rather than champion? Allow us to explain that your membership here is not an honorific but a commiseration, not an aspiration but a consolation. This particular club is not anywhere you’ve ever wanted to be, but, given where you’ve been, you could do worse.

You may also be wondering how we came to elect you as an initiate, whether there mustn’t be some greater set of qualifications that you’ve met. Don’t be silly. We are exclusive by nature and necessity, not by design. We do not pre-screen candidates for membership, as it would be impossible. The moment arrives and you are transformed, different from those around you, and that difference is what qualifies you to join us. We can’t predict, any more than you can, when or whether that moment might arise in one’s life. Perhaps it might help to think of it this way: it is less that we are seeking you out and pulling you in, and more that we are ready to step in behind you at a moment’s notice.

We are also often asked about the accommodations—the condition of the clubhouse, if you will. We do note with some distress that our membership tends to outpace our facilities, but with our rosters growing both irregularly and exponentially, it is a problem that we have yet to effectively solve. You may have noticed the building expansion projects that are ongoing in the west and south wings of the building: we hope these new facilities will suffice when they are completed late next year. That said, we would like to point out that what we do have to offer is fairly adequate. It is not so crowded that you’ve no room to breathe, to stretch your arms; nor are you so distant from others that you’ve no one to talk to—to cry to, if you prefer, though we don’t encourage it. It is not so dark here that your eyes can’t adjust to this new, dim light. It is not so dark that you are not still able to see, even with your eyes closed as they have been for so long. We hope you will be able to make do here, as we have, until such time as we might offer expanded services to our members.

Many new members want to know how they ought to spend their time here. As we are not, you understand, a recreational club so much as an experiential club, we leave such decisions up to you. In bringing you together with people of similar experiences, we hope that proximity will be its own best salve. You may find over time that you wish to do more: you do so with our blessings. You may find over time that you wish to do less: you do so with our blessings. Our purpose here is not to direct you or your energies, but to provide a psychic and physical space to contain you as you explore your new body, your new life. We know that things look the same but their molecular structure has changed slightly; we want you to be able to acquaint yourself with your new condition. That said, many in our community enjoy lawn bowling.

Finally, you may be wondering when you’ll be allowed to leave. You know as well as we do that this is an impossibility, and it is not even one of our making. You may go at any time, but you will always belong. This pains us as much as it must pain you: we, like you, would give anything to put things back as they were before, to forget that we ever knew what it was like to be here. It is a terrible thing. Your membership in the club is only a symptom of it.

Welcome, again. Welcome to this secret society of shared knowledge held by people who didn’t even want to know in the first place. Welcome to this hard understanding that you ought never have come to. Welcome to this place, where you are not alone.

Yours sincerely,

The Manager.

Adapted for performance by Barbara Campbell from a story by Jacqui Shine.