Theatre changed my life.

That’s probably not shocking considering the company I keep, and the probable readers of this paper. Most of us are here because the arts answered questions we didn’t know we had, took us places we had been too scared to reach for.

I felt like I didn’t fit in, my parents didn’t get me, I needed an outlet for feelings I didn’t understand or I was going to explode. Theatre gave me a voice that allowed me to be who I really was. I won’t waste too many words on that, because half the people here have similar stories to tell that are far more profound—of how the Fringe is their home and how being in theatre has made them who and what they are. I have at least a dozen friends who can tell you they met their partners, the loves of their lives, somehow or another via the Fringe Festival.

“By 1995, I had volunteered and attended the past few years of the Winnipeg Fringe and that summer I performed in my first show.

“That winter I was out for a friend’s birthday and was seated across from a girl I had never met. We made small talk and I could see the familiar look in her eyes of ‘I’m not interested in this guy,’ (I was very used to that look) until something she said made me reply, ‘You went to the Fringe this summer? I did a show!’ She leaned forward and her eyes lit up. ‘Really? What show? I was going to go see that one but didn’t make it!’

“We chatted the rest of the night, she drove me home, and I gathered enough courage to say ‘Some guys I know are in an improv group and doing a show on Tuesday, do you want to go?’ From that first date came 20 years together, 11 years of marriage, 2 wonderful sons and over a dozen Fringe shows between the two of us.” (Josh Knazan)

So many of us talk about our Fringe family and how important all these wonderful people are to us, even if we only see them once a year. It brings to mind all the real families that have made this festival home.

“Fringe for me started 21 years ago, but it really started 13 summers ago. I was performing in a Joseph Aragon show, and bouncing my 5-month-old baby girl on my knee in the beer tent. I was talking with Joseph about this crazy, silly idea he had for a musical. With vampires.

“Now, 13 summers later, I’m still having fun, throwing out crazy silly musicals with my best friend; but this year, that beer-tent baby is acting in it. She’s a Fringe baby all the way—and loves this time of year and all the experiences that come with it.

“If she takes one thing away from her Fringe experiences, I think it will always be the sense of teamwork and togetherness that Fringe embodies.” (Heather Madill)

We all have stories to share of how important this festival is and how theatre has helped us, saved us, so mine is nothing new. But a big part of what the Fringe has done for me is how the Jenny Revue saved me.

I’ve never told Coral and Michelle this, but they offered me a branch to grab onto during one of the worst times of my life. I had spent a year in Australia, but that and the relationship that took me there ended very badly, very quickly. My flight home took me to Vancouver, despondent and in debt up to my ears. I had to borrow money from my sister to find food and a roof there long enough to get a flight back to Winnipeg, also on her dime. And so I returned, for the first time in over ten years, to the charity of my parents home in Beausejour, alone, with no job, my debt now bubbling up over my head, and more depressed than I’ve ever been.

“But at least I‘m back in time for the Fringe,” I consoled myself. Except that I couldn’t afford to see any shows, and the friends I had hoped would cheer me up had mostly moved on to other things in the year I’d been away. (The exception to that being George, Alan and Audra, whose charity and friendship at that time I will never forget.)

Then one night at the King’s Head found me at a table with the folks from the Jenny Revue. We had gotten to know each other a little bit in previous years, at least enough that they were happy to let me help them type up reviews, which back then all came scribbled illegibly on scraps of paper. They asked if I had anything to review, but I told them honestly I had seen nothing due to my financial situation (except for Improvision, who had comped me in twice by then). They very graciously offered me a media pass, for a day, if I could see the list of shows they gave me that had not been reviewed yet. And they bought me a beer.

Such small gestures. And really they were helping themselves more than they were helping me. But they invited me into their family and made me belong to something. I was home.

The Jenny Revue has such a rich history in this festival. It helps us create a community that we can all be a part of rather than just a collection of plays. We are performers, audience members, reviewers, and friends. We all have voices, and we are all ready to hear them, and the Jenny has helped me find a voice here. And a family.

Shawn Kowalke