Welcome BackStage, Good Listener!

This is a space for Ravyn and I to share some of our behind the scenes process of hosting our next event together, and just our lives in general, the things we’re working through and thinking about, and how all of that ties into this practise and dream of abolitionist friendships – including breaking down, what the heck that even means.

Some of this started because, as long time friends – we’ve been talking about doing something like this for a minute. We have many epic conversations, whether it’s sitting on the couch and talking for hours, or sending long voice memos – you know the kind where it’s like, hey friend I was just thinking about something, wanted to run it by you quickly, or even like – was just thinking about you and wanted to tell you about my day, and somehow you end up with a 20 minute podcast episode. Over the years there are so many times we’ve been talking and one of us says something brilliant, or funny, and we’re like, oh my god everyone needs to hear this conversation!

But I want to give you more context as to why we’re sharing this particular conversation now. I, Shaunga Tagore, that’s me, have been building this massive research project that is now being shared via my vision for a Village Artist Grant System, and quite frankly my personal non-negotiable need for some time of Village Funding System to resource my life, and the truth of what it looks like, knowing that Village Funding could also offer drastically positive impact for millions of people, if we figure out how to do it right.

The campaign that Ravyn and I running revolves around this project. I recently shared a full introduction to my vision on my website this past September 2025, along with an entry portal to my Community Garden for folks who want to indicate and invest interest in building a Village Funding practise together. In the entry portal, I included some extra storytelling medicine bundles from my apothecary. One of those bundles is called: “Break-Ups that Define You.”

So, my storytelling revolves around what I call my Live Multiverse Memoir. It’s my journey as a dreamer, a visionary, and a practised oracle, where I tell my life stories, in collaboration with adventures through the multiverse – travelling backwards and forwards through time, meeting all sorts of characters in the spirit realm, and in parallel dimensions.

One of the main characters in this story is none other than my Future Partner, who I haven’t met yet, but who I do the chatty thing with all the time, in the loving arms of the Multiverse. So, in this particular bundle, I tell a story about the moment that my Future Partner revealed to me, that they actually have seen me in person before, right here in the real world, about 11-12 years ago in 2013.

They said, yeah I just happened to come across an advertisement for a show called Making a Stage a Stage for Our Stories, organized by a bunch of QTBIPOCS in Toronto aka Tkaronto – that’s the Indigenous Mohawk name for Toronto. This performance showcase was part of the first official national dance conference planned for and by QTBIPOC folks. Bringing together performers, teachers, students, artists invested in growing a movement for queer and trans folks and Black, Indigenous, People of Colour, Disabled, Survivors – to feel like, yeah it is possible for us to have a career in the arts, and we don’t have to depend on these colonial arts industries to have the life we want as artists and people – we can literally Make Our Own Stages.

This initiative was organized by ILL NANA DiverseCity Dance Company, of which Ravyn is a founding member, along with our friend Sze-Yang and there have been a handful of folks over the years who have been part of ILL NANA, and who helped make Making a Stage for Our Stories a reality, including myself. And I want to say that ILL NANA is not just a dance company, they changed so many people’s lives in this city and beyond. Free, pay what you can dance classes, intensive programs, mentorships for over a decade via their phenomenal program Right to Dance, which is where I met Ravyn.

Before I knew Ravyn and Sze-Yang personally, I was obsessed with ILL NANA’s website. At some point on their website they had written – we just wrote a grant for a 2-month intensive dance program for queer people, we’ll keep you updated. So I basically stalked their website, and like refreshed it every day, until they finally updated it with another message: “we got the grant!” Then I applied for that first program, I walked into that room, and the rest they say is history.

I became a working artist, a producer, a playwright, a director – at the same time I began as an astrologer in queer community, and all of that unlocked the doors to a deeper ancestral healing journey, and the person who speaks in front of you today. So many huge, huge changes, revolutionary movements, by no exaggerations, major healing initiations, and somehow my friendship with Ravyn and Sze-Yang survived all of that.

But going back to what I was saying about my Future Partner. In 2013 the show we produced ended up falling on my birthday in June, and I performed this epic singing and dance piece to close the show, and the entire audience gave me a standing ovation and sang me happy birthday at the end. It was such a huge moment of joy – but this past year, my Future Partner who I had been talking to for years, told me that they were actually at that show in the audience. That was the first time they ever saw me in person. And they knew who I was. They knew who we were to each other. They felt, with complete certainty, the future that we could have together. But they didn’t come and talk to me, not that night. Why not?

Well, that’s the story that I tell in that whole medicine bundle – why they made that choice to walk away that night, without a hello. In other words, why we do or don’t start particular relationships at certain moments in time.

In that medicine bundle, I included a very small clip of that night, of me finishing my performance, and the audience singing me happy birthday. For folks who go through that bundle, I just wanted you to have a snippet of what that moment felt like, because it captured on video.

So, I did that, and I released it. Then, sometime in September, Ravyn, Sze-Yang and I were hanging out one evening and we had a conversation that took me for a pause, because I had realized I had done something in that medicine bundle.

There was someone else in the video, the host of the event, the person who said: “come on audience, let’s sing Shaunga happy birthday!” That person is a Black woman who has done incredible, life changing work for liberation communities for many years, someone who went through a public break-up, and was called out, and even “cancelled” by many folks in community for transphobia.

So, I had to take a pause, because I had to think about what it means for me to hold space responsibly and generously toward the matters I really care about on my own platform. I have a responsibility to communicate with my audience – what are my values around this kind of thing. What is my process. Where do I stand? What do I believe?

In some ways, my first instinct to just not comment at all because I know very little about anything that happened. I’ve always respected this person’s work, but I hadn’t followed them closely for many years.

I have a lot of compassion for people who go through public break-ups, especially queer and trans people. I myself have gone through multiple kinds of public break-ups: romantic, friendship, and also creative collaborator break-ups. Creative Collaborator break-ups are so fucking deep, and we don’t talk about it enough. All of it is messy. And our audiences and communities, they get messy, when they witness our messy break-ups. We’re all learning, we’re all trying to heal or get our needs met in some way, we’ve all hurt someone bad. And sometimes in our lowest moments, the day that we’re at our most vulnerable, and the worst part of us comes out…for many of us, those moments stay in private. But for some of us, that lowest moment is broadcasted all over the internet for millions of people to cast judgement, give their opinion and speak passionately about what this person does or doesn’t deserve moving forward.

You may or may not know me, but I’ve dedicated my life, 41 years, to helping people heal genuinely, survivors and perpetrators. I don’t condone abusive language or actions, even in low moments, but I will continue to dedicate my time to address the root cause of all of this, and build genuine conditions that make intimate and wide scale transformation possible.

That is literally what this Village Funding project is about, because we need way more money circulating in our communities to actually build the conditions that can hold the ancestral enormity, and multiverse truth of what we’re actually transforming.

I decided to address this, the way I am right now, especially because Ravyn and I are hosting this event called TRANS-ALIVELIHOOD. So I didn’t feel right to just drop the video in there without any conversation. I had a decision to make – am I going to take that video down, or am I going to leave it there and say something.

I sent a voice message to Ravyn at the time, working through my thoughts and asking for her opinion. The conversation we had back and forth through voice memo was really generative. It doesn’t lead toward any right or wrong answers, but rather offers something of how to be in deep ongoing inquiry of how to be good to each other during times like these. How to hold enormous complexity while building, practising and moving forward abolitionist values. I think the conversation we have offers something heartfelt and needed for our times, so I did a little editing and we’re sharing it with you.

But on that note, I want to say a couple things: 1 – this is not about gossip, period. I’m not sharing this so y’all can google who I’m actually talking about and get all the tea. Even though, those of you who go through my Community Garden will obviously see the video and see who I’m talking about. But if you just listen to these voice notes BackStage, you won’t know who I’m talking about, because I blur out all the names.

If it’s not about gossip, it is about something I do really believe in – that it is important to share with each other, our process, and what we learn as we’re working through it. In many ways, we won’t survive without doing this. In many ways, doing this has the potential of creating so much more healing and thriving between us.

Number two: a big takeaway I’m sitting with is the discernment between friendship and community. There’s a difference in consideration between inviting you to my home for a dinner party and also inviting someone I know has been abusive to you. That’s different than hosting a community project, for a particular purpose, and inviting folks in who I may or may not know have major conflict with one another, of which I may or may not know any of the details. There are no inherent right or wrong answers here, but just vastly different considerations and choices we make when hosting these spaces.

On that vein I will say, that for the particular video I posted, I acknowledge that some or many people might watch the video who have a direct experience with that person. I honour your experience, especially if you have a complicated relationship to the situation. I certainly do not condone the ways you may have experienced harm by her or anyone. In the event that this person sees this project, I will say first and foremost I protect your humanity. I strive to do that every single day, with everyone and everything, including myself. Sometimes the way I do that might look really confusing, to a lot of people. And I think that’s true for a lot of people.

So, there’s friendship, then there’s community, however how we hold space for complicated histories or conflict in dedicated community projects is also a different than recognizing the ways that the work we’ve poured into community has impacted one another, and is a part of one another, whether we work closely or not.

That’s really what I’m holding here in this space, with this video. As you’ll see in my convo with Ravyn, this person was instrumental in ensuring that ILL NANA received that very first grant to do their revolutionary dance programming, which ended up changing my life definitively. Nothing I am or do today, would have transpired in the same way, without that grant.

Including what I offer you today, which is this Village Artist Granting System that doesn’t have to rely on playing by the rules of non profits, and corporations, and colonial governments and all the rest. This is a Miracle that I hold, and it is only possible because these friends DID get a grant through that system once upon a time.

While there are many, many people whose individual contributions have made it possible for me to exist and live and be who I am…this specific person in this specific video, is most certainly one of them. Not in a vague way like six degrees of separation, but like a direct impact. Even though I had very little contact with her over the years.

That means something to me. That moment captured on video, really means something to me. That’s the spirit of what came through my conversation with Ravyn. At some point Ravyn said – “our mistakes don’t erase what we’ve done for each other.”

That doesn’t mean condoning harm. But it does mean finding a way to move and to hold, as we traverse these various realms of intimacy, friendship, community, liberation, the giant and the small weaving through all of it.

What this also becomes is archival work. Documentation. Oral history. Two queer and trans people are telling you – this is what we did. This is what we had in a moment in time. This is what was on our mind today. We share – so that we don’t disappear. So our descendants can find us. So they don’t have to repeat our mistakes.

For me, personally – even when you go out into the most distant forms of community, it does still boil down to friendship. None of our dreams for liberation will happen without friendship. Our friendship with ourselves, how we extend that to our friendship with the planet. Which changes the game in terms of how capable and willing we are to love each other well, from afar, up close, in private, out loud and in public. It is as Simple and Confusing as that – Friendship.

So, Ravyn and I invite you to hang out backstage with us. And please, check out our event. Explore the information I have about Village Funding. And please, share, share, share with your people as you feel called.

We will continue to offer pieces of our conversations with you as we run this campaign to generate our very first Village Raised Artist Grant. And…we’ve decided to name our little series – “a friendship that can withstand the revolution.”

Hey Good Listeners,

I’m back, Ravyn’s going to share a welcome message in a second, but I first wanted to offer a little follow up note and some space-keeping. I really want to handle this topic with as much care as I can in the way I host this space. I want to address what it means for me to talk about something that happened in public, that had nothing to do with me, and how to do this without playing into any kind of exploitation. Like, I’m not trying to exploit this break up to get you to sign up for my thing. Rather, addressing this topic was a necessary part of my process of creating this offering. Sharing this process with you, is a way to create safety and understanding together.

I found myself in a position where I wanted to share an incredibly special moment from my life with you. It’s my story to tell about myself, but there was someone else on stage with me that night who I also needed to recognize…not just for her presence, but for her contribution to community that positively impacted my life.

However, as soon as I decided to do that, I had to address the gaping wound, ie this public break-up, conscious of the fact that many people entering my space might have a loaded relationship with that. And I’m dedicated to creating a safe space for trans people in particular, especially as I am a multi-gendered person.

But on a wider perspective, Ravyn, I’m thinking about the moments where you or I may be on stage, say on a panel, and we’re telling a story about our lives, and we name someone who has made a positive impact on us, and we celebrate them and love up on them. And the audience starts to shuffle because they may have experienced harm or witnessed something harmful from that person…this could happen to anyone of us, and Ravyn – this HAS happened to both of us on different occasions.

That brings me to the question: how do we speak about the positive impact people have had on our lives while also recognizing that people have and continue to do harm? Because we don’t have a practise around this. What happens is that people hear the celebration and they get upset, they feel like their pain isn’t being heard. They get extra motivated to tear the person down, and sometimes in ways that severely impacts their livelihood. Their ability to pay rent or find a job, or be a parent to their children, or stay alive. People can develop deep vendettas to make sure everyone knows that person can’t be trusted, which builds a culture where we never celebrate each other. We never encourage people’s success and accomplishments. I get it, because we live in a culture that glorifies abuse, some people are always abusing and always celebrated…but…we also have permission to amplify anti-Blackness or transphobia or queer and bi-phobia or ableism, or misogyny and racism when it comes to who we are so willing to tear down and ensure never gets celebrated.

Speaking of our event that we’re hosting – TRANS ALIVELIHOOD – how can we ignore the fact that a culture that refuses to celebrate each other out loud and in public, if you’re someone who keeps pouring your heart into community, and you never get celebrated, your accomplishments never get recognized – that in itself gives a lot of trans and femme folks, including myself, to say fuck it I’m on the next space ship outta here, why would I want to be alive for this?

So, the reason I’m putting certain conversations and information behind a paywall is for deeply considered architecture and design of my offerings, meaning safety, protection and space keeping. I am sharing my life experiences with you. I am sharing hard things that have happened to me. I’m sharing beautiful things that have happened to me and most of all, I am required to show you that nothing I do or am is or has ever been alone. I am making intentional decisions when I name relationships anonymously or directly when sharing my life with you. I don’t owe anyone information about my life, I’m sharing it because I want to. I’m sharing my labour with you, labour that deserves financial reciprocity and support.

Plus, when you have to pay for something, you have to make a choice. Like I say to Ravyn in our chapter one conversation, I need to be able to trust my audience to hold these conversations with me, with a comparable level of responsibility, complex, self advocacy, generosity and thoughtfulness that Ravyn and I are prepared to offer each other and you.

So when you make the choice to invest your money into sharing a vulnerable conversation with us, you are more likely to be that kind of thoughtful person in the audience. When people in the public eye share things with their audience, we are not a free for all. Some things do belong behind a paywall.

At the end of the day, all I wanted to do is share a video from one of the most important moments of my life, where I was celebrated on stage just for being me, just for being born. But I quickly realized I couldn’t just do that without acknowledging this entire topic. In doing so, I have to think about how this conversation cares for the person in the video, the people in my audience, AND myself AND Ravyn. All of it is hard.

So with that, I’ll throw it to you Ravyn. What are your thoughts? What is your definition of an abolitionist friendship? What is an abolitionist audience? If we are inviting a multi-racial abolitionist audience into our conversation, what are we asking of them?

When I think into your question, what is an abolitionist friendship? I have this desire to describe first, what I believe abolition is, and where it comes from. Abolition is the abolishment of enslavement in all its forms, right?

Abolition is holistic and full in scope. It’s hopeful. It’s desirable. It’s kind and generous and compassionate. Abolition is creative, strategic, artistic, imaginative. Abolition is speculative fiction. It’s irresistible sovereign futures. It’s Ancestor Veneration. It’s Ceremony and protocols. It’s right relations. It’s honouring and dedication. Abolition isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. Abolition is justice. It’s love. Abolition is love.

And when I think of an abolitionist and why I identify as an abolitionist, it’s because lieve it’s my job…no my duty to finish the project that my Ancestors fore bearerers elders and comrades began. Abolitionists are architects of sovereign futures, abolitionists are collaborators and people who understand the need for Rainbow Coalitions. Abolitionists are people who want to live in the free.

And then I think of an abolitionist friendship I think of someone or many someones, who come together to support each other to be the greatest version of humanity that we can be. Someone or many someones who reminds you of your commitment to our more than human relatives, our commitment to practice community, to steward a world our children can be safe in. Someone who is invested in knowing you to the very depths of your deepest darkest oceans.

Someone or many someones who give you hope and who inspire trust and love. I think of my friends. I think of you in the big moments but mostly int he small ones, right? The quiet ones where we sit by Lake Ontario’s edge and watch the water sway. Or we sit front row at our favourite musical movie. We sit in front row at each other’s events and each other’s triumphs. We sit front row at each other’s failures.

We sit in the front row and support each other when we pick up ourselves up and start over again. We don’t hold each other in place. We understand that growth and change is a beautiful part of our relationship and to witness that growth, to be a part of that growth is the gift. You know, my friendships don’t demand my presence in any particular way. I get to show up how I am, who I am, in the state that I am. And I’m held in that compassionately, honestly, truthfully and respectfully. My friendships don’t demand that I become a different person in order to earn their love or communion. You know? My friends see me for who I am and support me for who I want to be. Not who they think I should be or what they believe I should be doing. But who I say I want to be. That to me is true friendship. And Abolitionist friendship is partnership. Yeah, that’s what I believe.

I identify as an abolitionist because I recognize my life here on the planet is deeply committed to the liberation of Black & Indigenous communities, caste-oppressed communities, our non-human relatives and the land as a whole. My personal healing weaves in solidarity with these commitments. My reason for being alive during these times is to see the transformation of earth-destroying paradigms, into a world full of mass collective earth stewardship.

However I recognize that there are different kinds of abolitionist spaces. This is a Spirit-Centered space that prioritizes Ancestor Healing. I recognize that some abolitionist spaces are intentionally not spiritual, and I respect that.

This is a space dedicated to recognizing the ways that Healers, Ceremonialists, and Artists have been central and essential to liberation movements, always – AND we’ve experienced a lot of abuse and exploitation in activist communities. We’re often treated like we just exist for everyone to collapse on, unpaid, and then they make fun of us in public, spread rumours about our “evil” or “ridiculous” spirituality, amplify propaganda that we can’t be trusted, etc.

Moreover, this propaganda is fundamentally rooted in anti-Blackness, and the targeted assault against Black and African Earth-based spiritualities and traditions. When we treat healers in this way – trans, queer, sx workers, disabled, Black women and femmes bear the brunt of such violence.

This is a space for the “Spiritual Abolitionist” to heal from these dynamics. Most importantly, this space is committed to honour the widespread planetary call to remove anti-Blackness from every single lineage. This is not an ask, but a requirement that comes from the planet herself. Every human who lives here, especially those on a spiritual journey, are required to follow this protocol, although many do not.

The task of spiritually removing anti-Blackness from your own personal lineage is a very specific life experience, and it requires massive protection, support and community. The medicine moves through your life in ways that are difficult-impossible to understand if you do not have trusted and wise teachers, peers and Elders who can hold you, see the truth, and offer appropriate guidance.

And – the spiritual process of removing anti-Blackness from the lineage is not well (or at all) understood by people who do not ground their activism in spiritual healing. This is why I prioritize Ancestor healing in everything I do and offer, and I hold my life and choices accountable only to ecosystems that also prioritize a politicized Ancestor healing journey.