My puppets did it again. They pulled me out of my shell. Out of hiding. This music director, Derek, from a local church asked me if I would put on a puppet show around Easter. This church is very progressive, queer-friendly, and justice-minded. Loving and welcoming with good preaching and music. They invest a lot in their arts and have a beautiful sanctuary made of stone and stained glass with the most delicious acoustics. They were willing to take a chance on a puppetmaster from outside the church taking over part of their Palm Sunday service. It went over great with the kids and the adults! So many bad jokes. Shout out to Scooty for the brilliant ones. The congregants who made up the puppet troupe were game from the beginning. Developed their characters and molded the script without a tongue in their cheek. They delivered their lines cleverly and worked together like champs. I always say I’ll take enthusiasm over talent any day. With this group, I got both. Pastor Lindsay asked me after a couple rehearsals if it felt weird doing puppets in church. I told her quite honestly it feels like coming home. As a kid, I cut my chops puppeteering in the church. Maybe my personal journey is best told through puppets. I found pictures of my first GoodTime Wagon when I was a 16 year old summer missionary in Ashland, OR. We would pull up to local parks, round up the kids, and do a two-hour day camp experience with puppets, clowns, games, songs, and artmaking. Engaging with kids was amazing. It offset the darkness of the nights when this wide-eyed kid in love with the world was taken advantage of. We made my second GoodTime Wagon when I was 19 doing mission work east of Portland, OR, down the Columbia Gorge. Camas, WA was about as rural and blue collar as you get. The paper mill employed most of the town and provided a breathtaking aroma. We made the wagon out of a horse trailer with PVC piping, shower curtains, a tarp, and a wooden sign painted by one of the gals in the troupe: H.O.G.W.A.S.H. Helping Out God With All Serving Hands with a cute picture of a pig in a bath. We did the same type of day camp-experience as before. I wrote the scripts and developed the curriculum this time. During this time, JoJo’s puppets were made by a clever seamstress in the church who took apart one we bought from the Southern Baptist catalogue and form-fitted to my specifications. All colors of the rainbow with no natural skin tones or hair colors: no need to racialize puppetland. The troupe that formed was a great collection of folks. Talk about angels! We had so much fun. They provided a lifeline during the darkest period of my life. A time when I had given up and accepted the fate of an abused and trapped soul. This puppet troupe was my OG safe space. I then took my puppets to Detroit, working with unhoused people and kids from the local housing projects. We put together a puppet troupe of the older youth. They performed at local churches. Even put on a Christmas musical. That was my first packed house, and I haven’t stopped craving it since. I left my puppets there and went back to the Northwest. Fell in with the social workers, came out of the closet, shook off the abuser, and traded Jesus for Justice. I picked up my puppets on the road trip to live in New York City with my boyfriend, his heavily pierced bestie, and my cotton candy pink hair. Now, as I dusted off my puppets for Palm Sunday, I did so with gratitude for how my puppets have been a lifeline through the years. I’ll save their following adventures for another blog - Part Two. What comes next is a queer story of liberation, love, and tons of laughter. From a puppet porno shoot outside of Boston to a romantic photo shoot with puppets at Niagara,from an emergency contraception protest film to queer spectacle performances in Chicago, these puppets have covered it.
