A Special Note From CO-Founder Jenna Worsham
A few weeks ago, Basil and I had a planning meeting at Walhalla for our fall season. We sat on the back porch, a hint of fall in the air around us, discussing artists and making a list of the needs-doing around the farm. Everything from painting the chicken coop to clearing out the studio barn to meal planning.While we worked, Basil’s daughter, barefoot, walked around picking grass and stealing my pens. The corn field kept rustling close by in the pre-autumn wind, a neighbor worked on the lawn behind us, and Ely (Basil’s wife, also an artist and comedy writer), cooked the beginnings of dinner inside. With the smell of fresh vegetables drifting out through the screen door, I couldn’t help but pause a moment and think…somehow, against all odds, I’ve found my way home.
Basil and I were raised in rural places. Our first culture was rural. I think we both discovered queer culture when we moved north, to the city, and were a bit shocked to find a place where so many people were comfortable with who they are— who they loved, and/or how they outwardly expressed their gender. These were people who are not afraid to take of space as LGBTQIA+ humans, and I for one had never met anyone like them before.
I missed home so much when I moved to NYC twelve years ago. But it was a complicated missing, because I knew I would not be welcome, had I chosen to be myself in the place I grew up. If I’d come out at a young age, I would not have been allowed space.
When I think about my young, closeted 16-year-old self growing up on a farm in north Georgia, I don’t think that girl ever could have dreamed up a project like New Roots. A project that seeks space for people like me, like Basil and Ely, in a rural area. A project that says farm and family, core values of country life, are values that queer people also share and deserve, should they choose them.
One of the things I miss most about living in the country is the way people communicate. People were big where I come from, even if their world was small. Many people in the country aren’t afraid to take up space, to tell you a story, or just tell you what they think…even if they do it in a round about way. Although they can be less inclusive than my queer NYC community, I’ve witnessed many rural communities that share a willingness for people to take up space and express themselves, to own and be proud of where we come from. Bringing these two seemingly disparate communities together?
That’s what New Roots is all about.
Imagine the possibilities. The pride.
We are. And we’re looking forward to making those possibilities a reality, one residency at a time.
