One blustery Saturday night, the theater in Pontelandolfo was full. Men and women of all ages braved the cold to see a production developed by two amazing women, Michela Delli Veneri and Fiorella De Michele. Posters for Conto su di Me – Libere e Vivere had been zapping around social media and tacked up everywhere. I had no idea what to expect. The one thing I did know, was that Michela and Fiorella, both powerful women, would present something professional and relevant. Nestling into my seat, I looked around and noticed the hand made signs surrounding the space – My Body My Choice”, “Non Una di Meno”, “no è no” “Girl Power “.
Reading the signs triggered a response this 75 year old woman didn’t anticipate – sadness. Silently, tears dribbled down under my glasses. Didn’t we march for these same thoughts and rights when I was a girl? How many generations of women need to be treated like chattel? How long will society allow the minimization of women? Suddenly, I realized I was going to be in for a roller coaster ride of a production.
The multi media event was well developed and staged. This wasn’t a pound the idea on your head lecture but a thought provoking presentation that coupled actresses with real psychologists. The theme – Economic Abuse of Women. When I heard that, I thought equal pay for equal work or how to crack the glass ceiling. After seeing the performance I realized, economic abuse by one’s partner is horrific on both an emotional and physical level. Frankly, I was embarrassed that I had never realized holding back and controlling money was a form of abuse. I should have realized it. Having grown up in house full of tears, shouts and begging for love. Money, or the lack of it, was an embarrassing topic. My parents separated when I was about 11. Dad was caught “in the cookie jar” and mom was – well not very stable. Being the obnoxious child in our family, it was my job to go and “ask” my father for money. Mom, my sister and I were often just making do. My lack of patience and pushiness may be learned behavior. I learned how to be tenacious. One event that crushed me was my eight grade dance. After my asking dad for the money for a new dress and getting turned down, I was decimated when my younger sister came home from school crying and told me that a boy in her class whose mom was a ‘good pal’ of my dad’s just got an expensive train set from our father. I didn’t call it economic abuse – I was 14 – but after seeing this show, I realized that causing that kind of pain is indeed a form of abuse.
The staging was interesting. An actress would enter the set and tell their story. Then, the psychologists would either interact with the actress or talk about the case. The psychologists were wonderful performers in their own rights. I felt as though I was part of a group session and was throughly engaged. One scene that obviously tugged on my heart opened with a mom and son going to see a therapist. As the little boy was in his session, the mom shared her grief at not being allowed to use any money – money her husband earned – to pay for the boy to participate in a traditional dance company. Obviously the mom didn’t have money of her own. The arguments that the boy witnessed included screaming, pushing and threats. The husband would not give up a penny for this child to join the other children in the village and dance. Yes, they could afford it. He controlled the money – period. That seems like such a small thing but the impact on both the mom and the child was incredible. The dad was so controlling. The money was being withheld as a method of controlling and punishment. Damn, I had been there.
Always having worked and maintaining my own bank accounts, it took a while for me to understand the stories of women who were totally dependent upon their partners. Stranded at home without cars, driver’s licenses or any form of recreation that wasn’t blessed by the king of the house put women in dangerous positions. The psychologists brought the truth of this battering home for me.
Media, music, monologues and scenes seamlessly worked together to further the theme. I hope the young women I saw in the audience realized, they are in control of their destiny. I hope the young men in the audience learned that men who promulgate any kind of physical, emotional or economic violence against women are cretins. ( I wanted to use really bad words here about abusive men – FFFFFFbomb ASSSSSSh#$#^$.)
Grazie a Tutti!!!!
Ci vediamo,
Visti Pontelandolfo in 2025! We are now organizing Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo and a Writer’s Retreat. Message me for more information. We have very few spots!
Nonna's Mulberry Tree 