Torn Between Identities, an Israeli-Raised Palestinian Actress Searches for ‘Home’

One of the most heartbreaking scenes in Hend Ayoub’s solo show Home? A Palestinian Woman’s Pursuit of Life, Liberty and Happiness comes early, when young Hend giddily attends a party to celebrate Purim. The holiday, commemorating the defeat of the plot to massacre the Jews at the hands of Haman, is expressed by Hend as “the best holiday in Israel” as the Israeli children at the party enjoy costumes, crowns and snacks.

There’s one major problem. Hend, who lives as a citizen of Israel, is still an outsider as a Palestinian — or, in more dismissive terms used by those around her, an Arab. At the celebration, she tries to recoup the joy she possessed just moments prior by reminding other attendees that she too has a crown, and a wand, but gives up as tears explode from her young eyes. She makes a heart-wrenching request: “I want my mama.”

It’s a painful moment, and a critical piece of writing by Ayoub that sets in motion the story’s plot. Home, a one-woman autobiographical show about trying to make it as an actress split between Israeli citizenship and Palestinian identity, is a co-production between Z Space and San Francisco Playhouse that already has people talking ahead of its New York opening off Broadway in September.

Veteran director Carey Perloff lends a smooth hand to the play’s staging, moving the action with controlled freneticism. While some of Ayoub’s characterizations lean into tropes (the old woman with the hand on her back is a tired cliché), her story of a young girl who becomes a woman while searching for a home is poignant and timely. As added weight, it’s impossible to ignore the context that surrounds the play: devastating images of war and starvation that continue to pour out of Ayoub’s native region.

Ayoub’s words spend most of their capital making the case for humanity, and her script does a stellar job of avoiding pitfalls that might have strayed from the story’s core. There’s an American-dream quality to the narrative, right down to striving for a glamorous Carrie Bradshaw existence in New York. But Carrie is white with a nice American accent, and casting directors aren’t necessarily smitten with Hend’s Hebrew mastery of Strindberg’s Miss Julie or Shakespeare’s Feste the Fool.

There are more immediate characters that need to be cast, anyway: Hend has her pick of Middle Eastern terrorists if she wants, with some random Iranians thrown in. A repetition of the word “next” from various casting directors invites her to strip down her dignity for each audition. For Hend, being typecast is simply another indignity along the way to fulfilling her passions.

What may be Ayoub’s most powerful attribute is how she lives and plays her truth. One-person shows depend so much on characters the audience can’t see, which is where much of Ayoub’s affect resides. Her emotions are extremely rich, be they tragic, funny or charming, and ride the coattails of honesty.

Hend looks to Egypt, which offers new opportunities for acting. But in many ways, the same demeaning roles come calling; not untypical for a woman of color trying to move past society’s preconceived images. (This time, Hend quips that to really show her acting skills, maybe it’s time to play a prostitute.)

The power that Hend begins to unearth comes in what she’s truly striving for. Hend’s family were medical professionals and pharmacists — why can’t she play those truths? Who might be willing to see her whole self? The answer comes in the form of her own words. Ayoub is an Israeli, a Palestinian, an actor, a daughter, and a friend.

Nowadays, Ayoub’s childhood wand and crown manifest in the words she chooses as a playwright. They present themselves in honest Arabic and Israeli accents, and in fabricated American accents, too.

While Ayoub spends the 90-minute play searching and exploring the concept of home, what she may come to realize is the stage that rests beneath her nimble feet might be the best kind of home anyone could ask for — the one that was hers all along.

‘Home? A Palestinian Woman’s Pursuit of Life, Liberty and Happiness’ runs through Aug. 16 at Z Below (470 Florida St., San Francisco).