RISE UP

It ain’t easy being different. Growing up, I was teased mercilessly for being the fat kid in school.

My nickname in middle school was “knife and fork”. The boys would scream “GODZILLA” when I’d come out onto the playground. Some of my best friends played a game at recess that was based solely on running away from me. I hated myself, I hated my appearance, and by 13 years old I was battling an eating disorder and self harm which continued into my late teens.

It wasn’t until I found my passion for the performing arts - and really dove into training for the stage in post secondary school that I was able to find my identity, my sense of self, and my self worth. Through dance, I learned how to embrace my body for what it was, and what it was capable of doing - rather than constantly fighting to change it into something else. Through acting, I learned how valuable being in touch with your emotions can truly be, rather than bottling them up, or letting them swallow you whole. Through singing, I learned that onstage, our lived experiences can inform our performances, and create a connection between the performer and the audience which can heal them, and heal the performer, too. I learned that if I armed myself with my vulnerability, that I would be held by the audience in their rapt attention, and that I would create legions of adoring people who loved me just as I am - just BECAUSE I am. It was the first time in my life I learned to feel empowered just by being myself. The first time I’d ever felt like I had a place in this world, and all I had to do was be myself.

There is nothing quite like standing in front of a hushed theatre, singing your heart out, the crowd in the palm of your hand. Silence so loud you could hear a pin drop. Then, the final notes, and thunderous applause. This has been my life’s passion and my career now for over 16 years. I owe my very survival to the performing arts - my recovery from depression, eating disorders and self harm. Yet, this connection to performing is so much deeper than that.

In my late 20’s, I was diagnosed with inflammatory arthritis, a progressive, debilitating illness that impacts my day to day life more than I could have ever imagined. Some days, just getting out of bed and dressing myself is a task. Some days, I can hardly walk. I find the will to continue, and the energy to move unencumbered, when I am preparing to hit the stage. When the cameraman calls “ACTION” - or when those stage lights come up, all of the pain that courses through this body is suspended for those moments - washed away by the adrenaline, the rush of performing, and the magic that takes hold.. I am transformed, and for those few brief moments, I am whole in my body again, and I am free.

I realize I’m fighting an uphill battle with this disease. I wonder if it will eventually take my beloved stage away from me - but for now, I keep pushing through. If performing saved my life once before, it can certainly do it again.

As a multidisciplinary performer, one of the greatest tasks I have is to create my own story, my own choreography and my own costuming when I am building a performance piece. Oftentimes, this includes sewing and crafting intricate costumes which typically wouldn’t be made for plus sized bodies like mine. Oftentimes, this means hours bent over my sewing table, crafting away with my trusty Fiskars Easy Action Scissors. These scissors have enabled me to continue sewing for myself when my arthritis no longer allowed me the freedom to use my regular sewing shears. The very act of creating costuming for myself that traditional theatre wouldn’t allow - and casting myself in roles which traditional theater would reserve for smaller bodies, has been both revolutionary and healing, for myself and for my audience. I am the product of a society which tells us “You cannot” - and I remind the world “You Can”. Like the phoenix, I rise up, again and again, and remind the world that we are our strongest when we arm ourselves with our weaknesses. We are our most vibrant when we embrace our differences.

RISE UP is a piece I recently created for Toronto Pride’s 40th anniversary festival. The costume, lovingly hand crafted by me over a two week period during this most recent lockdown was inspired by the imagery of a phoenix rising from the ashes. It consists of over 30 individually cut, hand painted and sewn PVC “feathers” - attached to a handmade foam and nylon webbing harness (made from old pool noodles and 25 metres of nylon webbing). The feathers themselves were cut from old yoga mats with the help of my Fiskars Easy Action Scissors (seriously, I use them for EVERYTHING) and made cutting through yards and yards of tough yoga mats a breeze. Creating the harness for this costume was a combination of luck and determination - I used old telephone wire to give the pool noodles some internal structure (or “bones”) while still enabling them to move like wings. When creating and performing this piece, I envisioned all that I’ve overcome to get where I am today - I am being reborn, time and time again, thanks to dedication, hard work, and the ability to rise up - and rise like the waves.