Raubinek Lili

Respect for the 23.000

Trafo passes are accepted

Accompanying program

Az előadást megelőzően Tompa Andrea színikritikus, író beszélget Dr. Gyurkó Szilvia gyermekjogi szakemberrel és aktivistával és Schell Gergely pszichológussal. A Különóra résztvevői az elhanyagolt gyerekekről, a traumáról és a gyermekvédelmi rendszer szürke zónáiról beszélgetnek.

Különóra

#hopelessness #destruction #23,000child

A performance about the 23,000 children and the people who work with them, who live far away from everything, out of sight of society. Who don't get the same as you or me. Those who were forgotten by the great family-friendly Hungary.

36 square meters puzzle tatami cover. Spectators surround this fighting/playing area and witness the fight. The five dancers work from Brazilian jiu jitsu, the initial raw contact dance and the hopelessness.

With this performance I want to pay tribute to the 23.000 children who are trying to survive every day in the Hungarian child protection system. Although I know it won't make it any better or easier for them.

Raubinek Lili lives and works in Hungary as a freelance choreographer and dancer, and also worked for two years in a residential children's home. Her performances are typically at the crossroads of dance and theatre. Her works usually respond to a social phenomenon.

Opening words of the performance:

I am Lili Raubinek, dancer, choreographer and the director of this piece. At the outbreak of the pandemic I started working in a temporary foster home in Budapest, where children – who are removed from their families or foster parents – are placed due to abuse and neglect. This is where they wait until a suitable place is found for them where they can live until they are 18 years old, in the best case. According to the law, they can spend thirty plus thirty days, or two months there, but in most cases they have to spend much longer than that - four, five or even nine months in the temporary home.

It is a beautiful little mansion in the woods at Zugliget, furnished as cosy as possible, and in the evenings the wild boars come into the huge garden. This is where brothers and sisters are usually brought, as they can be placed together. Still, it's the most absurd 200 square metres I've ever entered. One of the most overwhelming feelings in these two and a half years was the helplessness. It is pervasive and paralysing, first of all for the children. They are usually pulled out of their familiar environment overnight because of an emergency. These children have little choice. They have no choice about which room to stay in, who to stay with, what kind of bedding to wear, and sometimes they have to move from bed to bed as new children arrive. Once the new permanent home is finally found, they don't have much chance to get to know the new foster parent they will live with. But there have also been cases where a little girl has found out an hour before her transfer that she will be living in another part of the country. In such cases, her clothes are packed in suitcases or boxes in the best case, or in bin bags in the worst case.

Until that happens, they will just sit there helplessly. This state of mind often reaches the point where they can no longer cope with the tension inside them, and they may have no other alternative but to destroy. Torn curtains, gutted beds, ripped T-shirts and plants at least assure them that they really exist, if they have no other effect on their surroundings. This devastation could be mitigated by caring, attentive human interaction, but as a worker there, I found myself in the same state after a while. I was abandoned by the system. We had to work alone for up to twelve hours, among severely traumatised children, in crisis situations, because the state doesn't give us enough status to work in parallel and have at least two of us up at the home at the same time. After a while we didn't even have any supervision because there was no money for that. I also developed a feeling of helplessness and that brought on the aggression. I'm sure you've heard stories of children being caged or abused by foster parents or guardians. Once I saw this path in front of me, if I did't take action, in five, ten years, I could be that abusive carer. If there is no help and no empathy, whether around the child or the adult, the vicious cycle closes and we become monsters. With this performance, I want to express my respect for the 23,000 children who survive in this system every day and the caregivers and educators who work with them. Although I know that will not make it easier for them.