Host:  Sarah Austin Jenness

Sarah: [00:00:03] Welcome to The Moth podcast. I'm Sarah Austin Jenness, executive producer of The Moth and your host for this episode. 

Halloween is a time for a lot of things. It's a time for candy, scary movies and spooky lawn decorations. It's a time for kids trick or treating, door-to-door and adults going to parties in perhaps hastily thrown together costumes. If you're in New Orleans, you may be headed to the witches ball, or maybe you're happy to just stay at home and hand out candy. Halloween can also be a time of exploration or declaration, adorning yourself in a way to better show the world who you really are. 

In this episode, we've got two stories about Halloween that bite a little deeper than plastic vampire fangs. First up is Sofya Tamarkin. She told this at a Philadelphia StorySLAM, where theme of the night was Appropriately Spooky. Here's Sofya, live at The Moth. 

[cheers and applause]

Sofya: [00:01:03] So, born in the Soviet Union-- Soviet Union was criticized for many things. I personally criticize it for the lack of sweets, candy and bubblegum. So, when I arrived in 1989, in November, I was really amazed how every office went to had bowls of candy with amazing rappers. And every time I ask, what's going on? Why there's candies everywhere? I was told, “It's Halloween.” So, I'm thinking, is this a person that just runs around [audience laughter] and distributes candies? It's like, Santa Claus? I don't know what everybody's saying. Then, somebody had pity on me and explained that there's a holiday in America where you're given candy. This is like better than winning a million dollars today, for sure. 

So, I'm thinking, when is this going to happen? So, it's in November. So, they're saying October 31st. Are you kidding me? I have to wait 11 months, a deprived child from Soviet Union? Can't they give it to me now? [audience laughter] No, apparently, it's only one day. So, I say, okay, how do I go about it? Some explained, “You have to have a costume.” That's a problem. “And you have to have a special word that you say.” So, we don't speak English. So, somebody explains to me, “You have to say trick or treat.” Well, I don't know what anyone's saying, so I thought, TOT. Okay, whatever works, as long as I get free candy. 

So, I'm waiting and waiting. By in June, I'm thinking, maybe I should try this special phrase. The mailman comes, I go TOT. [audience laughter] He looks at me like, “What is wrong with you?” And I'm thinking, okay, maybe July. I go to school, and there's a teacher that seems kind. I go TOT. Again, nothing. So, I keep on waiting. September comes, and I ask my mom, do we have a costume for me, because I am going to go and collect literally £2,000 of candies. [audience laughter] 

So, my mom is like, “You know, you could be a Red Riding Hood, because we have a red hat from Russia. I'm thinking, okay, maybe this could work. So, I put on a red hat. I'm really dressed up. So, I still don't know what I'm saying, but I knock on the door and a friendly neighbor, I say, TOT. And they're like, “Oh, good. Happy Halloween.” She gives me a miracle, she gives me three candies in my bag. I'm thinking, oh, my God, it's working. So, I start moving really fast from house to house. This is my chance. The next one is in 365 days, and I counted, so it takes a while. 

So, I run around the block. And then, I'm so preoccupied, because I don't know what the holiday's about. I'm getting free candy. It's like, who cares what the holiday is about? So, I like, “Oh, there is a graveyard and a coffin in the middle. Oh, that's not a problem. I'm on a mission to collect candies.” I'm still thinking to myself, I probably should have stopped and like, “Hey, there's a dead person in a coffin.” I didn't know he's wearing a mask. I just tiptoe by the graveyard and knock on the door. No one's opening. And I keep on knocking. The night is still young. Next thing I know, there's this person that was in the coffin who's wearing a mask. He's tiptoeing, and he's standing behind me. I have never experienced such terror in my entire life. [audience laughter] And I've seen communism. [audience laughter] [audience applause] 

But I'm telling you, guys, [chuckles] because I still did not know that this is a game and it's Halloween and the whole thing, I am clutching to my- by this time, probably 90 pounds of candy in my Shoprite bags and my Red Riding Hood hat. I'm starting to run screaming. My parents heard me scream from two miles away. They also don't know what this is about, but this dead person was probably a teenager, and he's really having fun, like no one has ever reacted to his prank like I did. [audience laughter] So, he's really chasing me. We're like marathon runners. I'm not a runner, so my father could not catch up with me. 

So, he tries to meet me the other way. He tries to go around the block the other way, trying to catch me. So, he's going towards me. And I'm like hysterical. I'm just clutching to my candy and he's telling the dead guy, “Stop, stop. That's enough. Please stop.” And finally, he had to pull his mask and show me he's a real person. That was it for the night. I must admit, I needed some homeopathic remedy to calm down. [audience laughter] I just sat there counting my candies till morning. It was like 415 and three bubble-gums. But I had a dilemma I had to deal with for the next 364 days, am I going to do it again or not? It was like, “Ugh, free candy. Fear, real terror.” [audience laughter] 

But then, you know what? It takes much more to scare our Soviet Union girl from collecting candy. So, I still put on my Red Riding Hood hat and I still went. But now, I did not visit the houses that had graveyards. And to be honest with you, I still didn't give up the tradition. So, if someone knocks on your door and they have a Red Riding Hood hat and a Shoprite bag, please open the door and give me candy. [audience laughter] 

[applause]

Sarah: [00:06:53] That was Sofya Tamarkin. Sofia was born in the former Soviet Union, and enjoys sharing her family's immigration stories. She loves to travel the world and appreciates learning about different cultures and people. Sofia believes in bringing light to the world by making people laugh, performing acts of kindness and breaking boundaries between people. 

If you'd like to see a photo of grownup Sophia dressed for Halloween with her family, you'll find it on our website, themoth.org/extras. Halloween can be fun and exciting. But sometimes the pretend fright can turn into something real. 

Our next storyteller is Tricia Ho with a more serious story they told when we partnered with UN Women Asia and the Pacific for an event in Bangkok, Thailand featuring diverse stories from across the region. The theme of the night was Standing up: Stories of Courage and Resilience. Here's Tricia, live at The Moth. 

Tricia: [00:07:55] Halloween is one of my favorite times of the year, because it was the only day that I could express my gender identity without having to face a raised eyebrow or a weird look. So, when my activist friends and I heard that the authorities had signed off on a Halloween event that had drag queens and queer artists on the lineup, despite the rising anti-LGBT sentiment due to the recent elections, we were shocked. 

We were cautious, but ultimately, we were hopeful, because perhaps, after many years of fighting for equality and human rights, that it is starting to make progress. About a thousand people from around the city, even familiar faces from the activist scene, came together for a night of celebration for freedom of expression and to reclaim our place in the conservative country that sought to criminalize, to discredit and demonize the queer community. 

We had just spent the night getting ready in our costumes. Our outfits consist of gender nonconforming features and bright rainbow colors to match the performance that night. For myself, I wore a floral shirt, slacks and a hand drawn beard that took two attempts and many hours to perfect. I looked over to my friend, a queer nonbinary Muslim female dressed in a black lacy top, a leather skirt and a red cape. And beside them was a transwoman friend wearing a beautiful summer dress and makeup. We were so excited. 

It was a warm night in Chinatown, as my friends and I arrived at the venue. We have been anticipating this for weeks. As I look out to see a large crowd of people through the sea of color, I thought to myself, this is it. This is the night that I could finally take a break, a well-deserved break. I was no longer the eldest child of a divorced Asian family that had to face violence on a regular basis. I could also take a break from being a community leader fighting against a broken, arbitrary system. As a queer person in this conservative country, I found myself invisibilized by the system, but somehow just visible enough to be scapegoated by their political agenda, that somehow my identity was a tool for their gain. 

Many people in my community, myself included, often face violence and discrimination from family members, friends and even the very authorities that ought to protect us. Queer Muslim folks are often targeted and sent to conversion therapy camps to fix them. There was no place for someone like me. But tonight, tonight I could be carefree and enjoy the company of my community and my friends. 

And so, as we start to ascend the steps going up to the venue, I started to notice a lot of hushed voices in the corners. The lights were unusually bright and intense. But before I could take another step, a voice rang out. “Stop. Don't go upstairs, the police are raiding.” The whiplash of emotion sent my body into a paralysis as my heart rate quickened and I flash back to all the times I felt so vulnerable in my own home. When I had to face abuse, I was met with, “Why did you make him mad? You know that he gets angry. This is your fault.” I made myself take a deep breath. 

My instincts honed by years of having to manage conflict and to step in kicked in. I took stock of my situation and the risks of the people that were with me. On one hand, a queer non-binary Muslim woman would be charged and sent to conversion therapy camp, the other trans woman who would be at risk of brutality and sexual violence. I could not let that happen. And so, I sprung into action and led them out of the venue. While doing so, I was trying to book a taxi to get out of the area as quickly as possible. But I soon realized that the police had closed all the roads in the area, and there was nowhere in or out. It was almost as if they signed off on the event just to trap us here. 

Let's go this way, I said as I led them through the back alley. Every corner we turn, we catch a glimpse of blue flashing lights and we had to pivot and run. Run another corner, and I see a police officer's uniform and we had to pivot and run. In my only attempt of resistance in that moment, I tried to use my body as a shield to protect my friends, so they wouldn't be as visible. But I forgot that I, myself, had a beard and I stood out just as much. As we passed by some bystanders, we were stared at. There were whispers. But no one said anything. No one did anything. I was praying that even if they don't want to help us, at the very least to not report this to the police. 

After an hour of running as far away as we could, we finally got a taxi and we got to a safe place. I slumped onto the couch, and waves of exhaustion and my adrenaline crash washed over my body. All of the pent-up emotions of anger, frustration, even relief erupted from me and I sobbed into my pillows. I hated that the authorities could raid the event they signed off on. I hated that passerbys could only gawk at us as were trying to run for our lives. On a night when I was supposed to be vibrant and colorful, I had to make myself invisible. I felt foolish for believing that change was happening, and I realized now there is more work to be done and I'll be there every step of the way. Thank you. 

[cheers and applause]

Sarah: [00:15:17] That was Tricia Ho. Tricia is a queer rights activist and feminist that works closely with organizational system design, project management and community building based in Southeast Asia. And a big thank you to UN Women in Asia and the Pacific, and their support of The Moth’s Global program. This collaboration brought forward women's stories of bravery and resilience from survivors, creators and activists. 

That's all for this episode from all of us here at The Moth. Thank you for listening. And remember, you can always pitch us one of your stories right on our site, themoth.org. 

Marc Sollinger: [00:15:56] Sarah Austin Jenness is a director, The Moth executive producer and a coauthor of the bestselling, How to Tell a Story: The Essential Guide to Memorable Storytelling from The Moth, which is available now wherever you get your books. Tricia Ho's story was directed by Sarah Austin Jenness. 

This episode of The Moth podcast was produced by Sarah Austin Jenness, Sarah Jane Johnson and me, Marc Sollinger. The rest of The Moth’s leadership team include Sarah Haberman, Jenifer Hixson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Klutse, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant-Walker, Lee Ann Gullie and Aldi Kaza. All Moth stories are true, as remembered by their storytellers. 

For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org. The Moth podcast is presented by PRX, The Public Radio Exchange, helping make public radio more public at prx.org.