From the Desk of Festival Co-Producer, Jeff Desautels
Welcome to our blog
Reader, if you are youthful, you may not even know what the word “blog” means. It’s the sound I make lately whenever I wake up in a cold sweat. It’s also short for “web log,” a term coined back when the internet favored long-form, slow content.
Here at Stage Fright, we champion dying media long abandoned by the ruling class. First, theatre. And now, the website. Some call us behind the times. Increasingly, others are calling us prophetic — as the glittering castles of hypercapitalism begin to crumble and burn, we’re over here on the sidelines, producing our little plays and writing our little blogs.
Come sit by the fire. It’s warm.
I’m gay.
Now that that’s out of the way, let me tell you a story.
When I came out, I had one gay friend (Hi, Joe). He gave me a crash course in our cultural canon — Queer As Folk, But I’m A Cheerleader, The Broken Hearts Club, Paris Is Burning, and the brand new reality competition series RuPaul’s Drag Race. From this educational experience, I gathered that being a Gay Man meant I would be assigned a brunch cohort with other gay men who would take turns being will-they/won’t-they lovers and close confidants for 3-5 seasons and the rest of my life.
Reader, this did not happen.
I went on a few dates and they ghosted me or I ghosted them and that was that. No brunch.
It wasn’t until I moved to Portland that I truly felt like I belonged. I found a group of gays — and not just gays. The whole alphabet showed up: trans men, nonbinary folks, trans women, sapphic women, and the wonderful “+.”
I’m not trans or nonbinary, but I did feel affirmed when my friend and Co-Producer Amica once agreed that my gender is that of an alien who enjoys wearing a man suit while on Earth. When I met my transmasculine friends, I saw the way they wore their masculinity and suddenly I loved my man suit a little more.
Oh, I didn’t know I could tie a tie that way, or button that there, or cuff the sleeves.
“Be a man” was a cryptic instruction I had been trying to decipher my whole life and my friend kindly pointed out I have been reading the manual (MANual!?) upside down this whole time. The more I saw the variety of ways people moved through the world, the more confident I became in myself. Especially as that self was welcomed with open arms by people I admired. Brunch.
There is, I believe, an epidemic of men not knowing how to wear their man suits.
In lieu of admitting defeat and asking for help, they wear cenobite fashion and insist it’s comfortable. They listen to cenobite podcasts, and complain that anyone wearing a man suit in a fun way is forcing their children not to grow up looking like cenobites, too.
… I don’t know how far to stretch this metaphor, but suffice to say: they could save themselves a lot of grief if they… I don’t know… developed empathy for trans people? Maybe listened to them? Maybe learned a little style while they’re at it? Like they do on Queer Eye.
My point is this:
The fight is not for tolerance. It’s not even for acceptance. Our trans sisters, brothers, and siblings are community leaders, culture makers, and spiritual guides. They deserve reverence.
"Okay, Jeff, but what does any of this have to do with your little festival? I only clicked this page to buy tickets. I’m youthful and don’t have time for blogs, so get to the point. Also, thank you for teaching me what a blog is."
Sometimes I wake up and feel silly for spending so much time and energy on this festival when — let’s be honest — there’s a genocide happening in Palestine. How is this helping? What good is theatre in a world on fire?
My heart is broken. My trans friends have every reason to be scared. And that makes me angry.
A common refrain to the question, "What the fuck are we supposed to do?" is: Strengthen the bonds in your community. That’s what I want for Stage Fright this year — to explore how we can leverage this amazing community we’ve built.
We have a network of artists, audiences, and small businesses who already support one another. How can we go further? How can Stage Fright grow into something even more useful, more intentional, more powerful?
I’d love to hear your ideas! Email me: jeff@stagefrightfestival.com
And please keep fighting… For Palestine. For trans lives. For joy. For justice. For brunch.
We can multitask!
