But the hardest wave he ever faced wasn’t in the water—it was the day his mother drove away, leaving him alone with nothing but a choice: sink under the weight of his circumstances or fight his way to the surface.

In this powerful episode of Untold Stories, Fenton shares his journey from abandonment to the battlefield, from fear to resilience. With humor, vulnerability, and the hard-earned wisdom of someone who has stood on the edge, he reminds us that while we can’t control the waves, we can always adjust our sails.

Untold Stories is produced live on stage by the Florida Theatre, and the radio show and podcast is produced by WJCT Public Media and the Florida Theatre. Behind every episode of 'Untold Stories,' artistic director Barbara Colaciello from BAB'S LAB is the creative force, carefully curating stories, mentoring the storytellers, and masterfully hosting the events.

In this deeply moving episode of Untold Stories, Linda shares how she faced not one, but multiple cancer diagnoses, each time navigating with resilience, humor, and the unwavering support of her soulmate. From the toughest moments of grief to the absurdity of planning for death (and prematurely parting with a few personal belongings), Linda finds strength in the unexpected.

Untold Stories is produced live on stage by the Florida Theatre, and the radio show and podcast is produced by WJCT Public Media and the Florida Theatre. Behind every episode of 'Untold Stories,' artistic director Barbara Colaciello from BAB'S LAB is the creative force, carefully curating stories, mentoring the storytellers, and masterfully hosting the events.

In this episode of Untold Stories, Melanye shares her journey from an uncertain student to a thriving business owner, from a massage therapist to a birth coach. Along the way, she navigates personal losses, the weight of responsibility, and the profound moments that make up a life well-lived. Through healing hands, an unexpected mentor, and the quiet guidance of a beloved pet, Melanye finds herself exactly where she’s meant to be.

As she stands in the delivery room, witnessing new life enter the world, she realizes something: sometimes, the most powerful transformations happen when we simply follow where life leads.

Untold Stories is a live storytelling event. Each performance features five local storytellers from all walks of life telling personal and transformative tales from their own lived experiences.

Each performance is based on a theme, and they all connect back to the culture of Northeast Florida. Untold Stories is not an open mic night, but a theatrical event curated by Artistic Director Barbara Colaciello. Each story performance is carefully crafted, and with the addition of a musical guest, each evening is akin to a series of mini-plays on a theme, taking you on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, from laughter and tears to introspection and inspiration. The live Untold Stories series is recorded for a podcast hosted by WJCT Public Media.

In this deeply personal and poignant episode of Untold Stories, Madalina shares her journey as an immigrant navigating academia, battling illness, and redefining resilience. With unwavering humor and vulnerability, she reflects on friendships that fortified her, losses that reshaped her, and the courage it takes to rebuild after life’s hardest knocks.

As she stands before us today—healthy, accomplished, and an American citizen—she leaves us with a powerful question: What will you do when the waves of life pull you under?

In this episode of Untold Stories, John shares the moments that shaped him—from childhood survival to entrepreneurial triumph, devastating loss, and finally, a shift that changed everything. With humor, honesty, and hard-won wisdom, he reveals how he moved from a life ruled by achievement to one grounded in connection, love, and lasting impact.

Untold Stories is a live storytelling event. Each performance features five local storytellers from all walks of life telling personal and transformative tales from their own lived experiences.

Each performance is based on a theme, and they all connect back to the culture of Northeast Florida. Untold Stories is not an open mic night, but a theatrical event curated by Artistic Director Barbara Colaciello. Each story performance is carefully crafted, and with the addition of a musical guest, each evening is akin to a series of mini-plays on a theme, taking you on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, from laughter and tears to introspection and inspiration. The live Untold Stories series is recorded for a podcast hosted by WJCT Public Media.

Augustus Wolfe Barnas is a multi-disciplinary artist pursuing job stability and happiness. He spends much of his time bartending on Main and Forsyth, making amazing cocktails for bankers. Whenever he is off work, he writes music with the band Nine Thousand Dog Attack/Wet Embarrassment. These projects explore the depth of hardcore and the joy of living.

Untold Stories is a live storytelling event. Each performance features five local storytellers from all walks of life telling personal and transformative tales from their own lived experiences.

Each performance is based on a theme, and they all connect back to the culture of Northeast Florida. Untold Stories is not an open mic night, but a theatrical event curated by Artistic Director Barbara Colaciello. Each story performance is carefully crafted, and with the addition of a musical guest, each evening is akin to a series of mini-plays on a theme, taking you on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, from laughter and tears to introspection and inspiration. The live Untold Stories series is recorded for a podcast hosted by WJCT Public Media.

In this episode of Untold Stories, Jaiquan Tyre transports us to the sweltering summer days of his youth in Jacksonville, Florida. Through vivid memories, he explores the balance between light and darkness, the joy of childhood imagination, and the poignant reality of loss. With a powerful spoken word performance, Jaquan unearths the resilience born from growing up in a challenging environment and the eventual growth that comes from facing fear and pain. His journey from a shy child to an artist finding his voice reflects the deep connection between life, art, and healing.

Untold Stories is produced live on stage by the Florida Theatre, and the radio show and podcast is produced by WJCT Public Media and the Florida Theatre.

Barbara Colaciello is the artistic director. The 2022-2023 season of Untold Stories at the Florida Theatre is made possible in part through the generous support of the Wolfburg family.

He shares how an unexpected pandemic, personal challenges, and a heartbreaking career setback led him to rediscover his purpose. From nearly giving up on his dreams to finding new meaning through teaching and art, Tony’s story is one of resilience, self-realization, and the power of letting go to embrace the life waiting for you.

Untold Stories is produced live on stage by the Florida Theatre, and the radio show and podcast is produced by WJCT Public Media and the Florida Theatre.

Barbara Colaciello is the artistic director. The 2022-2023 season of Untold Stories at the Florida Theatre is made possible in part through the generous support of the Wolfburg family.

The live recordings of Untold Stories were made by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield. Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre.

WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.

The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.

To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here.

From navigating waist-high grass in high heels to overcoming her fears of snakes and bugs, Renee humorously recounts the challenges she faced in an impromptu rescue mission. With sharp wit, she reflects on her personality—caring deeply and always embracing difficult situations—and how it shaped this quirky adventure. Ultimately, Renee’s story leaves us with a message about staying true to who we are, no matter the challenges.

Untold Stories is a production of the historic Florida Theatre.

Barbara Colaciello is the Artistic Director and the host of the show. Numa Saisselin is the President of the Florida Theatre.

The live recordings of Untold Stories were made by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield. Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre.

WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.

The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.

To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here.

Untold Stories is a production of the historic Florida Theatre.
Barbara Colaciello is the Artistic Director and the host of the show. Numa Saisselin is the President of the Florida Theatre.

The live recordings of Untold Stories were made by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield. Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre.

WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.

The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.

To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here.

Amaris DeLeon takes us on an emotional journey from her tumultuous childhood to finding a sense of belonging at the University of North Florida. Amaris's story begins with a hot and silent car ride, a symbol of the strained relationship with her mother and the hardships she faced growing up. As she navigates her way through academic achievements and the challenges of living in an abusive home, Amaris finds hope and community in UNF's Interfaith Center.

Her tale is one of resilience as she battles through personal trauma, the loss of academic scholarships, and the struggle to continue her education. With the support of her interfaith community, Amaris learns that home is not just a physical space but a supportive network of people who believe in her.

This episode is a testament to the power of community, the importance of diversity, and the courage it takes to forge a path to a brighter future despite the obstacles that stand in the way. Tune in to hear Amaris's inspiring story of transformation and the lessons she learned along the way.

Untold Stories is a production of the historic Florida Theatre.
Barbara Colaciello is the Artistic Director and the host of the show. Numa Saisselin is the President of the Florida Theatre.

The live recordings of Untold Stories were made by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield. Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre.

WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.

The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.

To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here.

Untold Stories is a production of the historic Florida Theatre.
Barbara Colaciello is the Artistic Director and the host of the show. Numa Saisselin is the President of the Florida Theatre.

The live recordings of Untold Stories were made by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield. Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre.

WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.

The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.

To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here.

Adam shares how he turned setbacks into opportunities, eventually winning the 48 Hour Film Project and securing a role as Jacksonville’s first Film Production Coordinator. His story is one of resilience, creativity, and the power of community support. This episode offers listeners an inspiring look at how determination and collaboration can transform dreams into reality, making it a must-listen for anyone pursuing a creative path.

Untold Stories is a production of the historic Florida Theatre.
Barbara Colaciello is the Artistic Director and the host of the show. Numa Saisselin is the President of the Florida Theatre.

Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield made the live recordings of Untold Stories. Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre.

WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.

The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.

To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here

Aaron recounts his early days working in a small health food store in Atlanta, where he developed a deep knowledge of natural foods and customer care. This experience laid the foundation for the opening of Native Sun in 1997, a store that quickly became known for pioneering organic and non-GMO groceries in Jacksonville.

As Native Sun grew, Aaron faced mounting challenges from national competitors like Whole Foods and the shifting landscape of the natural foods industry. Despite these hurdles, he expanded his business, opening multiple locations across Jacksonville. However, the intense competition and economic pressures ultimately forced him to close all three stores in 2019—a devastating blow.

In an unexpected twist, a conversation with a fellow business owner and support from his father encouraged Aaron to reopen a single location in early 2020. Just as Native Sun was poised for a comeback, the COVID-19 pandemic hit, bringing new obstacles. Yet, Aaron’s commitment to community and his focus on supporting local vendors helped him adapt and succeed in a changing world.

Aaron's story is a testament to perseverance and the importance of staying true to one's values. Through his candid and heartfelt storytelling, Aaron invites listeners to reflect on their own journeys and the impact of their choices on the local community.

Untold Stories is a production of the historic Florida Theatre.
Barbara Colaciello is the Artistic Director and the host of the show. Numa Saisselin is the President of the Florida Theatre.

Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield made the live recordings of Untold Stories. Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre.

WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.

The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.

To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here.

Mike's story takes us through the immediate aftermath of the accident, the life-saving surgeries, and the supportive environment provided by his family, especially his mother. As he navigates his recovery, Mike reflects on the kindness of his coworkers and the life lessons he learned along the way. His narrative also explores the importance of community and the unexpected paths life can take, including karaoke on a cruise ship and reconnecting with his college fraternity memories. This episode is a testament to human resilience and the power of positive thinking in the face of adversity.

Untold Stories is a production of the historic Florida Theatre.
Barbara Colaciello is the Artistic Director and the host of the show.
Numa Saisselin is the President of the Florida Theatre.
The live recordings of Untold Stories were made by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield.
May 2024 musical performance is by Krishna Acath.
Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre. WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.
The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.
To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here.

Mary's story is filled with significant milestones, including becoming a CEO while managing motherhood and enduring the trials of a challenging job market during COVID-19. Her resilience shines through as she continuously reinvents herself, most recently attempting to tutor young students. Despite the setbacks, Mary’s humor and tenacity reveal a woman who never stops striving for more, embracing new opportunities, and inspiring others with her bold life choices.

Listeners will be captivated by Mary’s candid recounting of her life, her career shifts, and her unyielding spirit in the face of adversity. Her journey underscores the importance of adaptability, continuous learning, and the courage to pursue one’s passions at any age. Tune in for a relatable and inspiring story, offering a glimpse into the life of a woman who refuses to be defined by a single role or moment.

Untold Stories is a production of the historic Florida Theatre.
Barbara Colaciello is the Artistic Director and the host of the show. Numa Saisselin is the President of the Florida Theatre.

The live recordings of Untold Stories were made by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield. Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre.

WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.

The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.

To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here.

Untold Stories is a production of the historic Florida Theatre.
Barbara Colaciello is the Artistic Director and Numa Saisselin is the President of the Florida Theatre.

The live recordings of Untold Stories were made by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanfield. Saul Lucio is the Technical Director of the Florida Theatre.

WJCT Producers are Brady Corum, David Luckin and Letisha Bereola.

The live performances of Untold Stories were made possible by a generous gift from the Wolfburg Family.

To see all of WJTC's Podcasts, click here.

In "Fish Out of Water, Part 2," "Untold Stories" brings a rich tapestry of personal narratives, each marked by a unique journey of overcoming and self-realization. This episode, recorded live at Florida Theatre, showcases storytellers from diverse backgrounds, each sharing their transformative experiences.

In her role as artistic director for 'Untold Stories,' Barbara Colaciello of BAB'S LAB combines story curation, storyteller coaching, and hosting duties to create compelling live events.

Michael Jordan, a self-taught musician living in St. Augustine, opens the episode with "Dale the Whale." His narrative, interwoven with melodic guitar strains, tells the story of the largest blue whale's struggle with loneliness and self-acceptance. Jordan's deep connection with nature and his innovative guitar techniques bring a unique dimension to his tale, echoing themes of isolation and belonging.

Arsun F!st, a Panama-born hip-hop artist and cancer survivor, recounts his intense battle with the disease. His journey through diagnosis, treatment, and eventual triumph is not just a story of survival but a powerful message about the strength of the human spirit and the importance of hope. Arsun's resilience is a reflection of his diverse life experiences, from his early years in the U.S. to his artistic and personal endeavors.

Tricia Booker, an award-winning writer, journalist, and University of North Florida writing instructor, recounts her challenges as a single mother in Ponte Vedra Beach. Her narrative explores her quest for self-identity post-divorce and the complexities of raising three adopted children in a conservative community. Tricia's expertise in storytelling and her candid, humorous approach offer insights into adaptation and self-acceptance in an environment of conformity.

Philip Pan, with a distinguished career as the Concertmaster of the Jacksonville Symphony and a background enriched by his studies at the Juilliard School, closes the episode. His transition from a classical violinist to an improvisational musician illustrates a journey of breaking free from traditional constraints and embracing musical diversity. Philip's story underscores the power of reinvention and the joy found in exploring new creative avenues.

Transcript
Please note that the following transcript has been generated by automated technology. While efforts have been made to ensure accuracy, there may be errors, inconsistencies, or deviations from the original audio. We encourage listeners to refer to the actual podcast episode for complete and accurate content. This transcript is provided for convenience and may not fully capture the nuances of the spoken word.

David Luckin
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Welcome to Untold Stories, a production
of the Florida Theater in WJCT Public Media.
Tonight's program was recorded August 6, 2022,
the theme, Fish Out of Water.
[MUSIC PLAYING]

Barbara Colaciello
We are going to start with-- we're
bringing back Michael Jordan, OK?
Isn't he so talented?
And you probably could tell that he's really a storyteller
as well.
And this next piece that he's going to do for you
is Dale the Whale.
And it is a story, a whale of a story.
So please welcome Michael Jordan.
[APPLAUSE]

Michael Jordan
Yes, it's a whale of a tail.
This is about a big blue whale, the largest blue whale.
that has ever swam the earth.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
And he has a hard go of things.
He doesn't make friends easily.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
He's pretty lonely being the biggest blue whale.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
He goes shopping, and he knocks things off the shelves,
and he has to buy them.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
He's so enormous, sometimes people
think that he's a building or something other than a whale.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
So this is the story of how Dale the Whale comes to love
himself.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Well, I'm a big blue whale. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Got a big blue tail. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ I'm a big blue whale. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Got a great big blue tale for all of you. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ I'm Dale, the loneliest whale in the sea. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Once I played with the dolphins, jumping so high. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Once I tried to play with the dolphins, jumping ever so high. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ When I lept, I came down on a pod of 25. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Now they don't want to play with me. ♪
♪ They said, I'm too blubbering, blundering. ♪
♪ Well, I'm so in the way. ♪
♪ Guess I'll go away. ♪
♪ I'm Dale, the loneliest whale, even though I try. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ I'm ostracized for being oversized. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ So after my debacle with the bottlenosed, ♪
♪ dolphins I thought I would go to the coral store. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Reaching for a pirate, I slipped and fell and my tail, ♪
♪ hit a wall of crystal balls. ♪
♪ Lord, I broke 'em all. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ With them strewn about the floor. ♪
♪ Well, I slipped and fell some more ♪
♪ and brought down the whole store. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Now Mr. Blowfish said, I got to pay for all of this. ♪
♪ I can't come back no more. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Now I got a compass that don't work. ♪
♪ Yeah, and a giant pearl cracked in half. ♪
♪ Yeah, and a flattened ancient ring. ♪
♪ Yeah, and a squashed cowboy hat. ♪
♪ At I'm Dale, the loneliest whale, and I sighed. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ A monstrous size for being super sized. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Well, the turtle with the purple shell he told me, good and well, ♪
♪ where to find someone as large as me, ♪
♪ Said she lives in the depths if you can see. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ So I drifted deep into the dark until I felt her lovely. ♪
♪ Arms wrap around me. ♪
♪ I said, "A friend finally" ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ Love was not her game. ♪
♪ No to eat me was her aim. ♪
♪ So I had to slip away. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ It was a giant squid. ♪
♪ Took a bite of my fin. ♪
♪ Now I'm swimming for my life. ♪
♪ And I'm really growing tired of being Dale, the loneliest ♪
♪ whale. And I cried. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ A monstrous size for being monster sized. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ So I thought I would abandon looking for a friend. ♪
♪ I'd put it on the shelf. ♪
♪ And now I'll just consult myself. ♪
[MUSIC PLAYING]
[MUSIC PLAYING]
[MUSIC PLAYING]
[MUSIC PLAYING]
♪ And after travelling here ♪
♪ and there ♪
♪ and all the while solitaire ♪
♪ my mind became clear ♪
♪ and my ears began to here. ♪
♪ A tiny little chorus singing day oh, we are here ♪
♪ I looked around pondering, what in the wandering sea could it be ♪
♪ Am I crazy, we're in the light that sparkle ♪
♪ I can see a thousand barnacles, were holding onto me ♪
♪ They wanna talk to me ♪
♪ They love it when ♪
♪ I breach ♪
♪ They tell me funny jokes ♪
♪ And introduce me to their folks ♪
♪ Now I'm Dale, the happiest whale ♪
♪ And I smile ♪
♪ 'Cause my friends were with me all the while ♪
♪ I'm Dale, the happiest whale ♪
♪ Because I know ♪
♪ That in my heart is where my best friend calls his home ♪
♪ Some say it's commensal, I say it's mutual ♪
♪ Because they keep me company ♪
♪ Now I'm satisfied with being ♪
♪ My size ♪
(upbeat music)
(audience cheering)
- Thank you so much, thank you so much.
(audience applauding)

Barbara Colaciello
So, first storyteller for our second half
is someone who I actually met
through a good friend of mine, Nicole Samuels.
That's her wife, that's his wife.
And it's great when you have friends
that marry neat people,
rather than they marry someone that you really don't like.
(audience laughing)
And oh well.
So, Arsun is a hip hop artist.
He is well known in Jacksonville and beyond.
And he also dabbles in,
I know I'm gonna get this wrong,
because I've been on his website,
you need to go to his website,
B-L-A-K-I-E-Y-E.
B-L-A-K-I-E, go to Arsun F!st website.
And he has these things with action figures.
So cool, very interesting.
So, I want you all to welcome Arsun F!st.
(audience applauding)

Arsun F!st
- Thank you so much.
- Greetings, greetings.
I'm gonna take everybody back to June 2019.
Found myself in the emergency room, Flagler Hospital.
After going through a few days
of some upper back pain and some abdominal pain.
Went through a series of tests,
did some blood work, did an EKG,
even did a couple MRIs.
The shift doctor at that time
could physically see the pain that I was in.
But none of the tests were lining up.
So he asked me, would I take one more MRI?
But this time with some contrast.
Of course I'm gonna say yes.
So while I'm sitting there with my wife Nicole,
who was my rock, my anchor, my better half,
and ultimately my best friend.
The shift doctor comes back and says, hey,
we gotta bring down an oncologist
because we don't like what we see in the scans.
And what they ended up showing us
was that every lymph node in my body was enlarged and swollen.
At this time, we went ahead and met Dr. Trikha.
He was the oncologist they called, came right down.
Very humble, reserved man.
But every step that he took in that emergency room floor,
he felt his presence.
He then proceeds to tell us that
I won't be leaving the emergency room that night.
Instead, they were gonna admit me upstairs for further testing.
So we settle into the room,
were able to go to sleep.
And that morning when I wake up,
I get prepped from my first biopsy.
Now, I never had this procedure before.
Didn't know what it entailed.
But I knew at that time,
it was a step towards figuring out what was going on with me.
So I have the biopsy,
come back to the room,
having a conversation with Nicole.
Then all of a sudden, we get a visit
from an infectious disease doctor.
Nicole looks at him and says, hey,
do you have any news on my husband's condition?
The doctor says, yeah,
your husband has cancer and then leaves.
I remember that room having a curtain in the middle.
There was another family on the other side.
And like yesterday, I can hear it.
Oh my God, so sorry about that news.
We're even more sorry in the way that it was delivered.
See, that doctor just left abruptly.
There was no follow-up,
no consoling.
It was just a stench of that word cancer.
And I could feel the air leaving me.
But at the same token, in the same breath,
I looked at Nicole and said,
that cancer is not going to be the end of me.
I ended up staying in the hospital for a week.
We did another biopsy.
Out of the two biopsies that were done,
nothing was shown.
Results were inconclusive.
Before I got discharged,
I got visited by a dear college friend,
who at the time, I haven't seen in about 20 years.
His name was Ian.
Ian gifted me a book.
This book is called "Becoming Supernatural"
by Joe Dispenza.
He then tells me that the pages within this book
will provide me the tools to get my mind ready
for the fight that I have to endure.
So by the time I'm discharged and I'm home,
my immediate family, Nicole's family,
and all of our closest friends know what's going on.
At the start of this, I was about 189 pounds.
After my third, and then ultimately my fourth biopsy,
I had already lost 65 pounds.
I was in really bad shape.
I couldn't move on my own.
I had a walker with tennis balls at the bottom,
so I wouldn't wake people up when I'm squeaking through the hallway.
Couldn't take a shower on my own.
Couldn't even open a refrigerator door.
This was also the time I found out that a very close friend of mine,
a brother by the name of Paten Locke, was also diagnosed with cancer.
I remember that phone call, which ended up being our last conversation.
He told me, "Arsun, I'm not going to fight this.
I'm not going to seek any experimental treatment.
Not even going to seek a second opinion.
I am ready to let this take me."
But, Arsun, you're going to beat this.
You're going to still be here.
You will be able to carry on creatively and push out those music projects that we started together.
What do I say to that?
In my mind, I know I'm about to lose a very dear friend,
but I had to suppress that grief and get my mind ready
for the fight that I had to endure.
I was completely a fish out of water.
And typically, when a fish leaves water, it dies.
But then I remembered some of the pages from Joe Dispenza's book,
and it talked about creating that visual picture in your mind
of you actually getting rid of that ailment,
pushing that disease up out of you, letting your body do what it was designed to do.
Well, when we got the results of the fourth biopsy,
our worst fears came true.
My classification was stage four.
I had a growth on my T9 vertebrae.
I had lesions at the base of my spine, and I also had a growth in my abdominal area.
Again, I knew that I wasn't going to let cancer take me.
And at that time, with that given diagnosis of T cell lymphoma,
Dr. Trikha tells me that the current chemo isn't very good,
very low rate of success and survivability.
So this is that time when that darkness creeps in.
And I start to question my own mortality.
Would I even have the strength to see this through?
A few days go by, Dr. Trikha calls up again and says, "Hey,
there's a brand new chemo therapy treatment designed specifically for T-Cell lymphoma.
That's literally six months out of FDA testing and finally got approved."
Sounds great, right?
Well, had a hurdle to jump, and that hurdle was my insurance company.
The first time we called, didn't go so well.
We called again, finally, we got that approval.
Called Dr. Trikha to tell him the news.
He then outlines my treatment plan.
He tells me, for six months, every 21 days, I'll be sitting in the chair for four hours,
getting pumped full of chemicals, hoping to kill the cancer that's slowly killing me.
I literally had to become supernatural.
It was around my fourth cycle when I was sitting in Dr. Trikha's office and he's going
over the charts.
And he's in astonishment.
We're like, "What's going on?"
He said, "We can't even see the lesions at the base of your spine."
And every single growth or tumor in your body has already shrunk dramatically."
But instead of celebrating prematurely, he tells me that I have to register myself on
a stem cell donor list because that would be my only path to a true cure in getting rid of this
cancer completely.
Nicole and I look at each other.
And at this point, it's a no-brainer.
Put my name on the registry list.
And by the time that I hit that sick cycle,
not only was I in remission, I was 100% cancer free.
[applause]
And on top of that, I had also secured a 100% donor match for my stem cell transplant.
I couldn't believe it.
Dr. Trikha looks at me and says, "You're a miracle."
And I think at the time I was wearing an Incredible Hulk shirt where Banner's turning into the Hulk.
And I was like, "Yeah, this is what I do. I'm a superhero."
But I wasn't out of the woods yet.
Dr. Trikha places a referral to one of his colleagues, another oncologist in Jacksonville
at Mayo Clinic. His name was Dr. Ayala.
Dr. Ayala signed me up to have the stem cell procedure done.
Now, by this time, we're looking at March 2020, literally the week before COVID lockdown hit.
So I'm in the hospital, and Dr. Ayala tells me, "Hey, you're going to have to go through
four days straight of some of the most intensive chemotherapy that you're going to ever witness."
Because we got to kill every white blood cell in your body to get ready.
For the stem cell transplant.
Now, when I tell you those four days were harder than my last six months, it's no exaggeration.
I didn't think I was going to make it.
But following Joe Dispenza, making my mind see that visual picture
of all the chemicals that I'm injecting, getting rid of that cancer,
getting that new lease on my life, I was able to survive the stem cell transplant.
And by the time I got the results, after a few days of trials, tribulations, little hiccups
here and there, Dr. Ayala tells me, "Your relapse chance went from double digits to single digits,
and you're almost at zero percent."
If it wasn't for that courageous donor who showed strength and volunteered some of their stem cells
to save my life, this fish would have never found his ocean again.
But here I am, living, loving, and surviving.
Thank you.
[Applause]

Barbara Colaciello
He is a true miracle.
What a journey.
Our next storyteller is just a fabulous woman who is very well known in the Jacksonville literary
scene. She's a UNF professor in writing and I took my notes because I wanted to make sure that
her first memoir, A Place of Peace in Crickets, How Adoption, Heartache, and Love Built a Family,
is a story about love, kids, dogs, and cats. Tricia Booker is just a very special lady.
Please welcome Tricia.
[Applause]

Tricia Booker
Hi everybody. I'm here with Buddy, my service dog.
Buddy, can you lay down please?
Buddy has been the only dependable male in my life for the past two years.
It's been that way since my husband left me. He left the weekend that the pandemic began.
And I remember being in our closet area and he's packing his things and we're kind of talking,
but we're kind of not talking to because I'm kind of in shock.
And I'm watching him and I'm thinking, if he packs my CrossFit hoodie, I'm going to
kill him because it's bad enough that he's leaving, but then if he takes my CrossFit hoodie,
that would just be the ultimate sin. But he didn't and he left and I put my hoodie on and I sat at
the end of my bed and I thought, wow, this is my life now. He moved to a studio apartment in Riverside,
the vibrant, culturally enriching, diverse neighborhood of Riverside. He left me in Ponte Vedra
with three teenagers, three dogs and a fish named Celine Dion.
And if you know Ponte Vedra, you know that it's a very wealthy community. It's a very beautiful place.
They have amazing schools, which is why we moved there. Beautiful beaches, gorgeous landscaping.
Our grass is literally greener than yours. But it's also like not really me. I mean,
it's a very conservative and a very predictable neighborhood. It's a very safe place to live.
There's an era of uniformity about it. If you live in a neighborhood in Ponte Vedra,
you probably have a homeowners association that tells you what color you have to paint your house
and what your lawn should look like. And if you make any changes at all to your house, you have to
ask permission. And I'm not really like that. I'm kind of messy. I'm a little bit of free
spirited and spontaneous and I like to do things different with my yard. I like to put signs in
my yard that are not allowed. And the homeowners association sends me letters and I take the signs
down and then they forget about it. I put the signs back up and we go back and forth. I actually
got a letter from a woman one time calling me a PITA. I was like a PITA. What is that? I had to
Google it. It stands for Paint In The Ass. So I am a Ponte Vedra PITA. So I'm living in Ponte Vedra
as a PITA. And I'm trying to do two really hard things. The first is that I'm trying to raise my
children to be unabashedly themselves. I want them to be brave and unique and I want them to
feel free to express themselves the way they are and not the way they think they should be.
Right? They are children of color. My children were adopted. My oldest one I
adopted from Vietnam and the youngest two I adopted from Guatemala. And so as children of color,
they're automatically kind of other because Ponte Vedra is 97% white. My children though have been
amazing. I think I've been fairly successful in telling them, "I want you to be you." No matter
who you are, I am proud of you. I want you to be utterly yourself. My daughter is in college. My
son and other daughter are both at Ponte Vedra high school. So my son is 17. He is gay. He's a
musical theater buff. He loves New York City and origami. And he is decorating his room right now
in a Boho aesthetic. He said, "Do you know what a Boho means, mom?" I'm like, "Oh yeah, we've invented
Boho." But I love who he is and I love that he's not afraid to be himself. My younger daughter is 15.
She plays three instruments. She has described her style as a fairy goth. I would describe it as like
Lolita fairy goth. I asked her one time, "How come you don't get dress coded, honey?" And she said,
"I don't know." And I said, "I think maybe the teachers are afraid of you?" And she said,
"They should be." And I was like, "Oh, okay." She's very into the supernatural and she likes to
read your tarot cards and crystals and I have found bowls of salt under my threshold and I don't know
what that means but it's okay with me. It doesn't bother me at all. The second really hard thing I'm
doing is trying to figure out who I am because when you're married for 26 years, together for 30
years and you lose that part of you, it's kind of like an amputation. I mean, I found myself very
unbalanced. I was unable to see who I am because when you have somebody to bounce yourself off of,
you feel like you feel secure in that. Like, okay, somebody gets who I am and appreciates that.
And that person was gone. So I've got to figure out who I am again in this place that again values
conformity. And it's a wealthy neighborhood and you know wealth can buy you an extended period of
beauty, right? And it's a certain standard of beauty, maybe a traditional standard of beauty.
There's a lot of beauty in Ponte Vedra. There's a lot of Botox and a lot of filler and a lot of
really cute clothes. And I'm kind of not like that. And I don't really begrudge people who
are like that. It's just that it's not me. I mean, sometimes I might begrudge them a little bit just
because you know, like eyelid surgery wouldn't be terrible. But I don't really want to do that.
I am just a little different. I don't wear a lot of makeup. I don't wear cute clothes. I thrift most
of my clothes. Actually, I have tattoos. I only shower outside because I have this amazing outdoor...
I'm a little bit feral if you want to know the truth.
And I don't feel like I have a tribe around me in Ponte Vedra who can look at me and say,
you know, you're different, but you're okay. I told my kids therapist, because I borrow my kids
therapist sometimes, I said, I feel hideous is what I feel like. I feel really just hideous.
And it reminded me of when I was 12 years old and I switched schools from this small,
suburban parochial school to an upper crust, all girls private Catholic school in uptown New Orleans.
And I didn't know it was a snobby school, but it was. And we had uniforms we wore, but one day a month,
we could wear regular clothes. So the first day I showed up wearing regular clothes, I was so
excited. I wore my favorite outfit, which was this yellow pants suit. It was a yellow cotton pants
suit with a big zebra applique right here and right here. See, now you know already that this
is a terrible thing to wear to a school. I can tell because you're laughing, but I thought it was
the most fabulous thing. I mean, I loved wildlife and I mean, anyway. So the first person to say
something to me was Elizabeth Cubel. She said, I like your outfit. And I said, thank you very much,
because I thought, but then I saw her sneering and I knew that she was making fun of me.
It had been my favorite pantsuit, but I never wore it again. And we had to go shopping that
weekend because I needed to buy all straight legged pants and alligator shirts, Lacoste
alligator shirts, and topsiders because I wanted to be like everybody else because I wasn't brave
enough to be myself. My friends say, you will find someone who appreciates who you are. And I've
hopped on the dating apps for a quick minute here or there. It did not go well. The first time I
used as my profile picture, I was holding a chainsaw and I had this t-shirt that said,
the t-shirt said smash the patriarchy. But I thought, you know, I just, thank you.
I wanted people to know who I was. You know, the therapist says, well, you know, maybe it's,
if you were trying to sell a house, you just, you improve the curb appeal. So maybe you could just
improve your curb appeal. But I just feel like that's so much trouble. I want people to see me for
who I am. So I was utterly uninterested in the guy who, who tried to like me, who said he could
lick his own eyebrow. And I didn't think that was a very marketable skill at all.
There was another guy though who said, what's your unforgivable thing in a relationship? What's
unforgivable? And I thought that's a really good question. I mean, not for him to ask, but for me
to ask myself. And I thought, what is unforgivable for me? And I thought, well, narcissism, uncontrollable
anger, racism, homophobia, inability to love my kids, inability to love my dog.
I wrote all this to him. And then I, I should have written public toenail clipping, but I didn't
write that. But I wrote all this and he deleted me immediately, which was okay, because I deleted
the app. And I thought, you know what, I am just now trying to figure out who I am. Why do I have
to explain myself to somebody else when I can barely explain myself to myself?
Thank you guys.
I had as a little girl a pony. We had this cabin in the woods. And I used to love to ride this
pony bare back through the woods. My dad had these trails that he had carved through the woods with
his tractor. And I'd get up early in the morning and I'd hop bear back on my pony. And I would ride
singing,
🎵 Happy trails to you... 🎵
because I envisioned myself being on the Roy Rogers show. And I was so
utterly happy with my place in the world. I mean, I knew who I was. I knew where I was. I was like,
I, I don't care where I'm going. I can just be going to that next tree, but it's where I'm supposed
to be. And I'm who I'm supposed to be. And it didn't matter what polyester abomination I was wearing,
I looked great. I want to be like that now. I want to be able to live in Ponte Vedra and say,
this is who I am. This is okay.
I used to deep-sea fish a lot with my dad. My dad was ever on a quest for the great Blue Marlin.
And he caught several Blue Marlins. When you catch a Blue Marlin, a big Blue Marlin, like
multi-hundred pounds, you get them on the boat. And as soon as they come through the
transom, the first thing my dad would do, we used to call him Captain Safety. He was so afraid of
someone getting hurt. But when a fish gets out of the water and it's on the boat, it starts
thrashing, right? Because it's out of the water. And my dad was always terrified the fish would
throw the hook. And so he had what we called a tuna stick. And he would take the fish by the
bill and he would beat the head to stun it because he didn't want it to throw the hook.
And something would happen to this fish. It would start glowing. It was like this beautiful
effervescent glow. It was just an amazing creature. It was phenomenal to see.
So here's this beautiful creature and you beat it and it glows and glows and glows
and then it dies. But you don't have to do it that way. I caught a Blue Marlin once. It was only
two hundred pounds. We got it up to the boat and we held it by the bill and we took a picture
and we took the hook out because we were going to release it. And we released that fish back into
the water. And it did not dive back into the ocean and swim with all the other fish.
It started jumping and twirling. It tail walked. It was like, "Psh, psh, psh, psh." It was amazing.
And I think I can be like that fish. I can be in the water and I can be who I am among all these
other creatures that perhaps are not like me. But every once in a while, I can jump up out of the
water and say, "Here I am." Thank you very much. [applause]
Buddy, come.

Barbara Colaciello
Whoo!

Tricia Booker
Come on.

Barbara Colaciello
Come on, buddy. I love, buddy. That tail never stops wagging. The whole time, it's just like,
"Okay, that's buddy. I know all these stories and I'm just totally like, what is it?
Keflemish? What?
Verklempt! Verklempt, I'm not around enough Jewish friends. I have to change that.
How many of you have gone to the Jacksonville Symphony?
Well, it's a good chance that you have seen our next storyteller because Philip Pan was the
concert master at the Jacksonville Symphony for many, many years. And he is...
Philip is just one of the most kindest, generous, brilliant people I know.
And I've known him now for a little while and he's just a very, very special man.
And I am really thrilled to work with him. And so I welcome Philip to the stage.

Phillip Pan
It's 1969. I'm standing on a cafeteria table at the Boght Hills Elementary School in Latham, New York,
Christmas PTA meeting. A voice over the PA says, "And now, Philip Pan from Mrs. Cosgrove's third grade
class will perform "Fiddler on the Roof."
🎵 [Plays the intro to "Prologue" from "Fiddler on the Roof" screaching and out of tune on the violin]
I knew that sucked.
🎵 [Dramatically plays the first four notes of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 on the violin]
Worse, I knew everybody in the room thought it sucked too.
🎵 [Dramatically plays the next four notes of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 on the violin]
I need to take a moment to apologize to Beethoven for hijacking the wonderful music from his fifth
symphony to represent my personal neurosis. I didn't really like the violin or violin music at that
point in my life. What had happened was that about two months prior, a gentleman with a little bow tie,
his arms full of kid-sized violins showed up at a classroom and he said, "If anyone will sign up
for violin lessons with me, I'll give them a violin right now." I was like, "Okay, me, me!"
Because I thought, "Dad would be so happy. My father loved the violin. He played very well as an amateur.
He and my mother met over a love of music, and they often played together violin and piano at home."
So I just thought, "How happy will Dad be when I bring home my own violin?"
Well, despite the trauma of my debut performance, I stuck with it. I worked hard.
By middle school, I was practicing maybe six or seven hours a day. One summer, I actually moved
in with my teacher so I could have lessons every single day for a couple of months.
There was a joke when I went around my house that I was no good at attracting girls my age,
but when I played the violin, every woman over 50 swooned.
Well, by 11th grade, still working hard, a great opportunity came my way. I was invited to play
a concerto with the Boston Pops Orchestra. Thank you. At Symphony Hall in Boston,
and to be recorded by NPR and rebroadcast over all the syndicated stations.
So needless to say, I practiced really hard, was well prepared for this performance.
The Boston Pops, of course, marvelous orchestra also made me feel very welcome and at ease.
And the performance itself was going pretty well. This concerto was in three parts, and
the finale is introduced first by the orchestra.
🎵 [Plays concerto orchestra finale introduction on the violin]
That happens exactly 13 times then the violin solo comes in.
🎵 [Plays concerto violin finale confidently]
Well, I'm standing there not counting, and at about the 15th or 16th,
the conductor leans over to me and says, "You can come in anytime now."
Oh, I had just...
🎵 [Dramatically plays the first four notes of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 on the violin]
In front of the entire Boston Pops Orchestra, 3,000 people in Boston Symphony Hall,
and who knows how many people who would listen to the broadcast on the radio.
So...
🎵 [Dramatically plays the next four notes of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 on the violin with the last note pitch bending down sadly]
my demons of fear, of messing up, and the fear of being judged for it were wide awake.
And they would be with me for decades through the rest of high school,
through my first year at Boston University, four years at the Juilliard School, festivals like
the Aspen Music Festival. And they were with me in 1984 when I came to Jacksonville to become
concertmaster of the Jacksonville Symphony. I'm often asked, "What's it like to play in a
professional symphony orchestra?" And my answer is, I imagine it's like being in the military,
because individualism, individual thought creativity, are not welcome. What's expected is
competent, immediate execution of orders given, and mistakes are not okay.
So it's with this mindset, I went to work every day. In the 90s, a guest soloist came
to our Masterwork series. He brought a violin with him, but he was not per se a violinist.
He was a fiddler, Mark O'Connor, arguably the greatest fiddler of our time. And he brought his own
composition, Fiddle Concerto No. 1.
🎵 [Plays the introduction to The Fiddle Concerto by Mark O'Conner on the violin]
A just wonderful, delightful amalgamation of Appalachian
Americana and a symphonic setting. And we were chatting after the concerts, I told them how much
I'd really enjoyed his performance. He said, "You should come to my fiddle camp. It's a week long,
immersion in world violin music. There's classical, bluegrass, jazz, zydeco, mariachi,
klezmer, Chinese folk music, everything violin. You might like it." Well, it took me 'til 2005 to
finally go to Fiddle camp. And I think the orchestra, the stress of it, was sort of
wearing on me. I was looking for some kind of relief, some kind of a change. So I arrived at the
hotel and in the lobby where everyone was registering, fiddlers and violinists from all over the world
were already taking their violins out of their cases, making new friends, and making music right
there in the lobby. Over in one corner, a bluegrass circle. In another corner, Irish fiddlers playing
jigs and reels. And then from across the room, I heard something familiar.
🎵 [Plays the melody of Summertime by George Gershwin on the violin]
Ooh I know that! That's George Gershwin. We played George Gershwin. Wow, maybe I can even join in
with these guys. So I went over and this young lady about 15 was just finishing the melody.
And then she sort of leaned into the guitarist and said, "Let's swing this."
🎵 [Continues the melody of Summertime by George Gershwin on the violin, but with a swing beat and added flourishes and improved harmonies]
What?! I was stunned. She had just turned this into the swingy, cool, groovy. And she looked like
she was making it all up. Like, no music, just making it up. And I was elated, excited, and then
immediately dejected. Because I couldn't do this. 20 years, professional violinist. No clue.
Whole week went that way. Every class. Amazing new music. Couldn't play a note. Of course,
I asked everybody, "How'd you learn to do that? How'd you learn to play like that?"
Lessons, special teachers, special school. You grew up with it. Everybody just told me, "No,
you just find people who play that music. You join in. You learn as you go." Absolutely
terrifying thought to a classically trained violinist. But I went back to Jacksonville
determined to somehow dip my toe into these new wonderful styles of music.
Put the word out. So happened. My family doctor's little brother was the drummer in a very popular
and successful local band called Fusebox Funk. Fusebox Funk was fronted by Grant Nielsen.
Grant Nielsen, our friend, the vegetarian. Grant and the band were very kind, invited me to learn
a few of their songs and even join them on stage at some local shows. Their music was so fun,
super high energy.
🎵 [Plays a sample of Fusebox Funk on the violin]
And it became an addiction of mine after Symphony Concert on a Friday
or Saturday night to run backstage, pack up, jump in my car, and drive out to a venue like
Freebird Live. Remember Freebirds? Rest in peace, Freebirds? And I would, you know,
still in my tux or my tail coat, jump on stage, plug in, and jam out with my new friends.
And I love this so much because this was a judgment-free zone. No one cared if you made a
mistake. Nobody knew if you made a mistake because all that was important was that you were in the
moment, you were part of the energy, you contributed to it, and everybody had a great time.
Well, after Fusebox, I joined a progressive metal band called the Architect Sound. And then I had
a series of gigs in Atlanta playing with DJ Mike B, who was leading DJ of the day, and he would
spin these mash-ups of Katy Perry and Lil Wayne, and I would just jam along. And in Jacksonville,
I was really, really fortunate to play with some great indie bands. In particular, Canary in the
Cole Mine and Grandpa's Cough Medicine presented me the opportunity with playing at the Spirit of
the Suwannee Music Park. And yes, if you don't already know, the Suwannee Music Park is one of the worlds
great live music venues. It's beautiful, and attracts the best players in the world.
And the Spirit is just like how I described in the clubs in Jacksonville. Everybody's
their famous, not so famous, to share what they have, to appreciate what you have. And it's just
a joyful, happy place. No coincidence that I met the love of my life at Suwannee.
Cheryl, we got married there. I proposed to her there on stage, singing an Elvis song.
And at our wedding, our friends played and sang for us all night long.
When I first conceived of my fish out of water story, I thought, yeah, perfect. This would be the
story of my uncomfortable transition from being a rigid, highly prepared, classical player,
to learning how to loosen up, being a moment, improvise. As the story developed, I realized that
most of my life I felt out of my water. And where I wanted to be in the pond I wanted to swim in
was not defined by any particular style of music. It was defined that the people I was with.
And I found people who are just joyful, open-hearted, and willing to let go of unnecessary
fears and worries. In 2017, I retired from the symphony. And at that time, I made the conscious
decision that I want to swim in these happy, joyful waters, no matter what kind of music I play.
I'm really, really happy to be here. I'm really happy that you are all here too. Thank you.
Grant Nielsen with his guitar. Do you want to make some music?

Grant Nielsen
Let's do it. Let's make some music.

Phillip Pan
Okay. What should we play? Hmm. Okay.
Now just check. All right. I know. Let's play this.
🎵 [Phillip and Grant plays an improved Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 with flamenco, latin and jazz influences on violin and guitar ]
♪♪
[Applause]
[Applause]

Barbara Colaciello
Yeah! So listen! We're at the end of the evening and we're going to call the cast after bows and actually also there are storytellers in the audience that
this has been a four-part series each time we had six storytellers so a bunch of the storytellers are here so if you're a storyteller from untold stories make your way over to the stage door okay because we're all going to have you all come out and take a final bow for the end of the season okay.
[Applause]
Alright so without further ado please the cast of Fish out of Water okay come on out.
[Applause]
Plus Buddy.
[Applause]
And to that Johnson, Ana, Angie, Grant, Tricia, Arsun, [Applause]
Phillip and Michael.
What a wonderful evening and I'll take a bow too.
[Applause]
And Jeremy on sound and the Florida Theatre has the most amazing staff Jackie at the door I love her, and now all the storytellers come on out that have been throughout the season.
[Applause]
We've got families coming out.
Come on come down at this end too.
Hope McMath.
[Applause]
And now everyone's going this way.
[Applause]
We're all gravitated too.
So it has been amazing.
[Applause]
Thank you Numa, Cecilyne, I don't know where Numa is, Numa should be up here.
[Applause]
And Jake and Brian Wolfberg, thank you, thank you for believing in the power of stories.
Thank you guys.
[Applause]

David Luckin
The live performances of Untold Stories at the Florida Theatre were originally recorded by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stanzfield.
Saul Lucio is the technical director of the Florida Theatre.
The Untold Stories broadcast and podcast was produced by Brady Corum and Ray Hollister.
[Music]
(upbeat music)

Dive into the profound and unexpected journeys of four remarkable individuals in "Untold Stories: Fish Out of Water, Part 1." This episode, recorded live at the iconic Florida Theatre on August 6th, 2022, the episode encapsulates the essence of embracing one's uniqueness in unfamiliar waters.

At the heart of each episode of 'Untold Stories' is the artistic director, Barbara Colaciello from BAB'S LAB, who expertly curates narratives, provides guidance to storytellers, and hosts the live events with finesse.

Michael Jordan, a musician from St. Augustine, opens the show with his enchanting music, embodying themes of water and self-discovery. His song "Sow" resonates with the theme, narrating the poignant tale of leaving home and finding oneself in the world. Jordan's unique guitar techniques and heartfelt lyrics set a contemplative tone for the evening.

Antoinette Johnson takes us on a rollercoaster of emotions, detailing her shift from a U.S. Army veteran to a beacon of hope and support through her enterprise, TrueJoy. Her narrative is a patchwork of challenges, rejections, and eventual triumph in Jacksonville, painting a vivid picture of resilience and the unexpected joy of finding one's tribe in the least likely places.

Ana Ng's narrative weaves through continents, explorinag her layered identity as a Panamanian-Chinese American. Her story, punctuated by cultural clashes and linguistic hurdles, offers a window into the life of a multicultural individual forging her path amidst diverse worlds. Ng's tale is a colorful mosaic of struggles and triumphs, echoing the complexities of a life lived across borders.

Grant Nielson provides a refreshing perspective on embracing one's quirks in a conformist world. Growing up vegetarian in a predominantly meat-eating community, his journey is laced with humor and introspection. Nielson's experiences, from childhood misunderstandings to finding his creative niche, underline the episode's theme: there's extraordinary power in owning your uniqueness.

Transcript

Please note that the following transcript has been generated by automated technology. While efforts have been made to ensure accuracy, there may be errors, inconsistencies, or deviations from the original audio. We encourage listeners to refer to the actual podcast episode for complete and accurate content. This transcript is provided for convenience and may not fully capture the nuances of the spoken word.

David Luckin
(jazz music)
- Welcome to Untold Stories,
a production of the Florida Theater and WJCT Public Media.
Tonight's program was recorded August 6th, 2022.
The theme, fish out of water.

Barbara Colaciello
We always start off with a musical act
and tonight we have a very special guest, Michael Jordan.
Michael lives in St. Augustine, he's been here since 2011.
He's a wonderful musician.
He plays guitar in a whole different way,
so I'm not going to explain it,
you're just going to be seeing it.
He does deal with themes of water
and that was perfect for this particular theme,
fish out of water.
So please welcome Michael Jordan.
(audience applauding)

Michael Jordan
Hello.
It is my immense pleasure to be here and play for you guys.
The song is about leaving home for the first time
and being out in the world by yourself.
That can happen when you're 18,
that can happen when you're 12, 42.
It's called "Sow," as in you sow the fields.
(gentle music)
(birds chirping)
(gentle music)
(birds chirping)
(gentle music)
(birds chirping)
(gentle music)
(birds chirping)
(gentle music)
♪ When I left my home ♪
♪ As a boy on my own ♪
♪ I was alone ♪
♪ My mama said, "Son, be patient with all you can ♪
♪ To be a man, Lord, if you can." ♪
♪ And sow ♪
(gentle music)
♪ When I left my home ♪
♪ As a boy on my own ♪
♪ I was alone ♪
♪ My daddy had said, "Son, work hard with your hands ♪
♪ To be a man, Lord, if you can." ♪
♪ And sow ♪
(gentle music)
♪ When I left my home ♪
♪ As a boy on my own ♪
♪ I was alone ♪
♪ Trying to find my ♪
♪ My third eye, eye, eye, eye, eye ♪
♪ When I left my home ♪
♪ Trying to find my third eye, eye, eye, eye ♪
♪ Thought I was blind ♪
♪ 'Til I met myself in a dream where I said, "Son, ♪
♪ "Why don't you look inside? ♪
♪ "Your eyes are fine, eyes are fine." ♪
♪ And sow ♪
(gentle music)
♪ And sow the fields of love ♪
♪ And sow the fields of love ♪
♪ And sow the fields of love ♪
[APPLAUSE]
Thank you, thank you.

Barbara Colaciello
So beautiful. Thank you for starting off tonight, Michael.
Didn't that make you want to dance?
Well guess what?
I always get people up on their feet.
I think it's important that we move and we groove.
And so I was thinking, alright, you know, I always try to come up with a dance
and the theme is fish out of water.
So I have been watching videos of fishermen casting off a line. "I don't fish."
So it was really interesting because everyone has some kind of British accent
who is telling you what to do about the fish.
So we're going to get up and we're going to do the stance of casting off the line.
So everyone up.
Come on, come on. And I can see you.
So I know.
Okay, so Jeremy is going to give us some music.
Got the rod.

[music]
♪ This seaweed is always greener in somebody else's lake. ♪

Barbara Colaciello
Oh, you guys are doing great.
You didn't know you were going to get an aerobic workout.
Thank you.
[applause]
Oh, they're not sitting down. They want to do more.
That was under the sea with a beat.
You don't know how long that took me to find a song for this, okay?
These are the things I do at night instead of go to bed.
So, we are going to begin the evening.
Our first storyteller is a very special person in my life.
I'm going to focus on how I meet people.
I don't know, sometime, maybe 2008, 2005, I really don't know the date.
But I--Antoinette Johnson walked into Players by the Sea
where I was going to be directing a play, Gem of the Ocean.
There were two female characters in that play, and she walked in.
One character was 29 years old.
The other one was 265 years old.
It's an August Wilson play, and that woman, Aunt Esther, embodies the history,
the African-American history in the United States.
So she comes in, of course. I have a read for the younger woman.
She actually is 28 years old.
And as she's reading, I'm looking at her face and the way she's using it and moving it,
and I just said, "Okay, can you read for Aunt Esther?"
And she said, "Well, I was going to suggest that, but I thought you'd think I'm crazy."
Anyway, she read for Aunt Esther. She became Aunt Esther.
She just was amazing.
And so tonight, when you hear her story, maybe it'll make sense, what I just told you.
Toni is a spiritual theologian. She has a company, TrueJoy,
which becomes a bridge for people that need help, and she's a special, special lady.
Please, please welcome Antoinette Johnson.
[applause]

Antoinette Johnson
Hi, everybody.
So I got to Jacksonville in 2006. I had just gotten out of the Army.
I was stationed up in Fort Stewart, Georgia, and every time I had to leave,
I would come to Jacksonville. I absolutely loved it.
One thing that I loved the most was every time I crossed the Georgia-Florida border,
it was like the sun would just come out from behind the clouds.
It was absolutely amazing. So I decided I was going to set up roots here in Jacksonville.
Well, the first three apartments I got here were on month-to-month leases,
and they were infested with everything from German cockroaches to palmettos to rats and mold.
Okay, that's different.
Then I started my job search, and it seemed like everywhere I went,
oh, no, you are, like, way too overqualified.
We think you're going to get bored here. All right.
So jobs are a little challenging.
But then I started to try to make friends, and for me, I go to the usual places,
you know, churches, local clubs, bars, salons, things like that.
I also got on a couple online dating sites, and I met nothing but swindlers, users,
and people that were in such dire financial need that they were willing to do anything to get those needs met,
including in a few cases steal from me.
So after about eight months of feeling completely rejected by this village disguised cleverly as a city,
I thought, okay, that's it, Jacksonville, I've had enough.
So I was living on Old Kings Road, and I decided, let me pack up everything,
I'm going to get out of Florida, that's it, I'm heading up to Savannah, I'm getting out of Dodge.
Pack up my car, I'm driving down University Boulevard,
I get off on the University and about an exit, and my car decides to break down.
Okay, universe, all right, you're trying to tell me something, I'm not sure what, but plan A, let me call up the family.
Hey, Auntie, yeah, my car just broke down, and, oh, no, oh, you know what, no problem, it's all good.
Next person, hey, cuz, yeah, yeah, yeah, what's going on, huh, how's Juneburg, okay, cool, cool, cool, cool.
Well, you know, my car just broke down, and, no, you can't either, okay, you know, no problem.
Hey, sis, yeah, things are kind of challenging here, my car just broke down.
No, no, anything you can send will be great.
Oh, okay, all right, so I get towed back to my apartment, and I'm going through my plans.
I have to find a way to get around.
My car's broken down, public transportation.
I live on Old Kings Road, I tried to get from Old Kings Road to downtown.
It took four hours.
That's it, navigating this city without a car is not gonna work for me.
Plan C, I'm gonna get every job I can within a three-mile radius, work my butt off, make some cheddar, and get out of here.
Well, I got those three jobs all along Baymeadows Road.
Within two months, one of those jobs completely shut down, and the other one had a massive layoff.
Okay, I get it, there is a vortex trying to keep me here in this city, but I am not going to give up yet.
I decide I'm going to get my commercial driver's license, and I become a limousine driver.
And I actually took pretty well to it, I enjoyed it.
One of my first driving gigs, I was in a 1955 Silver Dawn, it was a Rolls-Royce vintage vehicle.
It has zero air conditioning.
I'm picking up a newly married couple, they're so adorable.
We're driving down 295, and I'm thinking, "Ooh, it's pretty hot in here, let me roll down the window just a bit."
And this smell begins to permeate the vehicle.
It's a mixture of coffee and sulfur and rotten eggs and sewage?
Oh my God, Jacksonville, this is just not working for me.
So as I continued driving though, I discovered more and more about Jacksonville.
I also discovered Jacksonville's very unique form of prejudice.
I called it like a mixture between driving Miss Daisy meets Song of the South meets American History X.
It was a little bit of, "Oh my goodness, bless your heart, you are so well spoken. Why don't you come and work for me?"
So I'm going to pick up somebody for their special occasion.
I drive up and I hear, "Hey, I'm going to need you to get off my property, zigger!"
"Oh, I'm sorry sir, I'm just here to pick up your son and his friends for prom?"
Things didn't get too much better after that because in December of 2006, I got some news I wasn't expecting.
My only and older sister by 10 years, Denise Marie, had been diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer.
And I think to myself, "Oh man, I thought it was going to be bad news, she's going to be totally fine."
Now, let me tell you why I thought that. My sister was a literal super human.
She was once hit by a semi coming across a bridge. Her car was completely crushed.
Do you know this woman got out of the car, told the driver to go screw himself, and then walked home?
Now we convinced her to go to the hospital where she literally walked away with nothing but a mild concussion.
But her death-defying feats didn't stop there. My sister also happened to love seafood.
And we came from a little swamp called Louisiana, so seafood was always on the menu.
Doesn't matter whether it's a fish fry, crab bowl, shrimp bowl, crawdad fest, my sister was there for it.
The problem was, she was also deathly allergic to seafood.
So when we had cookouts, she showed up, EpiPen in hand. I'm talking full-on reaction.
Swollen hands, swollen face, swollen throat, literally about to enjoy the last meal of her life.
Thriving, enjoying every last bite. She could survive anything.
But my sister wasn't just physically phenomenal, she was also emotionally phenomenal.
See, we grew up in a very religious Southern Baptist family. It was either God's way or no way.
And me, I was the little flower child, speaking peace and love.
And I had a really unique ability. I could see and communicate with spirits.
You know, like that movie, "The Sixth Sense"? I see dead people. But not as dramatic.
Now, my mother knew that I had this ability, and so did my grandmother.
They did the best they could to navigate that, but my mother really understood.
When I was five, my mother began to succumb to difficulties from the juvenile diabetes that she had lived her life with.
She was 35, and she went into the hospital.
Now, she knew that her time was coming, so she instructed my big sister to bring me to the hospital so she could let me know what was going on.
She knew that I could see, and she wanted to make sure that I was prepared for what was going to happen.
So for six months, my big sister drove me back and forth to the hospital so I could have these one-on-ones with my mother.
And I still remember the funeral.
I was the only one in that room, smiling from ear to ear, because I could see my mother standing next to her coffin.
And I began to tell my family, "Hey, Mom's OK. She has a new body. She's not hurting anymore.
Guys, she's feeling great. Isn't this wonderful?"
All my family saw was a little six-year-old that was coping with the loss of her mother via the use of wild imaginings.
But the one who believed me was my sister.
Over the course of the next three years, we would lose her father, both of our grandparents, two aunts and two uncles.
And I would also, in the midst of that, lose my sister, because when she was 16, she had a child.
And remember, I come from a very religious family.
They thought that she was going to be a bad influence on me, so they separated us.
And I didn't fully have my sister back into my life until I was about 18.
And around that time, I was really coming to terms with the fact that not only was I a spiritual medium, but I was also gay.
Like, super gay.
And coming from a black, Southern Baptist family, being gay is more of a white thing, you know?
Like gluten, or like raisins and casserole and coleslaw type of stuff.
So it did not go over very well, but my sister accepted me as if it was totally normal and natural.
She said, "Hey, you love who you love, right?"
And I thought, "Wow."
She was always there for me.
So in April of 2007, I'm still in Jacksonville, I'm still desperately trying to get out because this city is not for me, I'm not fitting in, I'm feeling rejected, and I get the call from my nephew.
"Auntie Net, mom's gone."
In that moment, I was suddenly thrust into that psychedelic tunnel from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, you know, with all the wild images on the wall.
There's no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going.
There's no knowing where we're rowing or which way the river's flowing.
Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a-blowing?
Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be growing.
Are the fires of hell a-glowing? Is the grizzly reaper mowing?
Yes, the danger must be growing, for the rowers keep on rowing, and they're certainly not showing any signs that they are slowing.
I was suddenly thrust out of the waters of emotion and into the air of logic, being forced to come to terms with the fact that my only sister, the only connection to my family,
Denise Marie, 5'5", 120 pounds of Mighty Mouse Kryptonian energy, had been taken out by the kryptonite that is cancer.
And it just did not compute.
And not only did she disappear, but as I looked out into my world, my family, the spirits of my mother, my grandparents, and all of my ancestors who had been with me had also disappeared.
I began searching for light wherever I could, and the one place I found it was in my sister.
In the fact that she was always there for me, always helping me, always supporting me.
So that's where I began looking for her, in those acts of service.
One of the first things I began doing, because I was still driving for the limousine company at the time, is picking up people from bus stops in the limo and dropping them off at their various locations.
But let me tell you folks, there is nothing like driving down Moncrief, okay, in a stretch limo and having people come up to your window, mobbing the car, saying, "Hey, I got something to say."
It's a scary moment. I began to help wherever I could. I mean, I got so bad, I was in grocery stores and people would say, "Do you work here?"
"No, but I can help." So I'm running around stores trying to find things, doing everything I could.
I was the epitome of that Alan Watts quote. "Please let me help you or you'll drown," says the monkey, putting the fish safely up a tree.
I helped and helped as much as I could. And I didn't stop until about maybe three months later. I was in line at a McDonald's in Mandarin.
And there was this older woman behind me, and I had not had my fix of helping that day.
And so I turned around and I said, "Excuse me, ma'am, why don't you let me buy you lunch?"
She said, "What's wrong with you? I look like a bum or something? Look like I ain't got no money? I don't need you."
"No, ma'am, I just wanted to get you." "What's wrong with you? Got your head all in the clouds? Some kind of space cadet or something? I don't need you. Move."
So I moved and I stopped. Space cadet. That's what my sister used to call me.
She had shown up in the form of this irate woman and said, "What in the world are you doing? Why are you trying to help people who don't need your help?
Why is your head in the clouds? What are you really looking for?"
And so I spent the next few months trying to find out what I was looking for.
And it was looking for, what I was looking for was the things that my sister encouraged in me.
My sister was family, true family. She was a tribe. She accepted me fully for who I was.
She loved me unconditionally. She let me be myself. That's what I was searching for.
I was searching for connection. I was searching for trust. And I found it here in Jacksonville, of all places.
It has been 16 years and I have found an amazing new family of people who care,
people who love me and trust me for all that I am, people who are just as oddly quirky and unique as I am.
I found a thriving spiritual community. I found an amazing theater community.
I found new brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles. And the spirits of my family also began communicating and connecting with me again.
And so now I am grateful. I consider myself more of a flying fish here in Jacksonville,
able to better navigate those waters, able to better navigate myself and how I connect with others.
Thank you, Jacksonville.

Barbara Colaciello
Thank you, Tony. So our next storyteller. Also, I met with her walking in the door at my space called Babs Lab over at the Cork Arts District one night.
We were having a story slam and she showed up. I didn't recognize her. I said, "Is this your first time coming?"
"Yes, I saw this was happening and I decided I'm going to come and tell a story. I like to challenge myself every day."
"Okay, great." So, you know, slams, people get up and tell a story about a theme. They have like seven minutes.
And she told her story and she won the slam against a really amazing competition.
And so I started getting to know her and meeting her and she would come back and work on the craft of storytelling.
Ana is extremely interesting and you will hear her story. She went to FSU. She was in finances.
She's a financial professional and she has a lot of certifications. And she's another amazing woman.
And so please welcome Ana Ng.

Ana Ng
My father grew up in China during the Cultural Revolution.
He was a country boy. He played soccer barefoot and worked in the rice fields.
For dinner, he had white rice with just soy sauce. Protein was for special occasions.
So when he turned 18, he jumped to the opportunity to leave China for a better life.
He migrated to a Central American country called Panama.
And Panama is known for two things. The Panama hats that are actually from Ecuador.
And the Panama Canal that was built by Americans, also known as gringos.
My mother followed a similar path. In Panama, she worked in a bodega.
My dad quickly noticed her. And so he went to this bodega every day, every hour, on the hour just to say hi.
In three months, they got married. They wanted to take it slow.
And nine months later, an eight and a half pound Chinese baby girl was born.
Her name is Ana Ng. It didn't take me long to realize that I looked different.
In school, kids would say that because I have the Asian eyes that I didn't see as good as they did.
This little girl said that Asian kids don't have nipples. So I go to the pee-pee room with two other six-year-olds,
straight myself, to show that I, in fact, have them.
Another kid asked, "Do you know kung fu?" "Yeah, I know kung fu, yes."
I felt like I was living this double life that I had this facade putting up.
At home, I'm Chinese. My parents are Chinese. We speak Cantonese. We use chopsticks.
Everyone in my family can do the Asian squat. Normal, like, everyone does it, right?
Outside of the house, however, I was a different persona. I am Latina. I'm surrounded by Latinos.
We speak Español. We dance merengue. We listen to reggaeton.
I thought that this is who I am. Whenever I talk to someone new, this will happen.
Wow. [speaking Spanish]
You speak Spanish perfectly. [speaking Spanish]
Where do you learn it? How do you learn it? I learn it how you learn it. How do you learn it?
This constant Q&A reminded me that I'm not like everyone else. I'm different.
And I'm not expected to be here. I don't belong here. This is someone else's territory.
Fast forward to fifth grade. I'm ten years old. I'm having dinner with my family.
And my dad puts down his chopsticks, and he has an announcement.
[speaking Chinese]
There is this great business opportunity in China. And kids, we are moving to China next month.
In the middle of the school year, I don't know anything about China, and I don't have Wikipedia.
But what I do think maybe is that everyone will look like me, and there will be no more Q&A,
no more staring, and I will just fit right in.
We pack up our suitcases, we say bye to our friends, and we hop on a plane,
and we land on the other side of the planet.
We are in China, a country of a billion people and 300 languages and dialects.
The official language is Mandarin. My parents are from southern China, and we speak Cantonese.
And that means that I don't speak a s*** of Mandarin.
And I don't know a s*** of the Chinese characters. These little doodles? Eh, not me.
So even though I'm already in fifth grade in Panama, because I didn't know anything, I didn't know the language,
in China I was placed in first grade with a bunch of six-year-old babies.
I feel like I'm Gandalf walking into a room of little Frodo's.
And six-year-olds, as you might know, have tons and tons of questions.
[speaking Mandarin]
"Are you repeating first grade? How old are you? Are you a dumb kid?"
I lived in China for three years. And during that time, no matter how many Chinese friends I made,
no matter how much Chinese I learned, teachers and classmates always saw me as the foreign kid.
I am constantly reminded that this is not my place. I'm not from here. I don't belong here.
This is someone else's territory. Fast forward to fourth grade in China. I'm already 14 years old.
I went through puberty on my own with no one to relate to because everyone was still drinking milk from their mothers.
And I had dinner with my parents. My dad puts down his chopstick and has another announcement.
[speaking Mandarin]
So the great business opportunity that we came to China for was a con. And we are moving back to Panama.
All right, then. Pack up the suitcases, say bye to friends, hop on an airplane, and we land on the other side of the planet.
We are back to Panama.
I hadn't spoken Spanish in three years. So I forgot all of it. I didn't know s*** Spanish.
It was like deja vu all over again, learning a new language, having to adjust to the culture, doing the whole facade, the double live, the Q&A.
Again, I'm reminded that I am just I wasn't from here. I'm still not from here. This is not where I belong.
Eventually, I finished high school in Panama. And my mother has a master plan for me.
And the master plan is to not depend on a man, to be self-sufficient. And how are we going to do it? By getting a college education.
Florida State University has a campus in Panama, and I signed up as a first generation college student.
And I pay for my own tuition. And it's not because I have a sugar daddy.
It's because I work my ass off as a Toyota salesperson and I have two responsibilities.
Number one, look cute. Number two, shove Toyota Corollas and RAV4s down people's throats.
And I am very good at it. Let me tell an industry secret with you.
Take notes, because you're not you're going to be able to monetize this. Make your tickets work.
I know you guys work hard for these tickets. And the secret is that people like money.
And they love it when it's free. So how do we monetize it? By raising the price of the vehicle for $1,000.
And then when we close the sale, we give these customers $1,000 free money back to them.
And so we call this the cashback. And people love those cashbacks. Oh yes, they do.
Two years fly by. I sell tons of cars. I'm probably, humble bragging, the richest 22-year-old in the entire household.
You can fact check that. And I have my associate's degree from FSU Panama.
So what's next? I'm glad you asked. The American dream, of course.
I quit my job. I sell my telephone number to my colleague because people were bidding for it.
And say bye to friends. Pack my suitcase. Hop on a plane. And I land in the United States of America.
In college, I do everything. I joined the Hispanic Latino Student Union and with them,
I dance merengue bachata salsa and the Cuban reda. I joined the Asian American Student Union and I fold origamis and make these rice paper lanterns.
I am loving the diversity. And I think maybe America's where I belong. Not so fast.
See, the Chinese Student Association that I'm also part of, they get together to celebrate Chinese holidays.
And there are tons of holidays and they celebrate with food, specifically potlucks.
Now, I know some of my friends are here. They know that I love potlucks.
So you can imagine how devastated I am when I find out that I am not invited to those potlucks.
I know I cried three times. So I pick up the phone.
And call someone.
Do you know why they don't invite me to these potlucks? Hey, Ana, no offense, but you're not Chinese enough.
Wow. I'm not Chinese enough.
Maybe I should just stop trying to fit in. That's it. I give up.
Where was I? Oh, yes, trying to fit in. What I should be doing is go shopping.
I hear about this place where shopping is a pleasure. You know what that place is? Yes, it's Walmart.
So I go to Walmart. I grab this bag of pistachios, which I love.
I go to the cash register with my brand new American debit card.
And the cashier lady says, do you want cash back?
What? Yes. How much can I get? Up to $100.
For a transaction?
OK, so by buying this bag of lightly salted pistachios, I qualify for a $100 cash back.
This is the American dream.
The friend who gives me the right walks over and says, "Ana, is everything all right? There are tons of people behind you.
Do you know that they offered cashbacks?
Oh, is that what you're trying to do? I mean, why is it taking so long?
It's free money. Sorry, just one second.
Ana, it's not free money. This is a debit card and this is an ATM. So this is your own money.
So it's not cash back. The American dream is a scheme.
I have never felt so embarrassed and naive in my entire life. Back home, we don't mix banking services with pistachios.
Again, I'm reminded that this is not your place. You don't understand us. You're an outsider. You don't belong here.
This is someone else's territory.
So according to people, I'm not Panamanian enough. I'm not Chinese enough. And I'm definitely not American.
So who am I really? The variety of experiences and perspectives that my diverse cultural background has brought to my life
has more than made up for the feelings of lack of belongings that I have gone through throughout my life.
I embrace my life. I embrace who I am. And I don't want to be anyone else.
I love being this chameleon fish and go instead of bar hopping, I go fish ball hopping.
It makes my life colorful and interesting. And it's one of the reasons why I'm on this stage tonight.
And I wouldn't have changed a thing about it. The reality is I am Panamanian.
I am Chinese. And I'm also becoming an American in 2024.
Thank you.

Barbara Colaciello
I just love the cash back. Wouldn't that be great? How much you want? Cash back. Okay.
That was fabulous. Isn't she fabulous?
She speaks like five languages. And obviously she's just a great lady.
Next up is one of the most creative people in Jacksonville as far as I'm concerned.
He... the word dabbles isn't really correct because he actually dives deep into a lot of different areas.
He has his advertising agency called Nueva in San Marco. He's an acclaimed musician.
And he's award winning designer. I also met him walking when he came in and came to a Story Slam.
Told a story because he is a very good storyteller and won that Slam.
So it is amazing. People just show up and they have this ability to wow the audience.
So tonight I give a big round of applause to Grant Nielsen.

Grant Nielson
So the first time I was ever away from my mom, I was about two years old.
And she left me at a neighbor's house while she ran some errands.
And this woman leans down. She's like, "Grant, would you like some apples?"
Now, there are only two real ways to answer this binary question. One of them is yes, please.
Another classic is no, thank you.
But the way that I, two year old Grant, answered that question of do you want some apples was
are there any animal products in it?
You see, my family is that rarest of American families, the vegetarians.
And in 2022, I can hear you saying that's not that big a deal.
Everybody has an alternative diet. And you're right now.
But in 1976, when my parents became vegetarians, it was unheard of.
And they became vegetarians for spiritual reasons. And leaving college, they decided that they were
going to start a farm. And they moved out to the country, out to Mount Pleasant, Iowa.
And they had a little farm there and they were so happy.
Well, they were out there a few years and they were pleasantly surprised by my pregnancy,
or the pregnancy of me.
And so the surprises kept coming because one fateful Christmas day, during the middle of a blizzard,
I was born. And as harrowing as my labor was, they took me back to their little farmhouse.
And we spent the rest of that frigid, blistering winter in a desolated cornfield.
And come spring, my mom turned to my dad, looked him dead in the eye and said,
"We're getting the f*** out of here!"
So we bopped around the Midwest a little bit, went to Kansas, Missouri.
And I was, I guess, three. And it was my mom's 30th birthday.
And she meets my dad as he's coming home from work and she meets him at the front door.
And she says, "Grant has chicken pox." And he says, "Great, awesome.
Well, I just lost my job and the company who owns our house has given us two weeks to get out."
So the Nielsen's were on the move again. And this time they widened the search a little bit.
They said, "You know, a lot of our family has gone from the Midwest down to Florida.
We know it's warm down there. It's not going to be icy and snowy and desolate down there.
So after searching around for a job, my dad relocated us here to Jacksonville, the beef capital of Florida.
And we got a quaint little house in southern Mandarin. And you know, it was lovely.
But in 1986, you know, as I mentioned, my parents became vegetarians for spiritual reasons.
We don't go to church. We didn't eat meat.
We weren't into sports or fishing or any of the other southern traditions.
And so imagine southern Mandarin in the mid 80s, a community so lacking in diversity that we were the most exotic people there.
And as I said, people are nice. People were kind. They didn't understand us, but they tried hard.
For the most part, they were confused by our lifestyle and just sort of assumed like we were in a cult or something.
There was a lot of that. There was a lot of like, "Oh, well, we don't understand what your people eat or, you know, your traditions."
I'm like, "I don't have any. We don't have any traditions. We just don't eat meat."
And, you know, the number of times that we were, you know, like, "Well, are you not in a cult, though?
Can you really say that's not a cult?" I'm like, "I can promise you there's no cult."
But growing up, you know, was interesting in the south.
And, you know, I recall one time I was six years old and I was at a neighbor's house and his mom was like, "Grant, would you like a burrito?"
Now, as I said, I was pretty well trained to ask for animal products, but six-year-old Grant was wiser than two-year-old Grant.
And he knew there's only two things that a burrito means. That's refried beans and cheese.
So I was like, "Heck yes, I want a burrito."
And so, you know, she makes a microwave burrito and I'm eating it.
And I'm eating this. I'm like, "Miss Oakland, these beans taste funny. These beans taste weird."
And she's like, "Oh, honey, that's a beef burrito."
And my eyes must have looked like Shelley Duvall in The Shining because I was mortified.
So the next thing that happens is my mom gets a call and it's Miss Oakland and my mom's like, "What's going -- what's on -- what's happening?"
And she's like, "Grant is freaking out. He's screaming, he's crying, he's saying something about not eating meat?"
And my mom's like, "Yeah, we're vegetarians. What did he eat?"
She's like, "A burrito, a beef burrito."
And my mom's like, "Okay, I'm on my way."
So she picks me up, right? I'm inconsolable.
We go home. We go home, she sits me down. She's like, "All right, calm down, first of all. You're going to be fine. What happened?"
I was like, "I ate a bologna burrito."
"Okay, well, you probably didn't eat a bologna burrito. Do you mean a beef burrito?"
"No, it was a bologna burrito."
Inconsolable.
She calms me down. She's like, "You're going to be fine. It doesn't matter what you ate. Do you feel bad?"
I was like, "No, I feel okay." And she's like, "Then you're going to be fine."
I'm like, "I'm not in trouble?"
She's like, "Oh, sweetheart, no."
And my dad got home, and I'm sure they had a good laugh about the bologna burrito bit,
but I was, I don't want to say traumatized, but I would be years before I would ever slip up again about meat.
I was, you know, this was my identity. I was a vegetarian. I was not interested in dabbling in meat.
And, you know, though our community was kind, they were nice. They tried really hard.
Parents, adults are kind, but kids are cruel.
And, you know, between being a vegetarian and not having that congregation, you know, and we didn't go to church,
I didn't have that community, that faith community.
And I was the kid that, at recess, I was out there with my sketch pad and my inhaler because, of course, I had asthma.
I couldn't go out for sports.
And so, you know, I'd spent most of my time by myself, you know.
Not hated, but not really accepted either.
And, you know, I took that time and I invested in creative pursuits.
You know, I loved visual art. I loved music.
When I was in seventh grade, I started my first band.
And when I was in eighth grade, we played our first show.
And by the time I was in high school, I was in a touring group, moving all over the country.
And I was performing on huge stages, and I loved performing, and I loved creating.
And I, you know, I started young and I just moved straight into that as a vocation.
And I turned these things into jobs.
And I learned about marketing and promotion and design.
And, you know, I worked on these large-scale events throughout the Southeast.
And eventually, I even started a brick and mortar marketing agency with my business partner in San Marco.
And now I get to do this stuff all day long, every day.
And I couldn't... I feel so lucky and so fortunate about that.
But I think I owe a lot of that to that otherness from my childhood.
I owe a lot to that having not quite fit in, not quite accepted.
And, you know, I think I've realized that there's a lot of strength in standing out.
There's power in being unique.
And throughout the years, you know, as I gained agency, as I realized that power,
I've been able to bring other misfits along with me.
People that are good at seeing outside the box and thinking of things creatively.
And, you know, now I have a son. He's nine.
And he's also one of those weirdos.
And he loves being weird. He loves being different.
He has no interest in fitting in.
And I love that about him.
And so, you know, I look at my life and I think, you know, if you're one of those fish
that's been yanked out of your environment and you feel stuck somewhere else,
I say lean into that uniqueness.
Because I think you'll be surprised how quickly you can grow legs.
Thank you.
[Applause]
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David Luckin
The live performances of Untold Stories at the Florida Theatre were originally recorded by Jeremy Moore and Eric Stansfield.
Saul Lucio is the technical director of the Florida Theatre.
The Untold Stories broadcast and podcast was produced by Brady Corum and Ray Hollister.
[Music]
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