Reflections on Bravery at the Queer Joy Conference

A friend recently asked me: How can people learn to be brave? What does it take to be brave and share your story? How can someone who is not usually brave find their courage?

Bravery is social. Bravery comes when we get together and support one another. At a moment when there is tremendous silencing in our world, the need for connection and support of one another’s bravery is crucial. A beautiful realm where we can practice bravery and encourage our courage is, of course, in the theater.

This concept of bravery and performance was a central theme in a workshop that I taught last week at the Queer Joy Conference, hosted by the Pacific Center for Human Development. Participants joined me in an improv session that began with an introduction to “Yes, and…" and ended in a performance of improvised tableaus. We began with silly games like “Whiskey Mixer,” and “Whoosh Bong,” and over time moved into more earnest storytelling and deep listening. By the end of our 90 minutes together, each participant felt comfortable stepping onto the stage, sharing a short story about their life, and having the troupe create a tableau to reflect that story. The tableaus captured the sentiment, movement, and subtext of the storytellers’ perspectives. I was blown away by the bravery!

I left the event remarking to myself how special it was to be in a room full of queer and trans people, getting silly and serious together, playing make-believe on a Thursday afternoon. I feel at ease in the company of my community. For many of us, bravery is something we’ve been forced to choose, often from a very young age. Being queer in a culture that oppresses us means we have no other choice but to get brave. Living authentically, walking down the street, loving who we love: these are acts of bravery in an anti-queer culture. It felt so special to use those bravery muscles for silly improv games, and then to use them to honor one another’s stories in the tableaus. I truly feel at ease in the company of my community.

Centering queer joy at a time like this is a brave and bold move. How can improv help us with such a task? I believe the lessons of improv are a study in bravery. “Yes, and” helps us affirm one another, build each other up, and create something out of nothing. Deep listening is another crucial improv skill. Listening allows us to really connect; without connection there is no bravery. Lastly, improv is the art of celebrating our mistakes. Instead of punishing ourselves and one another for messing up, we embolden each other to try new things, knowing that we’ll mess up, and when we do, it creates the possibility of something new to be born.  

But all these improv lessons are just the tip of the iceberg. And really, better than telling you, it’s easier to show you what I mean. I hope you’ll join me and the rest of our beloved community sometime at Provocation Theatre, perhaps at our upcoming “Yas And” conference, which will center Queer narratives. In shows, in rehearsals, at our community jams, let’s get brave together, and see what improv is all about.