Leah Cooper was adopted after being featured on a Los Angeles TV show when she was a baby. She hadn't given it too much thought until recently. Now she's immersed in the writing of a play that centers on the topic.

"I'm discovering I have more feelings about my adoption than I thought," she said.

The "Adoption Play Project" is in development stages through Wonderlust Productions, a theater company that Cooper and her husband, Alan Berks, who live in Minneapolis, started up six months ago.

A merger of two previous groups that they separately ran, the company strives to "forge new ways of seeing our common experiences by creating new plays that transform the past into a better future," the group's materials state.

The play is being written through a collaboration with other members of the adoptive community. To provide material, the group is convening a number of "story circles" or discussions that bring together people whose adoption experiences run the gamut, Cooper said.

The story circles have attracted a wide range of people, including birth mothers and a birth father; adoptees—including a few from Korea and one from Guatemala. So far, the company has held four "story circles." The next two are planned for Thursday, Nov. 20, from 7 to 9 p.m. at Byerly's in St. Louis Park and Saturday, Nov. 22, from 11:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. at the Pillsbury House Theatre in Minneapolis. Additional story circles, including one aimed at Asian adoptees, will take place in December.

Cooper, who trained with the community-oriented Cornerstone Theater Company in California a few years ago, was drawn to the idea that theater should be made "live" with the help of community members. The final product won't be a documentary, but it will aggregate many people's stories in a fictional way, so "it gets to be universal instead of just one person's experience," she said.

More traditional theater has a different starting point. That is, "we decide on a story to tell and we go find a community to tell it to," Cooper said. In this community-engaged process, "we start with the people and then we decide what to tell," so the narrative unfolds further down the line, she said.

It means taking in a wide variety of stories that reflect the full spectrum surrounding adoption, at least in this early stage. Although Cooper and other theater company members are taking notes at the "story circles," paying attention to emerging patterns, they're also trying to hang back to get the big picture.

"You don't want to decide too soon what a story is. It's true in the creative process, once you start making decisions you're eliminating possibilities," Cooper said.

Cooper previously led the "Veterans Play Project," which was coproduced with the Mixed Blood Theatre last fall at Fort Snelling. The play drew from the experiences of nearly 100 veterans. Additionally, a dozen active and retired soldiers appeared in the production that took several years to complete.

For many of the veterans, the show opened up a dialogue about their military service. "We're not in the therapy business, but there was a healing in it that was really profound," Cooper said.

The "Adoption Play" is using the same model. The topic bubbled up as something that doesn't get much attention, in general. Historically, the adoption process itself has been enshrouded in secrecy. "People don't lead with it. They don't say, 'I was adopted,' or 'I gave up someone for adoption,'" Cooper said.

A wide range of perspectives

The "story circles," which draw anywhere from three to 20 people, see a mix of birthparents, adoptees, adopters and others who are connected to adoption, people who are rarely in the same room together, she said.

It's mostly women who come — "men are harder to reach," especially birth fathers — but still, the "story circles" reveal a wide range of emotions. Concerned United Birthparents, which meets monthly in St. Louis Park, has helped the theater company tap birthparents to participate in the conversations.

Emily Alewine, who works as a clinical specialist at MN ADOPT, an organization in Minneapolis that serves adoptive, kinship and foster families, attended a recent "story circle" that took place at her workplace.

During the "story circle," she heard from longtime colleagues about their thoughts on adoption. "It was a very moving experience." The different views "add to the mosaic of what does adoption mean," Alewine said. "It's such an overlooked experience. There are a lot of misconceptions about it and foster care. Society sees adoption as a one-time experience. It's a lifetime of emotions and experiences."

Likewise, the emphasis tends to be on adoptive parenting and not on adoptees, she said. The play will speak to that richness in a creative way, which is valuable, Alewine said.

Jamie Swezey of Minneapolis, a Korean adoptee, was nervous to join in a "story circle" a couple of weeks ago. However, she's glad she got involved. "Being an adoptee is inherently a very lonely experience," she said. "For us to come together, to have a space where we can share experiences, and see there's a lot in common with one another, it's therapeutic."

During the "story circle," a birth mother said "there's not one day that goes by where she doesn't think of her child who she gave up for adoption," Swezey said. "When she said that, it was a big moment for me. I had never thought of that before. I thought I was the only one who feels lost, who had these issues."

Recently, Swezey began a search for her birthparents, which she's documenting to later share with the adoptive community. The "Adoption Play Project" was in sync with her effort. This whole process represents "a huge milestone in my life," she said. "It's very exciting, scary and daunting."

Creating a coherent play

During the discussions, Wonderlust composer Aaron Gabriel and choreographer Tamara Ober, as well as a few other theater company members, brainstorm about "what is resonating" in the "story circles" — the common threads, the play's possible structure, technical aspects and aesthetic considerations, Cooper said.

For example, music can provide levity in the play. Movement also plays a role in the storytelling. The choreographer observed that while they talked, the birthparents would often make a gesture in which they signaled the moment of handing over their child to someone else, Cooper said.

Also, another image pertains to mirrors. Adoptees and birthparents imagine each other throughout their lives, in a sense mirroring each other emotionally. "We're exploring how we use each element on stage," Cooper said.

Cooper hopes to introduce some sense of ritual into the play, to make for a deeper experience. "Every culture or tribe has a ritual around birth, identity, adulthood, rejoining families. In the adoptive community, it's very transactional," she said.

Later on, Wonderlust will host workshops and readings, to continue to flesh out a script.

The eventual production next summer will involve a mix of professionals and community members. "We don't expect community members to become performers overnight," Cooper said. Rather, the company can tailor the scripts to their skills. Having community members onstage brings authenticity to the show, she said.

Going forward, Wonderlust will stage a mix of plays that go through the intensive community process and others that are more ensemble-based.

Whatever the format, the plays will try to shed light on communities that don't get a lot of exposure. "Hopefully everything we do is driven entirely by curiosity about our immediate community," Cooper said. With both the veterans and the adoption plays, there was "an accumulating sense of 'there's something here to know,'" she said.

Adoption is outside of the norm; it's "this 'other' kind of family," Cooper said. "It's fascinating to hear about."

Anna Pratt is a Minneapolis freelance writer. She can be reached at annaprattjournalist@gmail.com.