Phoebe Potts Dreams of Chaos
On storytelling, comedy, and the realness of life itself.
Dreams of Chaos is a series of Q&As with folks about how they engage with chaos in their work. Maybe they love the chaos and use it as an engine for creativity. Maybe they struggle with the indefinite and are trying to wrangle it however they can. Whatever it is — I’m here for it and fascinated with the many permutations of chaos in folks’ lives. Let’s dive in, shall we?
In 2015, I was very much a lost soul. I’d conquered something insurmountable the year before: graduating from Berklee College of Music with honors. This, despite not having enough money to even attend at the outset and, therefore, working every possible hour to make ends meet. I like to joke that I worked at every Hebrew school in the Boston area while I was at Berklee and, like many jokes, it’s the little bit of truth that makes it sting.
But that was last year. Now I was a Graduate and by golly, I was done. I quit every last school and set to work finding other work. Only problem was, I had no skills, and my degree in classical composition1 turned out to offer few career options. Plus, that was the year of the Boston snowpocalypse, wherein we got eight feet of snow in half as many weeks. My plans fell apart like an undercooked souffle.
The city was frozen. Like, really frozen. People were skiing to work, those who could. Emotionally speaking, I was frozen, too2. Would I ever find my path? Would I live in this cursed Narnia of a town forever? What was this hard-won degree worth, anyway?
It was then, as I was achieving record depths of self-pity and wallowing, that I met Phoebe Potts. She probably doesn’t know this, but she offered me a life-raft, and I’m still grateful for it.
Phoebe is a self-described Professional Jew, and it was in this capacity that she offered me a gig. Would I like to come teach a five-week seminar on Jewish music at Temple Ahavat Achim in Gloucester, MA?
Hell yes I would. I agreed right away, even though it meant driving an hour north every Sunday morning. In ice. At 6:30 am.
It was one of the best teaching gigs I’ve ever had. Hands down.
Phoebe was open to all my crazy ideas about improvisation and encouraging kids to make up their own songs. She loved the idea of dancing to music, and learning Hebrew through holiday songs. She loved the idea of anything creative, anything that made the kids feel that (a) they belonged at the Temple, it was their home and family and (2) their Judaism was their to inhabit however they felt was right.
The next year, when I would become Director of Education at a Manhattan Hebrew school, I tried to remember everything Phoebe did and do it, too.
Moreover, though, Phoebe is just a warm, smart, welcoming person who you want to spend more time with. And, even after all those years in Massachusetts, she’s still got that Brooklyn edge to her. You’re always laughing with Phoebe, but you’re also always learning something about life itself. That’s true whether you’re sharing a cup of coffee, reading her outstanding memoir Good Eggs (about her struggles with fertility), watching her one-woman show Too Fat for China (about the very crazy path to adopting her son from Ethiopia), or attending a Hebrew school staff meeting.
She’s a goddamn gem.
Recently, I went to see Phoebe’s show in New York City. It’s cliche to say I laughed and cried, but it’s also true. I think everyone should know about her and her work — it’s funny, and real, and hard, and complicated, and messy, and loving. Like life.
So, without further ado, here are Phoebe’s answers to my Dreams of Chaos questionnaire. I hope you love them as much as I did, and for goodness sake, go watch her show and buy her book!
How would you describe yourself and the work you do?
I’m a person from Brooklyn who lives in Massachusetts, in part because it has tougher gun laws and accessible health insurance for all. I’m a Professional Jew to pay the bills and I’m an artist and performer. I tell stories about myself, most recently in a solo show called “Too Fat for China” about the business of adoption and my part in it.
Can you share about how your path led you to the work you do today?
Of course! If you wanted the warm sun of my parents love to shine on you, you had to tell a good story. You were not allowed to say your day was “good” or that everything was “fine.” I got good at getting specific in my stories — and impersonating animals, teachers, and other children. I crave talking to other people about what is happening to me because it helps me understand my experience if I can hear it told out loud. After drawing cartoons about my daily struggles, I turned to performing my stories with my comix on stage as a way to both show and tell.
Where do you look for inspiration when you’re feeling tapped out?
I love watching stand up comedians from the comfort of my couch on a warm screen. I also love looking at animals. Vacuuming is very organizing for me when I am depleted or stuck.
What gets you up in the morning?
My son. The sun. My hips, who cry to be taken to the sea.
What’s something surprising you’ve done or learned that’s changed how you show up in the world?
Surprising to me? That as kids we were right. That all kids are right. That sharing and fairness and justice and play and fun with friends rest are more important than anything else. Also, I was right to be angry as a teenager and a college student. I was right to be enraged at the systems in power. I was starting to believe that feelings and sharing and touchy feely stuff was less than, but now I know that that stuff is good and true and they are trying to dehumanize us. The kids are right. This shit isn’t fair and isn’t working.
What’s something you wish you could engage in more if, you know, life and all that didn’t get in the way?
I wish I could snorkel more. I like visiting another world without walls. Or tickets. Or money changing hands. Or people for that matter. I like surprising the crabs and keeping a polite distance from the flounder. I like that the water is medicinal and my body isn’t an imposition in it. I like the way I feel after.
I also wish I could make stuff (skits, musicals, radio plays, manifestos) for and with other people without it being a business venture or a non-profit. I would like those people I do this with to not just be old and rich, because the old and rich are among the only people who get to enjoy the art that is actually made for everyone.
Here at the Chaos Palace, we’re exploring how inviting messiness into our lives can be a vehicle for curiosity and creativity. How does chaos inform what you do, if at all?
I would say the most untidy thing in my life is the feelings that I have about anything at any given time. I’m very interested in them — I’m interested in the feelings my son has especially, because with a yet-to-harden frontal cortex they spill out a lot, loudly and with passion. I find these feelings, like weather patterns, to be what makes me wonder about what we want and what we need. The energy from those feelings, and the desire to understand them, are what propels me to write and draw and perform.
How does chaos inform your non-work life?
There is no non-work life.
When does messiness feel like it’s too much? What do you do to rein it in when necessary?
It’s hard to withstand the rotten feelings of self-loathing, or the deep sadness of loss. I want it to move along. I find watching movies and TV shows with Black characters who have money to be very soothing. I mean, I know there is a Black middle class in reality, but it’s nice to see images of Black people not getting beaten up and killed for a minute.
How has your creative work informed the way you think about the world? And, for that matter, how has the experience of living in the world influenced your creative work?
Sometimes I think my work performs a service: I’m helping white people see our role in the machine. I know that by going public with my work I’ve got to be conscious of what I am saying and where I am coming from, so I pay close attention to the privilege of whiteness and of growing up with money that flavors my words. I’m not talking about silencing myself, I’m talking about how the public aspect of my work makes me more vigilant about being self-aware.
Also, I think by going public I have learned that I’m pretty good at this and that there is lots of mediocre stuff out here. I want my work to be excellent and important, but more than that I just want to be able to share my work. So, striving for excellence is ok, but the fear of making something lousy should not hold me back.
Welcome to the Chaos Palace is the space where I write about ADHD, queerness, Judaism, and how to navigate the mess that is the world. You can support my work by sharing this post with others, subscribing, or just clicking the like button. Or just read! That’s huge, too.
with a minor in Conducting!
Also physically speaking. Did you know eyeballs can freeze if you don’t move them in the frigid temps while waiting for a train that’s not going to come?