One Little Drop
BY CEREN TURAN (CS/IV)
Man is often praised for his ability to adapt to even the most challenging circumstances. He can endure horrible weather, overcome oppressors and learn to live with things he sooner or later realizes that he has no control over. Though this tendency of man is usually considered a positive trait, one can't help but wonder whether enduring the harsh realities of life is a sign of his strength or a lack of will to act in order to change them. I will not take it so far as to say that I do my best to solve every single problem I face or improve all the things I'm not satisfied with. However, it's safe to say that, unlike the way I was a few years ago, I'm now more prone to do rather than to talk, though it is usually my words I use as an introduction to my actions.
I'm not sure whether it's only a result of the change in my perception of the world and people, or whether others are changing with me. If it's the second, then we're changing toward two completely opposite poles. People are often not only content with their passive role but also willing to do anything to protect it. They convince themselves, saying that one person wouldn't make a difference; so they don't go to any of the gatherings intended to reflect the views of a group. Instead they talk endlessly about how their nation is in a state of uncontrollable decay. They say that mankind is polluting the world, but they never bother to use paper bags instead of plastic ones. I can hear them saying "Yes, it is their fault, but I will vote for them since they will win the election anyway." Though these examples can be increased in both number and content, I want to focus on another victim of the aforementioned perspective of life.
At this point, I have my suspicions that readers familiar with my pieces are waiting for me to swiftly move on to the arts from the rather general introduction. Though it may not be as smooth as they would expect, here comes the transition. A passive role strengthened by the force of adaptation is not simply a tool that helps people avoid getting involved in extra work in their lives, such as signing petitions, etc. It can be compared to a shell that causes the objects that hit it to bounce off, without the inmate being disturbed. He only hears a slight knock from the outside, and when the sound doesn't continue, goes back to minding his own business. So, he is a stranger to his environment, even in cases where he is forced to face himself directly.
This was what I felt like after seeing "The Respectful Prostitute," a Bilkent University production of a play written by Jean-Paul Sartre and translated into Turkish by Orhan Veli Kanık. It is a well-known fact that theater is one of the mightiest branches of the arts due to its power of holding a mirror to its audience. This gift bestowed upon it may be hidden in some productions, though it does its job even when it seems absent. But Sartre's play was almost like a slap in the face. The expected response to the play is hours of discussion on racism and prostitution; looking at them not as problems of society which it must be protected from by abolishing them, but as a fault of humanity for focusing on the differences between people rather than the similarities among them. The audience that gets out of its shell becomes the prostitute on the stage and cries for support in her search to do the right thing. When the African American man runs into the house and begs for his life, the audience wants to kneel with him and beg.
Unfortunately, those who go to the theater to watch are doomed to be satisfied with looking at things that they will never be able to have a full understanding of -- and from a long, long distance. So it's not a shock that people laugh at the prostitute on stage or agree with the white men when they say that they are the ones superior by birth.
My intention in writing this piece is not to change the way people think or look at the world. Though I'm up for taking the initiative and acting on what we believe is right, even I am not naive enough to think that one piece will change lives. But I suppose I'm not mistaken when I say that if your eyes are upon these words, your shell is either a very thin one or has been gone for a long time. If not -- whenever you see or hear something that reminds you of this piece, stop watching. Get in the scene and simply: be. As the mischievous little fairy in one of my favorite plays says, "If you pardon, we will mend. Give me your hands if we be friends." I sincerely hope you'll join me in my search.