In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

• 8 to abolition to infinity (8 => abolition => ∞)
• Aaron Moore Ellis (bio)

How do I hold a systemic analysis and approach when each system I am critical of is peopled, in part, by the same flawed and complex individuals that I love?

This question always leads me to self-reflection. If I can see the ways I am perpetuating systemic oppressions, if I can see where I learned the behavior and how hard it is to unlearn it, I start to have more humility as I see the messiness of the communities I am a part of, the world I live in.

—adrienne maree brown¹

(a) identiteas(er)

Situating oneself at the forefront of an academic offering can sometimes serve to simply check a box; a basic requirement for "good, balanced" scholarship. Perhaps at its best, situating oneself evinces humility and reflective acknowledgment of identities and lived experiences, which critically inform the scholar's goals, methods, subjects, and sensitivities in their work. So who am I? aaron moore ellis. I take the lead from trailblazers who refuse capitalization. Who am I to do so? A wyte, nonbinary, ashkenazi jewish, irish, AMAB, m@sc-presenting person born into relative privilege, a sett!er on stolen land. … Who am I *not* to do so? What's at stake? What's at promise? And as to spelling: why write "wyte" instead of spelling out the color? Some may be familiar with the practice of intentionally respelling words associated with pain, trauma, and oppression, so that the experiences of those impacted by those words' referent is acknowledged and their reading experience softened. For those with privilege enough not to feel the resonant impact of these words, I invite you to consider my respelling as a reminder that privilege comes with built-in blinders to others' experiences, others for whom words matter in specific ways and whose lived experiences are deeply impacted by violence and oppression; that those people with those experiences matter; and that we—all of us—can seek ways to make life more breathable, more livable, more joyful. Who am I *not* to respell these words? What's at stake in respelling, or not?

These are recurring questions—questions that don't stop me in my tracks or silence me, but rather stay on the move with me. I keep these questions with me as an [End Page E-19] invitation to others to see consonance—or dissonance—between how they witness me identify, what they hear me proclaim, and what they see me embody. That is to say, these questions invite myself into accountability—to my decisions, actions, identities, privileges, responsibilities, and abilities to respond to those most impacted by structural and interpersonal oppression, close by and across the world.

As I write and edit this reflection between unceded Timucua, Anais, Seminole, and Miccosukee lands, and Lenapehoking, I am reminded that confessional scholarship and accountability may begin at the written word, but must follow and grow into action and intention, relational community connection, reflection and revision. It is no small task, and I am by no means holding myself as exemplary—I am simply acknowledging who and where I am and inviting accountability from within and without in pursuit of alternatives to the everyday into which I was born and into which I was acculturated.

I am a latecomer to the world of theatre. I came to theatre as an activist-organizer and theory-head, seeking tools for existential and sociopolitical transformation. I found the infinite possibilities of the stage compelling. I imagined the theatre to be a site for experimenting and for co-creating transformative practices. Then, I met the theatre world.

Until I saw the call for abolitionist scholars and practitioners to convene a session at the Association for Theatre in Higher Education (ATHE) conference in 2021, I had not heard of an abolitionist theatre collective or organization in an academic institution.² Leading up to the ATHE 2021 session, and since then, we have engaged with one another. We now publish a Zine as a starting point and a provocation for ongoing praxis—action, reflection, and revision—toward liberationist, decarceral practice.³ Upon receiving word of this special...

中文翻译：

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8 到废除到无穷大（8 => 废除 => ∞）


以下是内容的简短摘录，而不是摘要：

• 
  8 到废除到无穷大（8 => 废除 => ∞）
•  Aaron Moore Ellis（生物）

当我批评的每个系统在一定程度上都由我所爱的有缺陷和复杂的人组成时，我该如何进行系统的分析和方法？

这个问题总是引导我进行自我反省。如果我能看到我延续系统性压迫的方式，如果我能看到我从哪里学到这种行为，以及忘记它有多么困难，当我看到我所在的社区、我生活的世界的混乱时，我就会开始变得更加谦卑。

—阿德里安娜·玛丽·布朗¹

 （a） 身份

将自己置于学术课程的最前沿有时可以简单地打勾;这是“良好、平衡”奖学金的基本要求。也许在最好的情况下，将自己置于境地体现了谦逊和对身份和生活经历的反思性承认，这批判性地影响了学者在工作中的目标、方法、主题和敏感性。那么我是谁呢？亚伦·摩尔·埃利斯。我从拒绝大写的开拓者中带头。我是谁来做这件事呢？一个怀特、非二元、德系犹太人、爱尔兰人、AMAB、m@sc 的人，出生在相对特权的环境中，一个在被盗土地上的定居者。…我*不*是谁可以这样做呢？利害攸关是什么？什么是承诺？至于拼写：为什么写 “wyte” 而不是拼出颜色？有些人可能熟悉故意重新拼写与痛苦、创伤和压迫相关的单词的做法，以便承认那些受这些词所指影响的人的经历，并软化他们的阅读体验。对于那些有特权而没有感受到这些词语的共鸣影响的人，我邀请你考虑将我的拼写重新拼写视为一个提醒，特权伴随着对他人经历的内在盲目，对他们来说，词语以特定的方式重要，他们的生活经历深受暴力和压迫的影响;那些有这些经历的人很重要;我们——我们所有人——都可以寻求让生活更透气、更宜居、更快乐的方法。我*不是*谁来重新拼写这些单词呢？重新拼写与否有什么利害关系？

这些都是反复出现的问题——这些问题不会阻止我前进或让我沉默，而是与我一起前进。我把这些问题留在身边，作为对其他人的邀请，让他们看到他们如何见证我的认同、他们听到我宣告的内容和他们看到的我所体现的内容之间的和谐或不和谐。也就是说，这些问题邀请我承担责任——对我的决定、行动、身份、特权、责任和能力负责，以应对那些受结构性和人际压迫影响最大的人，无论是在附近还是在世界各地。

当我在未割让的 Timucua、Anais、Seminole 和 Miccosukee 土地以及 Lenapehoking 之间撰写和编辑这篇反思时，我被提醒，忏悔的学术研究和问责可能从书面文字开始，但必须遵循并发展为行动和意图、关系社区联系、反思和修正。这不是一件容易的事，我绝不以自己为榜样——我只是承认我是谁，在哪里，并邀请来自内部和外部的责任，以寻求替代我出生和文化适应的日常生活。

我是戏剧界的后来者。我以活动家组织者和理论负责人的身份来到剧院，寻找存在和社会政治转型的工具。我发现舞台的无限可能性令人信服。我把剧院想象成一个实验和共同创造变革性实践的场所。然后，我遇到了戏剧界。

在我看到 2021 年高等教育戏剧协会 （ATHE） 会议上呼吁废奴主义学者和从业者召开会议之前，我从未听说过学术机构中有废奴主义戏剧集体或组织。² 在 ATHE 2021 会议之前，从那时起，我们一直在相互交流。我们现在出版一本杂志，作为对解放主义、去监禁实践的持续实践——行动、反思和修正——的起点和挑衅。³ 在接到这个特别的消息后......