Best Books and Reads of 2019

It's that time of year again... 

It's been a while since I did a reading roundup and it's the last day of 2019, so I figured - why not?

Long-time followers know that I am an avid reader. I try to hit at least 100 books read every year, which is normally not a problem for me. Last year I wanted to step it up to 110 books or more, but (un?)fortunately got derailed with a lot of special trips (more to come on those! keep checking here) that sucked up reading time so my total remains at 100.

So without further ado, here are the best of the 100 books I finished in 2019. It's important to note that these are not all books published in 2019 - it's the best of the books I read in 2019, several of which have been on my list for years. Hopefully you will find something great to add to your list here for 2020, whether or not it's new. And if you like this content, make sure to follow my Books page on Compendium and Goodreads to stay updated on my latest great reads.

Best History Book - Tie 

2019 seemed to be the year of non-fiction for me. For some reason I was drawn more than usual to richly researched books, and it was very hard to choose between the best of them. Both of these books enriched my understanding of world history and filled in massive gaps left by my sub-par American education on global history. Both are slower reads but highly worth reading.

A Fistful of Shells: West Africa from the Rise of the Slave Trade to the Age of Revolution by Toby Green

This is the best single history of any part of Africa I've ever read and should honestly be taught in all schools. I picked it up after my month-long trip in West Africa because my overall knowledge of African history and cultures is so severely lacking - the only region we ever learned about in school was Egypt and even that was almost remedial - and I needed to have a more well rounded understanding of the world. This was the perfect book to fill in my gaps. It's impeccably sourced and researched but remains quite readable and includes lots of maps, charts and photos to help visualize the information. The author provides highly nuanced approaches towards gender history and politics, the true impact of colonialism and religious influence, and embraces a complexity that dazzled me.

I wish more history books were this thorough and honest; there is no cover up or one-sided perspective here. The insistence on depth enriches every chapter and leave you with a full 360 degree view of life in West Africa in the period of transition between the 15th and 18th centuries. Toby Green's approach to history by using currency to explain how slavery started and true impact it had in this region and globally is a brilliant idea, and I think this information should be taught in all American classrooms as a mandatory part of understanding why chattel slavery was different and how deeply it robbed an entire continent of its potential. If I could give this more than 5 stars I would. Highly, highly recommend.

Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World by Jack Weatherford

I've heard this book so frequently mentioned by several highly successful folks on various podcasts and interviews as one of their favorites that I finally had to see what all the hype was about. What I got was a totally fascinating history that has completely changed much of my understanding of medieval Eurasian history. We hear so little (and certainly never positive) news of Mongols or Mongolia today, but the legacy left by Genghis Khan and his progeny, particularly Khubilai, is truly remarkable and deserves a much closer, fairer examination than it has often gotten. For example: did you know Genghis' empire was larger than all of North America combined and far, far larger than any other in history? He's the most successful empire builder to live past the age of 35 (dying at age 70). He introduced modern concepts like diverse leadership teams (always promoting on ability and intelligence, not by family relationship) and the first ever paper currency to strengthen his empire. His armies always included mobile engineering teams who would construct the infrastructure and weaponry needed for each specific voyage on-site as it was required, essentially a battalion of human 3D printers. They were also the first fighting force to successfully capture cities by traveling across frozen waterways. He was the first person to unify what is now India and China, and it's not impossible to think those nations would never have existed without his organizational influence.

If you're a history buff this is a must-read to enrich your understanding of world history and understand what short shrift the Khans have gotten over the years. It's not an apologia or a white wash - there were some highly violent, destructive acts taken by these armies and they are honestly depicted here - but that is only a tiny part of their story and the other side really deserves to be told. I found this completely fascinating and am recommending this book to people constantly.

Best Science Book - The Madame Curie Complex: The Hidden History of Women in Science by Julie Des Jardins

This was an amazing read that will launch 1,000 more - there are so many incredible women scientists I learned about through this book who I otherwise would never have heard of. The long history of women's difficulty in entering scientific fields is well researched here; my only quibble is that I wish it was a little more diverse including a wider range of women of color. The book groups subjects roughly by era but also by scientific discipline, a theming which helps show the lineage between female scientists and how they were able to build upon each other (much like you might see "genealogies" of chefs, academics or other professional careers). Portions about women who were deliberately cut out of promotions, Nobel prizes, etc. were completely infuriating and I can't begin to imagine the scientific discoveries we lost as a result. It was really interesting to note the differences Jardins drew between the style of male and female scientists. Sometimes this could get a bit exaggerated, but I do think there's something to be said for a difference in approaches yielding different results. This is a great read for all lovers of narratives like Hidden Figures and discovering those whose vital contributions have been historically overlooked. 

Best True Crime / Mystery - Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI by David Grann

I came across this book in an article about the Oklahoma! musical revival, threw it on my list for shits and giggles, and it completely blew me away. Killers of the Flower Moon has the same power of a Truman Capote, Jon Krakauer or Erik Larson kind of nonfiction; it's impossible to put down and almost as difficult to believe that its dark narrative is 100% true. I was shocked at how little of this history I knew and how violent it was. The contemporary American attitude towards Native Americans tends to be negative ("why aren't they over it yet?"), without recognizing how far the trauma committed against native peoples extends even into the present day. The events of this book take place well under 100 years ago and are shockingly evil, including deceptive marriages, poisoning and violent assault of people's spouses and own children, theft and worse. This book unwinds like a good mystery novel with plenty of suspects, moving targets, and unsolved mysteries that span decades. It's also a light history of the founding of the FBI, which is an event that I didn't know I needed to learn about and information I feel will be useful in the future. I highly recommend this, especially to fans of mystery or true crime books. It's another missing piece of American history that I've already called upon in the months since I read it.

Best Sports Book - Levels of the Game by John McPhee

I don't normally read sports books, but I'd seen this recommended by Tim Ferriss and others for years and finally got tired of hearing about it. Levels of the Game is surprisingly hard to find but it was so worth the wait. Everything said about this slender book is true: it is so much more than simply a sports story, and it really is one of the best pieces of short writing I've ever read, a true masterpiece of short form. I flew through the 150 pages or so in a single sitting and have been mentally chewing on it ever since.

At surface level this is just a gripping play-by-play of a legendary tennis match between Arthur Ashe and Charles Graebner; however, I quickly learned there is so much more packed in here. Deep character studies and biographies of both contestants are seamlessly interwoven throughout the match, and through them a window in to the wider issues of mid-20th century (and, I would argue, contemporary) America. The intense focus and detail here manages to make a brilliant case study of polar opposites of American privilege, racism, regional discrimination, classicism, religion, culture and so much more. It's truly a study in contrasts and had Graebner and Ashe not been teammates playing for Team U.S. in an international competition at the same time this match occurred, I think this match would have become as famous as Billie Jean King's "Battle of the Sexes" but in a racial context.

This book is truly fascinating, even for those who don't like sports very much, and if for no other reason it's worth a read for the truly excellent prose. I am still astonished at the mountains of detail John McPhee packs into clean, simple but elegant language in well under 200 pages - it's a masterpiece of construction and I am definitely striving to achieve his economic, elegaic style in my own writing.

Best Memoir: Dear America: Notes of an Undocumented Citizen by Jose Antonio Vargas

Immigration seems to be the issue of our times and there is no better book to read to understand this issue than Dear America. Something that gets lost in all the numbers and statistics on either side of the immigration debate is the vital understanding that these are not things we are talking about - they are people who have thoughts, feelings, needs and rights. There is so much nuance lost in the soundbite-driven conversations by talking heads on cable news, and people's lives are hanging in the balance.

This book has the perfect levity between personal memoir experience and hard data. As a former reporter for the Washington Post, Vargas is no slouch with his research, and all the data here can be backed up. Whichever side of the immigration debate you're on, I'd highly encourage you to pick up Dear America and gain some core understanding of this issue from someone who knows it most intimately. I suspect it's going to continue to be vital knowledge to have, especially as our economy continues to evolve. This is a must-read for every American citizen and I'd recommend it to any demographic.

Best Book About Women: Women & Power: A Manifesto by Mary Beard

Say what you want about GOOP: I was turned on to Mary Beard through GOOP's podcast and if I get nothing else out of it, it was fully worth it. This stunning, perfectly concise text analyzes the place and perception of women in Western society stemming back to the classical age (aka Greeks and Romans) and it is a fascinating look at texts like The Odyssey that so many of us have read (but this time with totally fresh eyes). I think most of us are aware by now how deeply rooted sexism is, but I also think we do not always see how explicitly and intentionally grounded that sexism is all the way back to our earliest cultural myths. Beard utilizes several delightful contemporary examples to apply her theories, and I blew through this in barely over an hour. Highly recommend this for all readers - it's got deep things to say in an easily accessible package and will really blow your mind with some of her examples.

Best African Lit / Locally Published Work: She Would Be King by Wayétu Moore

I have been reading a huge amount of work by African writers over the last few years, so when I saw that Minneapolis publisher Graywolf Press was releasing this I had to snap it up right away. This book was so good. It is truly diasporic and managed to weave three totally different character's plot lines seamlessly together, making it a story that people of many different identities could engage with. Structurally it is reminiscent of Yaa Gyaasi's transcendent novel Homegoing, although this has more complexity and narrative threads to weave together and a spicy dose of Marvel's Luke Cage to keep it modern. It felt to me like modern African superhero magical realism, with a little Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Wakanda and Marlon James all mixed together. It makes for a really fresh combo and I was deeply pulled into this narrative; it was hard to believe that this was Moore's debut novel and this book packs a lot of plot into 300 short pages. If you're into mystical fantasy / historical fiction, this is definitely one you should pick up.

Best Novel: The Unlikely Adventures of the Shergill Sisters by Balli Kaur Jaswal  

I fell in love with Balli Kaur Jaswal after reading Erotic Stories of Punjabi Widows, which I saw on a Reese's Book Club pick. This book (her second) solidifies her as one of my favorite new authors. This has all the touristic charm of stories like The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel but without the colonial gaze. Jaswal is so expert at having honest conversations about issues directly affecting women but packaging it into a treacly beach read text, which is stunningly difficult and achieved here with ease. Topics covered here include sexual assault, abortion, arranged marriage, immigration, sexism, Punjabi culture, and more - which sounds heavy but I promise that Shergill Sisters was one of the most fun reads I had all year. I flew through this book and could easily have devoured a whole series.

Best Fantasy: Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia  

I'm always looking for new fantasy fiction and I couldn't have been more thrilled with this one. I know almost nothing about Mayan civilization and mythology, something I am actively working to rectify. I found dipping into this new world really fascinating, especially with the complexity it treats death. It's a thrilling fantasy tale but also romantic and uniquely empathetic in a way I haven't seen in similar books; the author makes a point of prioritizing compassion and grace even in the characters with the darkest and most twisted motivations. This is a complete world on its own (lots packed into just over 300 pages!), but I could easily see it becoming a detailed series. It's like American Gods meets Akata Witch, but Mexican / Mayan style. Highly recommend to fantasy / mythology lovers who want something unique and new to read.

Best Children's Book - Tie 

I read a lot of children's literature this year. I know some people consider children's books not to be "real" literature or cheating for book counts, but hear me out: anyone who has attempted writing projects knows that writing more concisely is actually harder than providing length. Being able to communicate a full story in 50 pages or less with short, easy to pronounce words that can entertain grownups and kids alike is no easy task. Thankfully there are some fantastic new arrivals to the children's lit scene that you and the kiddos in your life can equally enjoy.

Sulwe by Lupita Nyong'o 

I threw this on my to-read list the second I heard Lupita Nyong'o was writing a book and so was one of the very first to get this from the library. Let me tell you - it lives up to all of the hype and more. The illustrations are luminous, seemingly glowing off the page, and are totally captivating with rich, full hues. The story is extremely affecting and you can tell how personal it was for Nyong'o to write. I had teary eyes only a few pages in, and the beautiful resolution will put a real warmth in your heart.

This is intended to speak to kids who are feeling downtrodden about their dark skin, but I actually think it's a good book for all kids to help soften assumptions / answer questions about skin color differences. Reading something like this at a young age would have helped introduce ideas of racial awareness to me at a foundational level that would have really served me later in my adult life, and I'm so glad it exists for kids now. I want this book to get ultimate support for the simple message (and to support Nyong'o, of course), but it's also just a very high quality, beautifully illustrated children's book that is among the year's best. Highly recommend for grownups and kiddos alike.

Julián Is a Mermaid by Jessica Love

This made the rounds on a bunch of best-of lists for children's books last year, and I found it really delightful. It's a simple book but one that beautifully shows how to accept and even celebrate people who present differently. I've always loved the term mermaid for trans / queer people and this book makes it even prettier. The centering of black and brown bodies in this story is also special and a beautiful celebration of diverse life.

In the debate around trans and LGBTQIA rights, one of the first questions raised is always "well what do I tell my children?" A book like this gives an easy answer: just tell them the truth. Kids are far more open minded and accepting than they get credit for, and I'm so glad that books like this exist to make the conversation easy for all parties. This is appropriate for kids of any age but especially ages 3 - 8 or so and definitely is a good tool for helping to explain the existence of queer / trans people if a child is asking about it. The colorful illustrations are also a top selling point.

Best Fairy Tale Re-mix: Cinderella Liberator by Rebecca Solnit

Rebecca Solnit is a perennial fave and the second I heard she had re-imagined a fairy tale I had to check it out. There's a lot to recommend this book, Solnit's feminist re-imagining of Cinderella among them, but the real standout to me were the stunningly gorgeous die-cut illustrations. Every image is portrayed through intricately cut silhouettes and it's a lovely way to tell the story. I almost wish this were a picture-only book, just to have more delicate illustrations to enjoy. This is probably best enjoyed by grownups or older kids (I'd say age 8 and up?) to get the full effect.

Rocking Out to Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Before there was Caitlyn Jenner, or Pose on FX ... 

Photo by Dan Norman

... or any number of other famous trans faces or characters; before Janet Mock was a twinkle in the eye of Hollywood's firmament, there was Hedwig.

Photo by Dan Norman

Hedwig and the Angry Inch has been making splashes on stages ever since it first premiered over 20 years ago, perhaps most famously when Taye Diggs became the first African American to perform the role on Broadway in 2015. She's now filling every ounce of Theater Latte Da's stage in Northeast Minneapolis in a taut, high octane performance that forces you to view her straight on, loud and proud, just as she always intended.

Photo by Dan Norman

Let me back up. Part memoir, part rock and roll concert, Hedwig and the Angry Inch tells the story of an accidental trans woman named Hedwig who is trying to scrounge a living as a rock and roll star, literally caught between two worlds - man and woman, Germany and the U.S., the spotlight and the shadows. Born in a world with no defined place for her, abused and with few options, Hedwig gets gender reassignment surgery in order to "marry" an American GI and flee East Germany only two years before the Berlin Wall comes down. Quickly divorced afterwards, bereft and driftless, Hedwig builds a life as a rock star and tells the entire sordid tale of her in a flashy 90 minute performance that includes her backup band The Angry Inch and a host of sideways stories that collectively paint the tapestry of trauma and resilience that define Hedwig and help her continue on.

Photo by Dan Norman

There's not a lot of presence on-stage outside of Hedwig herself, played brilliantly by Tyler Michaels King. I've seen King do a lot of different kinds of roles, but this is his most transformative yet. He easily blends between the hyper-feminine Hedwig and her masculine rock villain Tommy, almost unrecognizable at either end of the spectrum. King's lithe voice brings a classic-meets-metal tinge to the music much like a 1980s-era Linda Ronstadt (not a bad thing at all), and he absolutely dominates the performance. Jay Owen Eisenberg is an equal (if more subtle) chameleon as the other speaking role in this show, Hedwig's partner Yitzhak. Eisenberg is deceptively subtle and showcases an absolutely gorgeous voice at several points in the show, culminating in an exquisite rendition of "The Long Grift" that is a true highlight.

Photo by Dan Norman

Hedwig prances through a dizzying spectrum of costumes and wigs, designed respectively by Alice Fredrickson and Paul Bigot. Each presents a completely different image of her, and the rapid visualization helps demonstrate how confusing - or liberating - such a wealth of options could be to someone who doesn't have a defined place in society. Abbee Warmboe's mountain of props are masterfully tied into Michael Hoover's scenic design, keeping the transitions lighting fast and providing a place for everything. Mary Shabatura's lighting design is intentionally heavy handed - a little too much so for my taste, but certainly effective - and Alex Ritter's sound design prioritizes the distortion and tense tones that define rock and roll and keep the audience on edge as well.

Photo by Dan Norman

I'd never seen Hedwig and the Angry Inch before, and there was so much more packed into this show than I expected. I'm still chewing on it days after seeing it, and I suspect I'll continue to find new themes and threads the longer it sits with me. It's an aggressive, punchy musical that is so different from the softer stories of trans lives and experiences we tend to see in pop culture these days (call it the Janet Mock effect?). I think there's a place for both of them; what's undoubtedly true is that many people feel seen because of Hedwig, and this play opened a door that needed to be for many LGBTQIA+ friends among us. I want to call out Theater Latte Da's beautifully designed program here, which includes interviews, a glossary of terms, and a bunch of other important information that helps provide context around LGBTQIA+ issues and the history of this show.

Photo by Dan Norman

One question that lingers with me is the identity of the actor playing Hedwig herself, and it's one I don't have answers to. When King was announced in the titular role months ago I heard many grumblings in the #tctheater community that it should have gone to a person who publicly identifies as trans instead. Ideologically I support the sentiment; but I have to say in practice and after seeing the show, I have more questions than answers. Should all actors auditioning for roles like this be required to list their sexuality and gender on their applications? How does that affect a right to privacy? What if there are many other trans or queer actors on-stage, but just not in that titular role (as is the case here)? Who gets to be the gatekeeper of who is "acceptable" to play certain parts? Is this a standard that could backfire when applied in reverse? How do we prioritize marginalized voices in casting productions like this without erasing them? What if King really is the best choice for this role for this company - can we say that?

Photo by Dan Norman

It's an interesting conversation, and I think the fact that we're having it shows a lot of positive progress. This show is really well produced (as is Theater Latte Da's standard), and I am inclined to think that fans of Hedwig and the Angry Inch will leave the theater happy with the show they've seen. As far as those deeper questions go, I don't think I'm qualified to weigh in on them; but I am very interested to hear the answers the LGBTQIA+ community presents. If you want to see Hedwig and the Angry Inch, make sure to click here to learn more and get your tickets before it closes on May 5.

Photo by Dan Norman

Reveiewed in Brief: Waafrika by 20% Theatre Company + Saving Minnsky Theatre

I hate it when I'm late to the party... 

Photo Courtesy of Genesia Williams

But that was definitely the case at Waafrika last week. Unfortunately this little gem of a show is already closed - it was only on stage for a two week span - and I went late in the run with a friend. I wish I would have gone sooner, because there were so many great things to share with you!

Waafrika reminded me a lot of Cardboard Piano, a haunting new show at Park Square Theatre last season. It similarly tells a story of interracial queer love, this time set in Kenya in the early 1990s. Awino is the eldest daughter of a chief and chafes at the expectations put upon her by her tribe, especially regarding her sexuality. She falls in love with a local Peace Corps worker named Bobby and as word spreads of their romance life gets infinitely more difficult. Awino's father does what he can to protect her in the scope of his influence, but it's not enough - by the end of Waafrika, the tribe descends on Awino and Bobby and no action, no matter how drastic, is enough to save them.

The main difference I found between Cardboard Piano and Waafrika is that this time the show is written by and for people of color and queer people, and that difference really showed. The cast featured multiple trans and queer actors, only one white cast member, and an unabashedly direct story. This plot did not shy away from the dire consequences - which still exist to this day in many parts of Africa - that come from being proudly out in that region of the world. Characters endure female circumcision, rape and assault; thankfully, the cast did a masterful job of letting innuendo do most of the heavy lifting rather than graphically re-enacting these acts.

The striking thing about Waafrika that I keep ruminating on is how it was able to remain grounded despite the horrific circumstances in some of the scenes. This is a cast that clearly trusted each other implicitly; their connection felt genuine and I'd be willing to bet good money that several detailed conversations regarding consent were had before any love scenes entered the picture. There is also an implicit focus on beauty and goodness and intentional nuance. I can tell you with confidence that too many of the stories we see about Africa - or other areas designated as "third world" - focus solely on poverty and death and destruction. This is neither a fair nor honest representation of those regions. Imagine if all art about America focused solely on Flint's poisoned water system or the endless mass shootings we endure? It would hardly represent America as a whole. We do a great disservice to other people when we assume their lives can only be filled with bad things based solely on their zip code. In Waafrika, despite the hard circumstances these characters laugh, smile, reminisce, spark joy and just generally enjoy each other. Several direct asides address the audience on issues like female circumcision, complicating the running Western narrative that audiences bring to shows like this and forcing us to see such traditions through the characters' eyes. It was a refreshingly complex script that had a lot to offer, and I wish there was a clear way to share it with a wider audience now that it's closed.

This was also the first time I've been to Minnsky Theatre, a total shame since it's a total gem and is currently facing dire financial circumstances. One of the last spaces truly available to indie performers, it's definitely worth saving. The good news is - you can help with this! There's a fundraiser coming up on November 17 (more details by clicking here) to raise enough money to pay their outstanding debts. If you get a chance, please throw them a few spare dollars to keep their inclusive work going.

And I highly encourage you to check out the work 20% Theatre Company is doing. They always have unique stories to tell and performers who often don't get to star in other stages around town, and I promise you they're worth the trip. It's too late to see Waafrika, but you can click here to check out more about their mission and details about their next upcoming show in February 2019, Controlled Burn.

Reliving the Past with The Laramie Project

Here's to hoping history stops repeating itself. 

Photo by Shannon TL Kearns

It's always amazing to me how imperfectly progress on social issues is made. Causes will fight for decades on an issue with little to no improvement - or maybe even sustain severe setbacks - only to jolt society light-years into the future with a single strategic win in the courts or passing of a radical piece of legislation.

The slow pace of moving towards a better world is important to remember in times like these, when so many of us feel like we are slipping further and further into the dark ages. It's not uncommon for things to get worse before they get better, and a great way to remind ourselves of that is to pay tribute to the epochal moments that catapulted us forward in the first place.

To make an imperfect parallel as an example of such a moment: if the Stonewall riots were the LGBTQIA movement's iteration of Martin Luther King Jr.'s march to Selma (thanks to Marsha Johnson - whose name we all should remember vividly), the murder of Matthew Shepard might have been its Emmett Till. The persecution of LGBTQIA people has always been a part of our history - nothing proved that like the lack of urgency surrounding treatment and research for AIDS victims - so there isn't really a visible reason that Shepard's death should have resonated so widely. Yet, often it takes the mundanity of violence to finally reveal just how awful human nature is and how strongly it must be corrected. Reports of Shepard's last hours of suffering after a brutal beating, documented after a biker found Shepard zip tied to a fence and fatally abused, shocked and horrified the nation and marked the beginning of a shift in attitudes that culminated in passing civil rights protections based on gender and sexual identity, legalizing same sex marriage, and an ongoing national feud over protections for transgender people across the whole political spectrum.

The thing that fascinates me most about this is: why Shepard? Why do we care so much about him, specifically? Why not one of the other many thousands of LGBTQIA folks who have been hounded, killed, or assaulted over decades? I'm not sure anyone can ever develop a clear answer for this. The Laramie Project, part one of The Laramie Cycle and now under performance from Uprising Theatre Company, is probably the best attempt to frame Shepard's death in a way we can understand. It's a clear-eyed look at the tragedy through a collection of journal entries, interviews, and observations made by a theatrical team shortly after Shepard's death caught national attention in 1998. It's a fascinating show that reminds me a little of Season 1 True Detective, a foray into the world of #truecrime that gives us a far more nuanced view of middle America and the issue of violence against LGBTQIA people than we often hear elsewhere in the media. There isn't really a star or even a main character; instead, by collecting a wide range of perspectives about who Matthew Shepard was and what was so different about Laramie, Wyoming (the city in which he was killed), we get a telescopic point of view that might illuminate just why we can never take current freedoms for granted.

One of the things I like about Uprising Theatre Company is they always include a fresh face on stage. This is truly an ensemble cast, and they weave through the various narratives swiftly and delicately. There are several brand new actors to #tctheater performing here - Bruce Manning, Juliette Aaslestad, and Michael Novak all do a great job. Directors Sarah Catcher and Ashley Hovell expertly blend these fresh faces with more experienced performers like Tia Tanzer, Jessica Thompson Passaro, Seth Matz and Baku Campbell. The result is a cast with a wide representation, mimicking Laramie's surprising diversity and keeping each transition between monologues fresh. I really enjoyed these performers, who approach this difficult subject with finesse and a total lack of artifice that gives it a heightened emotional impact.

This impact is facilitated by the nearly nonexistent production design, which is essentially a collection of black boxes, a screen, and a few strategically chose small props. Combined with the simple lighting design from Jake Otto; intermittent projection design from Daniel Mauleon; and basic costume pieces that are easily changed between characters right on stage, it allows us to pay attention to the developing narrative and strips away anything that might distract from the purpose of The Laramie Project: Matthew Shepard's life and legacy in changing hearts and minds.

There couldn't be a better time to pull this show off; after all, this year marks the 20th anniversary of Shepard's death (almost to the day), and it feels like we receive daily stories of rights and protections, so recently won and so hard fought for, being stripped away with ease. It's easy to take for granted that the rights claimed by previous generations are an immutable certainty, but the fact is that we are always at risk of sliding backwards. Without intentional, consistent advocacy to continue to push our boundaries further we will never achieve the fair world that Matthew Shepard (and so many others like him) truly deserved. Learning about the people of Laramie, Wyoming and Shepard's life is one of the best ways I can think of to understand where we need to go to change hearts and minds and protect our LGBTQIA family. I enjoyed viewing this important piece of work, and I can think of no better tribute to Matthew Shepard than to stop by Plymouth Congregational Church to see this show (or its followup partner, The Laramie Project: 10 Years Later - you can see both as part of the full Laramie Cycle) before it closes on November 17. For more information or to buy tickets, click here.

And don't forget: if you want to know what you can do to protect rights already hard-won, it's pretty simple to start: Make sure you vote on November 6. Learn more about where and how by clicking here. 

MUST SEE: Mermaid Hour: Remixed at Mixed Blood

When you think of mermaids, what comes to mind? 

Photo by Rich Ryan

Many of us immediately jump to thoughts of Disney's Ariel a la The Little Mermaid. Others might harken to darker implications, such as the cursed mermaids of West African lore.

What I recently learned is that mermaid can also be a term used to describe genderqueer individuals as a way of identifying their blended identities. Like a mythical mermaid is not fully made for land or sea, mermaid can help visualize a queer person who does not identify as CIS gender and as such lives "between worlds." There's more about this here at the website for the U.K.'s Mermaids organization, which has advocated for awareness of and safe spaces for queer children over the last 20 years, but I learned it from the lovely new show Mermaid Hour: Remixed at Mixed Blood Theater, one of my must-see shows of 2018.

Photo by Rich Ryan

Mermaid Hour tells the story of Vi, a young Latinx trans woman, and her parents and friends as they navigate her transition and she starts to hit puberty. I want to emphasize up front that refreshingly, this is not a coming out story (although of course those are important too): Vi's gender identity is always known to her, her parents, and her friends, and there is no question of who she is. Instead this play focuses on the ways that Vi's identity is complicated by the world around her. Even if she knows exactly who she is, the rest of the world still isn't sure how to react to or engage with her, and it is the confusion of others that makes her life (and especially her parents' lives) complicated. Vi's parents Pilar and Bird are accepting and amazing, and they try desperately to understand what she needs and how to help - but they fail, and often. The trouble is that instead of "just parenting," they are in transition too: from the grief of navigating losing a son but gaining a daughter; from explaining to friends and colleagues who and what their daughter is and how she should be seen; from raising a child to raising a teenager who is racing towards sexuality in a body that is fully unprepared for it, literally; and from the evolution of their marriage as Vi gets older and their engagement with her and each other necessarily changes.

Photo by Rich Ryan

I want to focus on this conversation about Vi's parents because to me that is the most remarkable part of this show. Vi's story is centered to be sure, and we hear her discuss her feelings with her friend Jacob, her comforting online merperson Crux, and with her own parents. I don't want to discredit the importance of that perspective and that Vi has her own agency: it's crucial to her safety and happiness, and it's a gift that too few people (and characters) get. But the beautiful, gentle, subtle way that Mermaid Hour discusses the nuances around transition (especially for young kids) is really remarkable, and much of this is conducted through Vi's parents. Here's a great example: one of the most devastating side effects of the discrimination towards trans people is their lack of adequate health care - both in it being paid for by insurance, and in having little proven real medical understanding of what trans bodies actually need to thrive. There is so little scientific information about the prolonged effect of sustained hormone therapy, especially on pubescent bodies, that it makes navigating the whole process of transitioning - such as considering regular hormone shots for decades at a time - terrifying for families. Even the most accepting parents have doubts, fears and concerns, and those are real emotions that need to be discussed (aside: for a fabulous discussion of this issue of long-term hormone use for trans people, click here to listen to this excellent podcast - I listened before attending this show and I learned SO. MUCH.). Through great writing and a pair of terrific performances, Pilar and Bird are allowed to express all of their feelings about this process - their grief, their fear, their doubt, their love, their confusion - and it gives such a complex, honest look at this experience that was so refreshing and instructive for me.

Photo by Rich Ryan

And speaking of performances, this show is filled with some really great ones. Thallis Santesteban is gripping as Vi's mother Pilar. She displays such deep emotion that you can't help but be moved, especially towards the end of the show. Michael Hanna plays Bird, and not only is his gorgeous voice is perfect for the part but he matches Santesteban's performance nuance for nuance. They are a great pair with electric chemistry, and perfectly cast. Azoralla Arroyo Caballero is in his first performance on a professional stage, and he nails it. Vi's youth is central to the conversations about her experience, and Caballero's thoughtfully adolescent performance is one more reminder of how amazing this current young generation is. Caballero's nuanced portrayal is a reminder that the societal issues we face about gender and sexual identity aren't problems with people knowing who they are: it's problems with those of us who were raised in a society that pretended they didn't exist in the first place. Helped with this perspective is the magical presence of Catherine Charles Hammond as Crux, Vi's merperson and a crucial mentor to her in her quest for safety and acceptance. Hammond gracefully sings through sparkling numbers, and their quiet but strong performance (replete with terrific advice) at the end of the show will cause you to think deeply. Meng Xiong was new-to-me as Vi's best friend Jacob; watch out, because I think he's about to be one of the newest #tctheater stars. His breakdancing interlude in particular gave me a radiant moment of joy. And Sheena Janson is a musical rockstar as Jacob's mother Mika, her beautiful voice giving so much depth to the songs. Love, love, love them all.

Photo by Rich Ryan

The set, designed by Britton Mauk, is intriguingly hung off the wall of the main stage. This is used surprisingly effectively, and it gives the sense of a busy middle class home while still leaving the stage free for the performers to dance and move quickly. Two vignette stages are broken off in the corners (make sure to get a seat where you can turn around) and give the supporting characters their own time in the spotlight. The costumes by Valerie St. Pierre Smith are simple but do a great job of evoking each character's persona, and the choreography from Movement Director Sarah Lozoff is similarly simple but efficient. The most impressive behind-the-scenes element for me is the work of composer Eric Mayson, who totally invented music for this show,* and Director Leah Anderson, whose comprehensive vision clearly leads Mermaid Hour to a messy, beautiful success - just like real life.

Photo by Rich Ryan

I love shows that make me think, especially those that make me think without making me depressed. Mermaid Hour: Remixed tackles some very tough subjects, but it always does it with love and respect at its core. This clear foundation in empathy and understanding allows the narrative to go so much deeper than it otherwise might. Constellating the main story are a host of other deftly handled and really important conversations, such as allowing youth to own their power (hello there #parklandstudents); changing with your changing marriage; allowing kids a safe place to explore and find acceptance, even if you don't understand it; and so much more. Although this story centers around trans and queer kids, I imagine that many parents could relate to the experiences of Bird and Pilar, and I definitely encourage you to go even if you think it "doesn't apply to you;" I guarantee you'll be surprised at how much you relate.

Photo by Rich Ryan

There seems to be an explosion of plays diving deep into the gender and sexuality spectrum these days, especially around the trans experience. All I can say is amen and keep it going! There is such a need to discuss these issues, not only to normalize them and help make the world a more tolerant place for trans and queer people, but to also provide resources for healthcare needs, mental health support, and better quality of life. We've come leaps and bounds societally in even the last five years, but it's not a fast enough transition to keep trans people from being murdered or discrimination from preventing trans people from freely living their lives. Anything that raises awareness about these issues is vital and necessary, and this beautiful, subtle production of Mermaid Hour: Remixed is perhaps my favorite I've seen of this journey so far. If you're interested (and you should be), click here for more information and to get tickets. Please also make sure to check out some of the other shows that have been cropping up to talk about trans and queer identities; we have such a vibrant LGBTQIA community here and they are doing some incredible work:

• The Resistance of My Skin by Uprising Theater Company
• Cardboard Piano by Park Square Theatre 
• As One by Skylark Opera Theatre 
• The work of Marcel Michelle-Mobama 
• 20% Theater 
• Uprising Theater 

Photo by Rich Ryan

*A word on the music: Mermaid Hour: Remixed is part of a rolling premiere of the play Mermaid Hour, which is concurrently debuting at multiple theaters around the U.S. A rolling premiere means each theater gets more freedom to develop their rendition of a new show through a concurrent world premiere. Of all of the performances of Mermaid Hour currently running, the Mixed Blood rendition is the only version that is being staged as a musical, thanks to the tireless efforts of the Mixed Blood Team. I have to say that after seeing the show this way, I really can't imagine it as a play - the music adds such life to the show, it's really a great way to go. 

The Resistance of My Skin has the Hard Conversations For Us All

One of the biggest buzzwords since the 2016 presidential election has been "resistance"

More people are feeling disenfranchised and activated than ever, which can be a good or bad thing depending on how you look at it. People have energy and they need to channel it somewhere. But what does it really mean to resist?

The Resistance of My Skin, a lovely new play written by and starring Shannon TL Kearns, reshapes the idea of resistance from one of aggression or anger into one of loving acceptance and empathy. It's a beautiful transition that comes just at the right time and couldn't have a better message to send into the world.

On an overly simplistic level, The Resistance of My Skin is simply a dialogue between two budding lovers: Ayden, a transgender man who has not had a sexual partner since his physical transition; and Jess, a fat woman who struggles with self acceptance amidst bad past relationships and societal pressures. There is so much more encased in this show, however, than that one sentence can grasp; just look at this list of subjects that are covered in this brief 70 minute performance:

• Abuse of transgender people as they transition, especially from their partners and families
• An explicit, beautiful, continuous demonstration of the importance and act of proactive consent in sexual encounters
• White privilige within the trans community
• White privilege within the female community
• The practical implications of "bathroom bills" against trans people
• The practical barriers to traditional intercourse with trans people
• Healthcare implications for trans people 
• Healthcare abuse by medical staff towards fat people 
• The idea of reclaiming words like fat into something descriptive and empowering rather than lazy or denigrating
• Pervasive violence (like the Orlando shooting) against the trans community
• Religious "conversion therapy" forced on trans people 
• Fearing violence as a woman
• Sexual violence and abuse against women in relationships
• Generating confidence in yourself 
• The importance of creating and maintaining a truly open dialogue in relationships
• Vulnerability in relationships
• The effect of family members' criticism on your self esteem

And so much more. The effect is the creation of an organic, heartfelt, therapeutic conversation that not only demonstrates the beginnings of a healthy relationship but presents a slew of really difficult, fraught issues to the audience in an empathetic and accessible way. It can be a little off-putting to be told how to believe about an issue, especially when you've been indoctrinated to certain beliefs, but it's a completely different thing to hear someone speak personally and specifically to how those issues directly affect the quality and safety of their lives. Kearns' writing does a great job of navigating that line; if only all of the fraught conversations we are having (or shouting, really) as a nation right now were conducted with the same astute care.

I really enjoyed the performances from Ashley Hovell and Shannon TL Kearns as Jess and Ayden, respectively. They share such a fresh, innate chemistry that sparks off the stage. Their budding romance and genuine interest in each other never feel forced, and they both infuse real feeling into the difficult subjects they discuss. Both start the show in their skivvies and get dressed in front of us, clearly demonstrating the amount of trust and comfort they have in us and each other, and it's a simple but arresting opening. Much attention to detail has been paid by the production team - including Director Shalee Coleman, Stage Manager Allison Knauss, Lighting and Sound Designer Martin Sheeks, and Community Engagement Coordinator Courtney Knoll - and it shows at every level, from the educational pre-show introduction and post-show talk backs to the lighthearted clapping games the actors play to the disheveled bed and "remote controlled" mood lighting in Jess's apartment. The love and good vibes really flowed between everyone involved in the project and it was clear that this was intended to be an inclusive, compassionate space, something that struck me from the second I walked through the door.

A couple pro tips about the space to just help ease your experience: It was my first time seeing a show at the Crane Theater and it was a little hard to find; make note if you haven't been that you need to go to the back (looks like a warehouse parking lot) of the building to get in (a colorful sign stating this facing the street would also be helpful!). Also, wear some good layers - it's a large area and it got a little chilly! This was easily offset by the warm atmosphere presented by all of the people involved, but good to note for future performances.

Overall, I was so impressed by The Resistance of My Skin. It's a great testament to the importance of always trying new things - I'd never been to the Crane Theater or seen a show from Uprising Theatre  Company - and I will most definitely be back. Considering the absolutely heartwrenching events in Florida (this week and two years ago in Orlando) and just the general indignant milieu we seem to be perpetually stewing in as a country these days, there is no better time to immerse yourself in a story between two people who are genuinely interested in - gasp! - actually listening to each other. Jess and Ayden have a lot to learn about each other's respective hurts and experiences, and they make missteps as they talk - but their willingness to grow and really hear each other overpowers what could otherwise easily disintegrate into a brutal shouting match. Bravo to Kearns for a beautiful piece of writing; I hope you keep telling your stories and teaching us more. The Resistance of My Skin opens tonight and runs through February 24. I hope the seats are packed for their short run; I definitely encourage you to check it out by clicking here for info about tickets and the show.

And by the way: if you're interested in learning more about these issues from some truly terrific queer, trans and fat / plus size advocates, here are some great people you can follow: 

• Janet Mock
• Laverne Cox 
• Marcel Michelle-Mobama
• Tess Holliday 
• Lindy West
• Roxane Gay 
• Listen to the Twin Cities Theater Bloggers conversation about sexuality and gender identities in local theater by clicking here