Recommendations of I Lived, In Rancho Tehama

  • Cheryl Bear: I Lived, In Rancho Tehama

    An incredibly powerful piece on gun violence in schools and the numbers that never make math the same. Fantastic work.

    An incredibly powerful piece on gun violence in schools and the numbers that never make math the same. Fantastic work.

  • Nelson Diaz-Marcano: I Lived, In Rancho Tehama

    A huge topic boiled down to a simple point thanks to the perspective coming from the shattered inoccence of a child. Donna uses basic math to spotlight the massive impact mass shootings are having in our society in a way only a powerful playwright could. This is poignant work.

    A huge topic boiled down to a simple point thanks to the perspective coming from the shattered inoccence of a child. Donna uses basic math to spotlight the massive impact mass shootings are having in our society in a way only a powerful playwright could. This is poignant work.

  • Ricardo Soltero-Brown: I Lived, In Rancho Tehama

    A play so boldly about numbers you might forget who is telling the story: a child only instantly too wise about the world. The stasis of the child may be the stasis of our country, the U.S.A. Donna Hoke makes moves here that I haven't ever quite come across. This is stunningly deft, poignant writing worthy of any evening or anthology concerning gun control.

    A play so boldly about numbers you might forget who is telling the story: a child only instantly too wise about the world. The stasis of the child may be the stasis of our country, the U.S.A. Donna Hoke makes moves here that I haven't ever quite come across. This is stunningly deft, poignant writing worthy of any evening or anthology concerning gun control.

  • Rachael Carnes: I Lived, In Rancho Tehama

    Empathetic, compelling and all-too timely, this short piece gets at the heart of the questions we're all asking ourselves right now. Hoke does an incredible job setting us up to peer into abject horror through the eyes of a small child. Without being ham-fisted or maudlin, she creates depth, warmth and resonance. This could be any kid anywhere, asking simple questions. This play underscores the writer's finely-tuned craft — serving at once as a beautiful eulogy and a call to action.

    Empathetic, compelling and all-too timely, this short piece gets at the heart of the questions we're all asking ourselves right now. Hoke does an incredible job setting us up to peer into abject horror through the eyes of a small child. Without being ham-fisted or maudlin, she creates depth, warmth and resonance. This could be any kid anywhere, asking simple questions. This play underscores the writer's finely-tuned craft — serving at once as a beautiful eulogy and a call to action.

  • Jordan Elizabeth Henry: I Lived, In Rancho Tehama

    This play gives us the simple addition and subtraction of gun violence, through the eyes of a six-year-old survivor of gun violence. This play is tragic, gut-wrenching, and so, so necessary. In these numbers and in this boy's voice, we see the impact of gun violence on both its individual victims and on the entire community.

    This play gives us the simple addition and subtraction of gun violence, through the eyes of a six-year-old survivor of gun violence. This play is tragic, gut-wrenching, and so, so necessary. In these numbers and in this boy's voice, we see the impact of gun violence on both its individual victims and on the entire community.

  • Matthew Weaver: I Lived, In Rancho Tehama

    A too-young (although is there an appropriate age?) school shooting victim simplifies things by telling us numbers. Hoke lets the charm of her character, in oh-so-simple MATH, slowly unwind the sheer horror, great and small. "There are one thousand four hundred eighty-five people who live in Rancho Tehama. That’s the biggest number I know of. " This is a short piece, but Hoke is as powerful and as thoughtful here as any of her work. Elegant, quiet, deceptively simple, and quite effective.

    A too-young (although is there an appropriate age?) school shooting victim simplifies things by telling us numbers. Hoke lets the charm of her character, in oh-so-simple MATH, slowly unwind the sheer horror, great and small. "There are one thousand four hundred eighty-five people who live in Rancho Tehama. That’s the biggest number I know of. " This is a short piece, but Hoke is as powerful and as thoughtful here as any of her work. Elegant, quiet, deceptively simple, and quite effective.