Brooke King, Veteran Poet reading at Veterans Event in Bbar at The Betsy – April 19, 2015.

After the debut performance of “Conscience Under Fire,” a spoken word theatrical performance drawn from the experience of four Iraq veterans, consensus ruled the room. This production is ready for New York. Maybe Off-Broadway. True, it was a small room – the Betsy Hotel’s B Bar, presented under the O, Miami umbrella– but the place was packed, with standing room only six deep in the back. “We are talking about what next,” said Katherine Garcia, visibly exhilarated by what she had just witnessed. Garcia is the executive director of the Miami-Dade College’s Miami Live Arts!, and with help from the Knight Foundation, sponsored development of the show.

“It exceeded our expectations. It was a very good first performance. It can only get better.” The four writer/performers did not have the appearance of amateurs. From the moment they marched in front of the crowd they commanded the room. Each wore a t-shirt that read “Post Traumatic Stress” on the front, with “stress” marked through and “growth” inserted in its place. Director Teo Castellanos, who workshopped the show intensively for weeks, divided it into three acts – before, during, and after military service. “You can’t tell me my mom’s not a goddess,” rapped Andrew Cuthbert, of the birth of his brother. “She makes people.” Another Veteran, Alan Minor, seethed with resentment toward an absent father.  All spoke of the harshness of their time of war.

“The funniest thing about war,” said Cuthbert, “it ain’t funny.” Hippolito Arriaga, twice deployed to Iraq, declared, “In order to be loyal to my country, I have betrayed myself.” Cuthbert spoke of the question he gets most from civilians – “Have you killed somebody? Like that’s supposed to be some achievement.” He ended the poem with, “Have I killed anyone? Yes, and you’re looking at him.” Two of the veterans did not fight, but their experiences were no less traumatic. Anthony Torres served as a mental health officer at the notorious Abu Graib prison, while Minor was assigned to Mortuary Affairs, handling bodies, body parts, autopsies, and personal effects of soldiers killed in action.

“We joke because we don’t have any seriousness left,” he said, mentioning times of five straight hours of autopsies. “I killed any chance I’d ever have of a peaceful night’s sleep.” The theatrical experience would not have been complete without the pounding musical contributions of deejay Brimstone127, or the addition of Brooke King, author of the chapbook “Love in the Shape of a War Zone.” She opened the evening with three poems from the point of view of a woman veteran. King served in Iraq in 2006, and although a mechanic, saw almost constant combat. “When you’re in the middle of a war zone, combat is all around you,” she said after the show. “It’s no different for the female soldier, but the treatment is different. The first time I went to the VA, they said, ‘How many times were you raped?’ I didn’t go back for six years.

Then they asked the right question, ‘What did you see?’ Apart from the skill of the acting and writing, the mounting emotional power of the show, “Conscience Under Fire” presents three startling fresh ideas about the returning veteran’s experience. One is confronting the image of PTSD. “People think it’s a disease you can’t get over,” said Cuthbert. “It’s a normal response to an abnormal situation.” Another is the therapeutic power of artistic expression. “Spoken word is accessible to all of us,” said Castellanos, a well-known Miami actor, director, and writer. “Reading and writing is a way to exorcise our demons and heal our communities.” The thing about PTSD, said Arriaga, “is you keep everything inside. Performing is like being naked, but working with Teo helped a lot.”

Perhaps the most striking new idea came from Castellanos, the concept of veterans returning from war are shamans or griot. After all, a shaman is someone who has been to a place most can’t go, from which he or she brings back healing wisdom. By telling their stories, instead of keeping them hidden, soldiers can heal, not only themselves and not only other warriors, but also the society that sent them to war in the first place. It’s a powerful idea, one that redeems the horrors of what soldiers inevitably witness. “I never looked at it that way,” Minor said. “But once Teo mentioned it I could see he’s right.” Castellanos steadfastly deflected attention from himself. “This is an incredibly brave group of veterans,” he said. Veterans performing as part of Conscience Under Fire – at The Betsy during O, Miami – April 19, 2015. Teo Castellanos, Director and Spoken word poet – on couch in BBar at The Betsy – April 19, 2015.