Talking Funny

When I was younger I always got made fun of for the way I spoke. I sounded squeaky. The words I used were too big. The my tone was too high. It was just another stone mean kids threw. Nevermind I struggled with my weight. My mother also dressed me. I had cystic acne. Things were not going well. What I had going for me were my dreams, my love of writing, my love of creativity, and my skill to nose dive no matter how much of a fool it made me look.

When college came around, I was in New York. I asked someone for a gumband. In Pittsburgh, we say gumbands and mean rubber bands. So I asked for a gumband. These kids who were weaned on Prozac with doctor parents and went to private schools laughed at me. They didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. I already hated the way I talked and felt like a redneck who had hopelessly wandered into a Metropolis. Then there was the incident in the speech class where my sounds were hopelessly being corrected. That is when one of my teachers who was from Pittsburgh said, “It’s your accent coming out.”

The kids in my class said, “April isnt just weird.”

“No,” My teacher explained. “There is a whole city of people who talk just like this.” Awestruck and fascinated, my classmates went to a website where regional dialects were listed. That semester, our section at The Lee Strasberg Institute became obsessed with my accent and my slanguage. For the first time ever, I was alright with the way I talked.

The serenity would be short lived. During my junior year, I managed to get into a relationship with someone that was abusive. I have written about him. He made me give up my puppets and that was just the tip of the iceberg. When things were heating up between us, I was set to hang out with his friends. We were sipping coffee at Starbucks and my ex said, “When you hang out with my friends, just…..play it cool.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked confused.

“Look, my friends don’t like the way you talk.”

“What?”

“Yeah, they say you sound like a chipmunk.” My confidence was shot. It was an arrow. My ex wasn’t defending me against his friends and now I had to compromise. I sent the session with him and his boys silent as a mime. I soon tried to change the way I talked which just made me feel like a fraud. I swore a lot which made me feel fake. I tried to drop my voice which made me feel like a man. It didn’t work. I became a phony mute about a lot of things, like the extent of the abuse I was facing. I don’t know what was worse about that part of my life, the fact I had to endure it or the fact I chose to put up with it.

When the relationship ended, I was left a self-loathing mess. I remember doing a set where someone told me the way I spoke was distinct. I thought it was their way of saying annoying. When my ex and his friends began their relentless campaign of harassment, one thing they aimed at was the way I spoke. I remember thinking that I was smarter and better than they were, and one day I had the guts to realize it and that’s how I was able to escape. That is when I realized I had let him take away my sense of self-worth. The way I spoke was okay. It was alright. And anyone who didn’t like it could go to hell.

Slowly I began to embrace the way I spoke. It not only became a part of the new, confident me. As I became more confident in my speaking voice, my singing voice began to take a better shape. Granted, it was always it’s own animal, but I better understood how to make it more pleasing to the ear. I wasn’t afraid of what people would say about me. If they didn’t like the way I spoke we didn’t have to be friends, plain and simple.

This past winter/spring Metrophonic and Mercy Sound became a second home to me. My old college classmate and sound engineer Archie Ekong explained my fans would want to hear me reading my book. Archie told me it would have a unique flavor with me narrating. Then he said, “April, you are the only one with your voice. It’s pretty distinct.”

“Yeah, that’s what people tell me. I don’t think I will get away with prank calling anyone soon.” I said.

Archie looked at me dead in the eye and said, “No.” And we both burst out laughing. At that moment I realized that it was pretty cool that I was the only one who spoke like I did.

These past few years have also seen success not only in the realms of writing but also comedy getting me television time. Sometimes fans recognize me when armed with my puppets. Other times, I will get recognized by the way I speak. The other day, I was at a meeting for a pilot I am shooting. We were deeply emerged in a discussion when the waitress came over. She asked me, “Excuse me, I have a question for you.”

“Yes.” I asked.

“Are you a comedian?”

“Yes.”

“The guy who works with you in the back thinks he saw you on TV.” My jaw dropped open. He was in the back. There was no way in hell he could have seen me.

“How did he know it was me?” I asked.

“Oh, he recognized your voice and says you are very funny.” She replied. My jaw dropped open. This was awesome!!!! I made a new fan and friend. Something like this is double awesome when it happens at a pilot pitch meeting. My co-host and co-producer thought it was pretty cool as well.

Later that evening, I was running errands and heard two kids talking. They were taking fun of this young woman in their class at school and the way she spoke. These two mean girls mimicked her. It made me think of some of the people who gave me the same “star treatment” back in the day that now have the audacity to write me a facebook letter to congratulate me when things go well with the career. Actually, it was disgusting as it brought back a flood of hellacious memories.

Then I passed the theatre where Kinky Boots played. I remember when Cyndi Lauper did an interview where she spoke about being bullied for the way she spoke and dressed. She remarked in her Betty Boop-eque twang, “They used to throw rocks at me for my clothes, now they want to know where I get them.”

For the longest time my voice was like Rudolph’s nose. People made fun of me for having it, now it part of the package that is beginning to make me successful. Cyndi Lauper’s, it is part of the package that has made her a legend. Hopefully the young lady they were making fun of will just realize that those two are idiots who need to be ignored and won’t feed in.

Hopefully she won’t care and will always use her voice.

Love

April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

www.aprilbrucker.com 

Dreaming is Free (Blondie)

When I was thirteen I was at the end of my rope. School was hellacious. I got made fun of all the time. Between a weight problem and an acne problem I was a mess. At the time I was on this face medication that made my lips bleed. I tried wearing make up to sexy myself up. My blush was orange and my lipstick was more or less purple. I looked like a pumpkin. On top of that I wore this water proof mascara because at the time I was embarking on a failed career as a diver. Well I was not only a horrendous diver, move over Shamu, but I was allergic to water proof mascara. So my eyes swelled shut. Did I mention my mother picked my clothes? On top of that I had top and bottom braces with rubber bands, or gum bands as we call them in Pittsburgh.

I had bullseye all over my forehead.

School was a nightmare and I didn't want to go. I wasn't skinny and pretty like the popular girls. The guys didn't want me. If they asked me out it was as a joke.

Then my family got cable television. To make a long story short I was from a family of readers and educators. My dad was the first of seven, the first to get a college degree and the first to not only get an MBA but also to go to law school as well. His father had been a steel worker who had not graduated from high school, but when my dad was older went to school at night to obtain his GED in order to get a promotion. It was an odd father/son bonding moment but they did it. My dad was big on education because he had grown up poor and realized life without it sucked and made you a slave. My mom was a teacher and told us to aim high, as in Ivy League. So the week was reserved for reading and homework, and the weekends television. We didn't have cable because we were not big television waters. But when Friday came, it was television time.

My friends all had cable and were on the up and up with the MTV. My brother, sister and I, in the damn darkness. On a bus once we were talking and the subject of Coolio came up. I didn't know who or what a Coolio was and needless to say that ended in a barrage of terrible jokes.

But my brother Wendell was embarking on a football career and my dad wanted to watch the high school games. This required getting local cable. To get the local channel this involved getting thirty others. Finally we had cable. I had arrived. Yeehaw!

Immediately I became addicted to MTV. The pop culture on the screen, the musicians and the actors, opened my mind up. I wasnt as academic as my siblings Skipper and Wendell. I was more creative. These artists spoke to me. They were creative, thought out of the box, and were changing the world. When they spoke about school they all talked about how they were awkward and made fun of. This seemed to be a theme. I was creative, awkward, and made fun of. Suddenly I had a plan and a goal. I wanted to go to New York, to entertain people, and to change the world. While it sounds cheesy, MTV saved my life and my sanity during those terrible, crucial years.

As a part of this package we also got AMC. On the screen I saw Mae West, my idol and my hero. She had come into vogue during the flapper era, a decade of tall and willowy women. She was short and curvy. Mae West broke the mold by writing pieces for herself. She pushed the boundaries, going so far as to go to jail. She was an inspiration to an adolescent struggling with her weight in a place where different meant deadly. I suddenly didn't feel this stifling need to conform. Instead, I felt like different didn't make me wrong, but rather it made me right and special. I didn't have to be like the pretty popular girls. They weren't better than me, I was better than them.

From there I had a mission. I practiced in front of my mirror to death with my Groucho Marx figure. My parents worried about my loner ways, meanwhile I dreamed of a career as the next Edgar Bergen. I brought home ribbons in forensics as a master storyteller. I wrote stories and eventually got published in a local paper. I took acting classes and volunteered as well as produced a show on public access. I was on my way. So much so I just started a bunch of sentences with the  pronound "I".

I went on to move to New York City, and was even featured on F'in MTV Blocks. In addition, my puppet children and I have been on TV and we are beginning to fulfill our mission of reaching people. The producer for my audio book was exchanging emails with Naughty By Nature, a band I wasnt allowed to watch when they came on the TV. Lauryn Hill's former sound engineer stole my book. I had a convo with Deborah Harry. I live down the street from Broadway. I am writing a damn musical. People have recognized my puppet children and I and often ask for photos. A song I recorded was number one on internet radio for five weeks. Essentially I am doing every thing I set out to do. This is just the beginning.

I have been thinking about all the people who have made my life hellacious lately. It is because I receive a large number of fan letters from young people. Many are bullied. Bullying is an epidemic in this country and people are only beginning to understand the long standing psychological trauma associated with it now. One kid was even beaten into a coma by kids on a school yard. One recently sent me a letter that she was at the end of her rope and she needed hope.

So I posted something to this effect on facebook and this is what I would say to anyone. Growing up I wasn't allowed to watch cable television and everyone laughed at me. Now I am on cable television quite a bit as well as Netflix with my puppet babies, and hell I still don't own a TV. Because I wasn't allowed to watch television, I got good with making dolls talk and I developed an ability to write. Both are making me quite famous and quite successful. Kids made fun of me because I accidentally called the Notorious B.I.G. The Notorious Big. A year ago I hung out with one of this closest friends. I thought Snoop Dogg was a brand of kennel food and not only did he give me a pep talk when we met but he took my card. I thought a Fugee was a cold virus and Lauryn Hill's former sound engineer stole my book and is reading it. I watched a Deborah Harry rerun and I spoke to her in the hall. I not only walk passed MTV every day, but I have been on there. I walk passed Broadway every day, and I will be on there. I walk passed the Today Show every day with the people gathering at the front and smile because I know I have been on that show too. As for the mean girls they all got fat. As for the guys who asked me out as a joke, joke is on them. Maybe they laughed at me, but now they wish they had my life. I am getting the last laugh. So hang in there. It does get better.

Someone wrote me a sweet note back about how I shouldn't let people drag me down from my past and that there was no need to prove myself. And people over the years have also told me that junior high sucks for everyone.

But I would tell any kid in that place to just hang in there. Every dog has their day and their day will come. It does get better as I said. Now I only wish I could time travel and tell my thirteen year old self that. I wish I could show her my life now and give her a hug. Maybe that is why bullies make me sick and when I see that side of a guy he becomes so unattractive. Maybe that is why I stand by my friends, even when they do things like get arrested, because I know what it's like to be kicked by the world. Maybe that's why I don't exclude anyone. I know my thirteen year old self wouldn't believe it. She would tell me about her dreams, and I would tell her they would come true but she would have to work very hard.

Then she would ask me if I had any money. I would tell her, "Working on that."

Sigh, my bank account doesn't know I hang out with famous people. My bank account doesn't know who I hang out with. My bank account says I still need to save up for a TV and a bed.

But living the dream. And with the price of the suffering we go through, at least dreaming is free.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback, 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.com
Ebook Kindle and Nook
Portion of the proceeds go to RAINN

Teaching Moments

This past week a friend of mine Melanie, who happens to be transgendered, made me think. After an adventure where I visited a close friend in Union Square and saw a trans woman who I believe was working as a prostitute with her frightening looking pimp in the Dunkin Donuts. Since the element of people were getting shady my friend and I left. In between fright and awe I made a glib remark on facebook that I thought was funny.

I got a few likes and that’s when Melanie came down on the thread like white on rice in a snowstorm on a paper plate challenging my perceptions. I did not know for a fact the woman was going to work as a prostitute. Even if she was who was I to judge her? Unfortunately trans people don’t exist on paper. While the state of NYC is making it easier to change the birth certificates it is still a long drawn out process therefore these people are pushed into the sex trade often against their own will and are often the subject of violence because sometimes they have to conceal their true gender identity such as Venus Xtravanganza of Paris is Burning.

Then a fan letter from a trans woman I received came flooding back to me. A few months back I had a transman on my show at the inception of Confessions on YouNow.com. This transwoman wrote me afterward thanking me for giving people like her “a voice.” She told me because she was trans, male biologically but female identified, she has been subject to verbal and physical harassment as well as violence. This fan letter not only brought tears to my eyes because not only did this woman reach out to me in a beautiful way, but also because people have made her life a nightmare because she lives in a world that often tells her there is no place for her. While she tells me her life has gotten better I know it was a long, dark journey into the woods to get to the end of the rainbow.

Then I thought of my own buttons and own triggers. This past year I was blessed to be on TV quite a bit. While he was the subject of a comedy act that has never failed me, for the first time in a long time I spoke about the verbal and physical abuse I suffered at the hands of my ex fiancé. I spoke about how he wanted to rob me of my ventriloquism, my family and everything that made me happy so he could have me to himself. After we broke up he started stalking me. The stalking was so terrible I wore running shoes in case he would make an appearance wherever I was. My mother kept his name on the refrigerator in case I disappeared. That is just the tip of the iceberg.

As a result of me being on TV and speaking about this I received fan letters from young people who have been bullied and young women who escaped abusive relationships as well as those trying to get out. What broke my heart was when one woman claimed she deserved this. For years certain rap songs with the lyrics “Smack up my bitch” drove me up the wall as well as songs where men spoke about women as sexual objects cutting them down. Not to mention jokes with punchlines like, “The bitch has two black eyes because you told her twice” made me want to hit the person back. It’s not because I was a tightwad with no sense of humor, it’s because I knew what those jokes perpetuated and I knew how harmful that behavior could be to people just as Delaney and many trans folk know how certain jokes can be hurtful and encourage harmful behavior as well.

A few months back I was on a radio show where the hosts joked about a guy who broke up with a girl and went so far as to post her number online telling everyone she was giving away free sex and even put her address up. The male hosts baptized him “the best guy ever” and talked about “how he ruled” and how “this bitch must have deserved it.” Meanwhile my ex had done something similar, putting a photo of me up online that I sent him in a bikini and wrote “Easy Slut” over it. I did nothing to this man except break off an abusive relationship and beg him to get the help he needed. I tried to speak up but after a few minutes gave in to the straight, white male privileged agenda. However that bothered me so much that when they asked me to come back to the show I couldn’t do it. Part of it was that I would just make myself angry, but the other part of it was that I was ashamed for not sticking up for that young woman.

However I would soon get my chance to have plenty of teaching moments as far as the subject went. I am not only a show host on YouNow.com but a regular broadcaster with these folks. On the site I interface with a lot of people, young people, from all over the world. I have spoken several times about being a survivor of dating violence and how it isn’t just an issue for young straight people but people of any gender, orientation and nationality. To my pleasant surprise not only do these young people get it but have written to me with their experiences.

Sometimes though, we get a few young ones on YouNow who use the “f” word in reference to gay people and make other homophobic remarks about how gay people deserved to be bashed. After seeing this a few times I decided to speak up and told these young offenders why such language was not only wrong but harmful. I talked about a friend of mine who was jumped by four men in his neighborhood because he was gay and one had a knife. My buddy tried to fight back and got away but he had a scar of his cheek as a result of the knife fight. Although he always wore cover up the scar remained. Roger only told me the story once but never told it again. Bottom line, saying gays deserved to be punched lets some wayward soul lets some wayward soul believe the abhorrent behavior is okay. I knew sharing the story could get these kids to turn on me. Drenched in disgust I was okay with that.

To my pleasant surprise the majority of the young people verbally lambasted the hateful hater and his buddy in the chat. Many of the youthful broadcasters that evening got on camera not only to back up what I was saying but also to let this person know that everyone deserved to have rights no matter who they were and that physical and verbal assault on a person regardless of their sexual orientation was NOT OKAY! It was not only a welcome relief but lead me to believe that this past year I have been given the exposure and platforms I have not only to entertain but to educate and speak up.

This let me know that perhaps I had to speak up more. I now crack down on people for any sort of hate speech in the chat as well as during their broadcasts. This is hate speech directed at women, minorities or anyone telling people to “smack a bitch.” To my surprise these kids have listened to me. While I could get on a soapbox and toot my horn which I am in effect doing now it reminded me that it only takes one person to speak up and to change things making the world a safer place for others.

My poppyseeds, as I have nicknamed my young fans, have written to me on various occasions for advice whether on mundane dating problems or more severe issues facing young people.  It is not only flattering that they reached out to me, but a blessing that they consider me a role model. I have also received countless letters this year from lots of young people and not only do I love hearing about my young fans but also like to know that I am helping people. Whether it’s letting someone know that even though they are being bullied for being different it gets better. Or letting that person know who was a victim of dating violence that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Or better yet, a trans person who saw my show and was thankful someone like myself gave someone like them a safe, welcoming place to show the world that they weren’t some freakish being but a person like everyone else.  Bottom line, my job has become much bigger than telling a few jokes and entertaining.

Now I know I am doing the right thing by speaking up and letting people know what is and isn’t okay. Every once in a while I have to tell people even joking about dating violence isn’t okay and that it is an issue for anyone regardless of orientation, gender or race. I have to remind people words and slurs are hurtful and encourage not only harassment of marginalized groups. Will I lose friends? Perhaps. Along my travels I already lost a few but at the same time have gained many true supporters and fans. Then again, as I recall not everyone liked Nelson Mandella for speaking up. That’s why they threw him in jail.

If at the end of the day someone calls me a “militant feminist” because I come down on deadbeats who abuse women so be it. If someone calls me sensitive because I lambast someone for homophobia, transphobia, racism or any other form of hate speech so be it. It lets me know I am doing the right thing and am making the world a better place. If that makes me crazy to some people oh well. There is not a reward for doing the right thing only knowing that you did it.

Oh and watch my show Confessions this Sunday night from 8-10 pm EST on younow.com’s talk 2 channel. See you there xo April

Pleasantly Surprised

As you all know I host my own show on YouNow.com called Confessions. Last night I invited a friend of mine on who recently went through a gender transition and is now an F to M. Translated, when he was born a biological woman but always identified as a man. I asked Shai to do the show to add a little depth to things. Thus far the show has been a lot of tawdry sex stories and I wanted to mix it up by giving someone who truly had something to say a true platform. And that person would be Shai.

To give you a little background on my friendship with Shai I knew him when he was living as a woman. I remember him being unhappy as he struggled finding himself. I remember him also suffering with bouts of severe depression. During that point in our friendship I would worry about him. I knew him to be a butch lesbian at the time though and thought perhaps he, well rather she at this point, was going through a rough spot. It was however when he came out as trans and asked to be referred to as male pronouns that it all clicked. The word trans has only entered our vocabulary in the last decade or so and even still we are struggling to understand it. I do believe nature makes mistakes and unfortunately sometimes people can be born in the wrong body.

Over the past year I had seen Shai transform into a strapping young man. As I witnessed this I thought perhaps I should make my show a platform for some activism. That’s when I asked him to be on.

Truth be told after I asked I felt a flinch in my stomach. Being the Mama Foxxx of Confessions I know we get people from all over in the chat on YouNow. While Adi Sideman and company are good about manning it, it just takes one moron to make someone feel unwelcome forever. I was ready to play Ninja though. The way my chat works is that there is no racism, anti-Semitism, homophobia, transphobia, or weightism of any kind. If I see that the person is reported and they are banned. But with the advent of a trans-person what would the reaction be? Would there be an onslaught of this? I was prepared.

When Shai came on his mic wasn’t working. It looked like they were going to vote him off. Oh no, this was already going to be a disaster. However once the mic began working Shai started talking. That’s when the people in the chat pleasantly surprised me. They asked intelligent questions about Shai’s transition as well as his taking of testosterone as well as the surgery required to reassign one’s gender. In addition they also wanted to know more about Shai’s life and skills. Very confidently, in a deep male voice, he informed them that he could beat box and rap. He rapped a little for us, told us about his welding and his parakeet sat on his shoulder the entire time. The audience responded in turn with love and support not only for his bravery to tell his story but for his courage to be himself. I was pleasantly surprised at this. Not only was I proud of my friend Shai for finding happiness and taking perhaps one of the biggest risks one can take to do it, but also for my friends and fans on the younow chat for being supportive, inquisitive, respectful and tolerant. I would have to say I was so pleasantly surprised I almost cried. And even better the audience not only did not want Shai to go but they want him back every week!

My only regret was having to bump him out after a while. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to hear more about his new life or transition which were very fascinating but unfortunately there were five more people waiting to go live, I had started late, and as host it is unfortunately my job to keep things moving. And unfortunately that means being the bad guy. But if any one of my broadcasters took a risk last night it was Shai, and he taught us all a little something about what it truly takes to be brave.

This morning I kept thinking why I was drawn so much to activism and giving people like Shai a platform to do it. The answer was, not only was I bullied as a child but also went through the nightmare of an abusive relationship as an adult. And the reason I am so sympathetic to LGBTQ causes is that the friends who got me through that time in my life were mostly gay. They cooked for me, did my hair, and gave me the smack in the head I needed. Because of those experiences not only don’t I like to see people bullied in any way but will give anyone a platform for any sort of activism, especially LGBTQ people.

I also thought about what a wonderful new network YouNow is. Adi Sideman and Robert Galinsky have gone out of their way to make it safe and welcoming for anyone of any walk of life, ethnic background, sexual orientation or faith. In essence perhaps we have created an internet utopia.

As for Shai, I am pleased to call you my friend and best of luck on your journey to becoming the man you always dreamed of being. You now have a new set of friends and family members at younow.com who want you to come back every week. Xo April