TDF Stages

Seeing Heaux Church, Saturday Church and Oh Happy Day made me call my mom

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When Brandon Kyle Goodman, the "heauxly" pastor leading the celebration of self-love Heaux Church at Ars Nova, asked the audience to share our shame, my words caught in my throat. Throughout the show, I felt safe and engaged. But in that moment, despite being surrounded by my fellow queer people of color, my blood ran cold. Even as people started to share, releasing the tension in the air, I still couldn't bring myself to speak up. I was petrified. In a roomful of my community, what did I have to be embarrassed about? That's when I had an epiphany: shame’s powerful grip still had a hold on me.

Mercifully, three Off-Broadway shows I saw over the past few weeks have helped loosen its grasp.

As an adolescent, I was ashamed of my queerness, just like Ulysses, the protagonist of the new musical Saturday Church at New York Theatre Workshop, with a book by Damon Cardasis and James Ijames and songs by Sia and Honey Dijon. Relatives and peers mocked my effeminate nature, so I internalized the feeling that my queerness was something to hide. Ulysses does the same after his churchgoing aunt uses shame as a weapon, prompting him to hide his light under a bushel and distance himself from his newfound queer family.

Losing that support steers Ulysses toward dangerous situations. The same thing happened to me—I sought the approval I assumed I would never get at home from individuals who did not have my best interests at heart. Eventually, I accepted that my queerness was a part of me. And when I came out, like Ulysses, I was relieved to be embraced by my loved ones. Watching Saturday Church took me back to that tumultuous period in my life and gave me a framework to better understand what I went through.

Oh Happy Day!'s protagonist Keyshawn (portrayed by playwright Jordan E. Cooper) was not so lucky. Because of his queerness, he was disowned by his father and taken in by a revered community member who took advantage of him at his most vulnerable. When Keyshawn returns home at God's behest to save his family, he is so ashamed of having been victimized, he lashes out at them instead.

Watching the play, I recalled the many beds I had no business being in and the relationships that damaged my self-esteem in my late teens and early twenties. I was ashamed of how I allowed people to treat me, and I avoided going home because I was afraid my parents would see my worthlessness written all over my face.

Over the years, Keyshawn's resentment calcified into loathing, and his journey is to release that hatred and move on. Though I wasn't assigned a divine mission like Keyshawn, my dread of being judged kept me trapped in my shame.

And that shame continues to impact my life. I keep my people at a distance, afraid they may see my weakness and reject me. Friends, partners, family, an audience of queer strangers at Ars Nova— the very people who might embrace me if given the chance.

But Heaux Church challenged me to transform my present and my future. Goodman's theatrical ritual showed me how much I was still hiding… from everyone. They spoke so plainly and confidently about their shame that it inspired me. When the show finished, I invited the friend I brought to walk and talk a bit. Neither of us had participated in the shame exercise. If a room of strangers was too daunting, perhaps a private conversation would make sharing our shame easier?

It did, but it was still uncomfortable as hell. We talked through insecurities about our bodies, fears about our futures, and sadness about how our past traumas still affect us. Tears were shed, and it felt like I was seeing him for the first time—and he me. It was akin to my skin being flayed, but beyond the pain was understanding and connection.

I hope I will continue to have the courage to be vulnerable with my loved ones, both friends and family. I know it will be hard, but I want my parents to know all of me. I want them to know that I no longer view my femininity as something to hide and that if they do, that's their problem, not mine. Eventually, I want to go to family gatherings in makeup and ask my mom for advice about my love life… including sex! I can already guess which family members may shun me and losing them will sting. But did I ever really have them if they never knew the real me?

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TDF MEMBERS: At press time, discount tickets were available for Heaux Church and Oh Happy Day! Go here to browse our latest discounts for dance, theatre and concerts.