The Tranny Roadshow is a multimedia performance art extravaganza, which toured the country for the second time this past spring. It is composed of an eclectic group of artists, each one self-identified as transgender, and includes poets, rappers, filmmakers, storytellers, breakdancers, rock bands, comedians, actors, folk singers, photographers, zinesters, and more. In addition to the live performance, stationary works of art are on display at the shows.

The show is a fluid entity, changing to suit the artists and the crowd, but it is always full of intelligence, fun and humor. Although the Tranny Roadshow is done entirely by transpeople, it is not exclusively for transpeople. It is a raucous evening of entertainment, open and accessible to people of all backgrounds. Most are experienced performers, and while the goals of the show include challenging people and making them think, the most important goals are to entertain them, make them laugh, and make them dance.

 
Some pieces of each show focus specifically on gender, but many others do not. All people have multiple identities, which overlap, intertwine and impact each other in different ways.  Trans identities are but singular facets of who these performers are. One of the aims of the Tranny Roadshow is to present transpeople as they are - as multi-faceted people who also just happen to be transgender. They are not only trannies, they are singers, filmmakers, dancers, writers, jugglers, etc. and their art expresses many things, of which gender is only one. During the show, the performers present a wide spectrum of gender identities, a brilliant array of living art, and the ties that bind these identities to their artwork and to the world.

The Tranny Roadshow was a dream made reality by Jamez Terry and Kelly Shortandqueer.  Dramanonymous.com was fortunate enough to have Mr. Terry share with us, in his own words, the inspirations for the Tranny Roadshow, reflections on the 2006 tour and some personal anecdotes from life on the Road.

            It was our first performance, the culmination of a year’s worth of work and worry and dreams.  I told myself that, if things went well, I might actually sleep that night.  Performers took the stage, one by one, as I nervously paced the back of the room.  Halfway through the show, I could take it no longer.  I stepped outside and called my girlfriend: “The show is amazing!  Everybody is so, so good!”  Over the laughter and applause from inside, I heard her laugh at me: “Am I supposed to be surprised?”

The Tranny Roadshow brings together all of my favorite things - travel, performance art, zines, and queer/transgender activism - but that should come as no surprise.  The Roadshow is a realization of my dreams.  In the fall of 2004, I decided that I wanted more performance opportunities in my life.  Instead of seeking existing venues, I imagined the show that I wanted to be in, and then I made it happen.  The dream was bigger than just me; I wanted to do something important.  I wanted a show that would mix education with entertainment, make transgender issues more fun and less intellectual, build bridges between marginalized communities, and concentrate on transpeople without focusing solely on our genders. 

Knowing that this was more than I could accomplish alone, I called my best friend.  Like me, Kelly Shortandqueer identifies as transgender and is an experienced organizer.  I pitched the Tranny Roadshow and he was sold immediately.  We began the planning that week.  It was a rather haphazard process.  Neither of us had toured before, nor had we ever booked a show of any kind.  Kelly had never really even performed.  Still, it never occurred to us that we couldn’t do it.  We took advice where we could get it, made things up as we went along, and somehow we pulled it off.  We crossed the country, dipping and weaving in irregular loops to hit small towns as well as larger cities.  In 66 days, we did 47 shows, putting 41 transgender performance artists on stage in front of a total of over 4,000 audience members.  Not long after it ended, we began planning for the 2006 tour.  Our first tour was successful, but we had also learned a lot. We were ready to use the things we learned in order to create a bigger, better show the next time around.

The Roadshow is presented in variety show format.  Over the last two years, we have featured a wide array of spoken word performances, musical acts, short films, excerpts from plays, and other forms of performance art less easily classified.  Some of the acts revolve around gender and/or identity, while others seem to ignore the subject completely.  As organizers, our mantra has always been that our transgender identities are singular facets of who we are, and the Tranny Roadshow aims to present transpeople as whole, multi-faceted people.  The show is designed to educate and empower, but its primary goal is to entertain.  If entertainment can change people’s lives, so much the better.

For instance, Scott Turner Schofield’s take on attending debutante balls as a poor, queer, undercover transguy exemplifies humor that has an important message.  Faced with applying his own makeup for the first time at age 21, he finds his salvation at the CVS makeup counter, where he meets Betsy, a 79-year old native South Carolinian. He is forced to navigate a conversation about makeup that begins with  “Son, how may I help you?” and includes emergency announcements over the store’s loudspeakers. Just as importantly, the humor is able to withstand repetition. Even after seeing the show nearly every night for a month, I never stopped finding it funny. Like many showgoers, I couldn’t stop repeating the catchy refrain from Citizen Rahne’s token bathroom song: “If I hit the ladies’ room, I’ll be arrested/ And if I hit the men’s room I’ll be molested/ God oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god I really gotta pee/ Why does all this bad shit happen to me?”  Even my own performance piece did not grow stale after a month of recitation.  It will never stop being funny (and weird) that my Grampa offered to let me have me his penis when he died.  Fortunately medical science has not yet made that possible.  Whew!

Often the show’s humor was totally unintentional. As our first show was about to begin, a year’s worth of worries and dreams were making my head spin.  I stood to the side, ready to emcee the show, all of the performers standing nearby.  Relative strangers, not yet made close by a month packed into a van together, we smiled at one another anyway, nervous and hopeful.  The rural collegiate audience sat and listened as a student introduced the evening’s performance.  She spoke about how great it was to have us there, saying,  “I mean, where else can you find seven transvestites all in one place?”  We stared at each other, our eyes huge.  How could I possibly follow that introduction? The room went silent, everyone painfully aware of the faux pas that had just been made.  Someone whispered to the poor girl on stage, “transgender,” and she corrected herself, trying to turn it into a joke, trying desperately not to offend.  There was a collective sigh of relief, I took the stage, and the Tranny Roadshow was off and running once again. 

Ultimately, this was little more than an awkward moment, but it was a reminder of why more education about transpeople is needed.  It was fuel for our fire, and it gave us a new joke to throw into later shows.  But, in the meantime, I had to get through this show.   I was seeing this collection of performers for the first time, but I couldn’t really focus on the performances, and I still wasn’t breathing - until about halfway through the show, when I realized that it was working.  Everything was going to be okay.  A year’s worth of worry lifted off my shoulders, and I could finally let myself feel the excitement.  I stepped outside to call my girlfriend, who was not the least bit surprised to hear that everybody was amazing and that the Roadshow was going to be so, so good.

The Tranny Roadshow plans to tour the western United States in 2007. Don't miss this show!