The  haunted wanderer appears within many modern Jewish narratives. When I consider my own relationship to Jewish identity, it is impossible to separate myself  from this status as "between worlds." We have all been dybbuks at some point in our lives. We find ourselves caught in liminal spaces–stages of change, growth, loneliness, grief…spaces of uncertainty and ambiguity. We possess whatever bodies–personas, communities, purposes, obsessions, etc.–that we think can bring us relief from our wanderings. This project has been about leaning into the question of what it means to claim an excavated identity. I was drawn to S. Ansky because I was fascinated by what it means to be a ‘folklorist’ for one’s own culture–the removal one takes on when their relationship to their people is that of an anthropologist. Ansky was not just an archivist: his work was filled with sharp critique and demands for progress. His use of Jewish folklore in ‘The Dybbuk’ to advocate for progress in Jewish communities speaks to both his desire to preserve the beauty of Jewish culture and a profound hope for the future of his threatened people.  Ansky strengthened and forwarded his community by inserting his individual voice into the broken narrative. For this project, I sought to discover what my voice sounded like in the cacophony of wandering singers. I relied on instinctual pulls towards images and concepts that spoke to whatever it is in me that I call “Jewish.”  The core of this production concept has been the idea that, as Leah is killed by the contaminating spirit, she transforms into a tree. I was drawn to the body horror of this image–the perversion of her humanity as she transforms into a symbol associated with growth and connection. The image of a growing tree, with tendrils blindly wandering and splitting towards the sun, speaks to the haunted travelings of those of us caught in the betweens. As the branches weave themselves through the air, there is an adjacent unseen network of blind tendrils taking root in the earth. The mirror image of our forged paths anchor us, establishing our place within the ancient network of haunted wanderers. We are all wretched, lost creatures of the betweens. Our only settlement is in our community of others caught on thresholds. Our wandering is our home.