Tell about yourself and your story, Everett!
I have acted and pretended to be someone I am not for most of my life. I am a sensitive boy who was born into a female sexed body. I learned at toddler age it was not safe to be who I truly am. Since childhood I’ve experienced PTSD, major depression, suicidal thoughts, feelings of not wanting to exist, and wishing I could disappear. One of my escapes was watching Television with or without my siblings, and new movie releases with my Mom. Every week, a trip to the video store to get the new releases, her main coping technique with depression and hoarding. I popped in and out of watching. If the flick wasn’t appropriate for my age, I’d leave at my mom’s request only to return with a more stealth approach, sneaking peeks behind furniture/piles of stuff. I remember catching a scene located at a stunt school or training gym. I told myself at a young age, if a stunt school exists, I want to go.
I had asthma since I was two, growing up on a nebulizer, rescue and steroidal inhalers. I struggled with chronic allergies and sinus infections, learning late in life humans are meant to breathe through nostrils. I loved playing outside. I was constantly outdoors using my imagination, climbing trees, leaping and diving over bushes or hedges. I played fake fighting and WWF with my neighborhood friends. I enjoyed the laughter of the younger children when I acted out a reaction and wrecked to the ground. Every fall was worth hearing their giggles.
My therapy was listening to and feeling Black voices through the music of R&B, Soul, Funk, underground Bay area Hip-Hop and Rap. I felt less alone in the pain and systemic gas lighting I was experiencing. Truth spoke through their lyrics and peered out the window frame on a BART train from suburbia to San Francisco. Nikki Jean and Lupe Fiasco remind me, “Hip Hop, you saved my life.” Because of my gender dysphoria, I deeply suppressed the urge to dance, even to the tunes that moved my soul from within.
Being a female athlete was the healthiest way for me to hide while connecting with my body. Started swim team as soon as we could and my siblings were better. I quit, blaming it on my sideways flip turns. Perhaps it was the bathing suit. My parents, fans of Japan, supported Shotokan Karate-Do for me. I enjoyed it and was excelling. Eventually I quit after school boys bullied me about it and I witnessed my mom stress about the monthly rate increase. The rest of my time living at home she’d continue to remind me of my regretful decision.
I dabbled in all the sports, finding it easier to commit to teams than myself. Girls soccer stuck since I also worked as a referee. Understanding the laws of the game made the
offside trap I pulled effective and annoying for the offense as well as the assistant referees.
I watched football religiously and excitedly, learning it was only for boys to play. I was a statistician girl for the high school wrestling team instead of listening to my heart wanting to wrestle. As my dad and I passed motocross tracks on long car rides, he’d reminisce about how much fun he had dirt biking with his brothers. I begged him to take me and his answer was always no, same as wanting to Box. Why were my desires labeled “too dangerous” for me, but not for boys?
Privileged enough to attend Oregon State University, I was able to get distance from the cyclic, unhealthy and codependent patterns in my family. I was considering the city FireFighter route with aspirations of becoming a Paramedic. The suggestion was given, stay local and attend community college. Deep down I felt the Pacific Northwest calling me. My plan was to become an athletic trainer, believing it was the only path to somewhere like the NFL. What I didn’t see coming freshman year was my ultimate hiding spot, competing as a rugby athlete.
Women’s rugby found, trained and morphed me into an elite athlete. It provided me with community and friendships I did not imagine were possible. Picture a scared little boy surrounded by impressive, intimidating, wild and threatening women. Many of them were “scary hot” to me in their own unique ways. The pressures of performing with them as teammates as well as opponents awakened the capabilities I carried when listening to my instinct.
Rugby is organized chaos, 15 teammates attempting to move as one unit. My mind and emotions- a constant mess but once I had the ball in my hands, it gave me permission to fly. The fear of letting my teammates down and being tackled by scary opponents was the perfect combination to bring out the performer inside me. In moments of listening to intuition, I danced across the pitch, weaving through defenders and chasing down ball carriers. The thrill felt incomparable to any other sport I experienced. Rugby brought me unexpected attention, confidence, and opportunities to play nationally and internationally with representative and select-side teams.
Working for the US Forest Service as a Wildland Firefighter kept me from returning home to California during summers. It was my first full time job and revealed how much I enjoy being paid to work with the element, fire. I fell in love with the woods, the hurry-up-and-wait nature of the job, and the work-hard-play-hard lifestyle it complemented with college. “Dad had taught us that the best way to hide is to keep moving,” Cherie Dimalin, The Marrow Thieves.
While working on a 20-person hand crew, a squad member developed spontaneous back pain. With guidance of the EMTs on the fire line, we evacuated him out carefully with nearby crews. In that moment, I knew I wanted to feel what it was like to be a Fire Line Medic.
Eight years later I found myself there, almost forgetting about that moment. I experienced major life events nearly knocking me off the path of becoming a paramedic: tragic deaths of loved ones, learning I was suffering from chronic inflammation, moving from coast to coast & back again, and marrying into a family with similar, cyclic patterns. I made amazing leaps with self-healing, prevented an auto-immune disease from developing, and became certified in a healing modality named Bowenwork.
I was growing closer to my authentic self while simultaneously still hiding. After experiencing the full circle feeling, I said goodbye to my last fire season. I rehomed my best dog friend and followed my spouse to Aotearoa (NZ). We planned a one year holiday working visa to gain experience on farms.
As I traveled to the other side of the earth, my world as I knew it was on the verge of flipping. Grounding on the South Island felt sacred and necessary for this next shedding of skin. Even with all the leaps and bounds I made with my health, the asthma would flare up when there was something emotionally I needed to face.
This flare up lasted days and all my self-healing tricks could not relieve the suffocating feeling. I was depending on the inhaler too frequently (medics make our own worst patients). I was frustrated, angry and upset coming this far in life, surrounded by beauty on a magical island and yet I could not breathe. There was no one left to throw the overwhelming emotions at but the person in the mirror.
I went for a walk to take space and found myself sulking against an enormous tree. I was contemplating two people who had recently phased into my life. Both expressed feelings of different genders than the way they were identifying, one had chosen a name different than their legal, and the other had not. While brainstorming potential names for the one who had not, I heard the subtle voice, “What would my name be?” My train of thought slightly shifts, “hmmm well I would want to keep my initials E.F.S. ... What would my E name be?... Everett, from The Brothers K.” A few more confirming thoughts, I felt satisfied and as quickly as that train entered my head it vanished, blocked away for another 36 hours. My sulk walk ended with my Kansas friend in her newly commonwealth-kiwi blend of an accent calling, “ALLAAIIIINNNEE?!?!” Each time she shouted the name for my attention it resonated deeper and deeper for me that I don’t want to answer to the name Elaine anymore.
I attempted surrendering to the wheezes that night through child's pose and could not tolerate the position. I fell asleep sitting upright, desperately praying to any ancestor who could save me from my own suffering. Thankfully one visited in my dream, delivering the simple truth I needed to hear, “Ooi, you a Boy.”
One day later I was able to admit out loud, “I feel I am a boy,” to myself and my spouse. The denial breaking felt like a long, blurry and broken montage of memories, similar to the scene in Elf when he realizes he is a human, only it lasted days for me. I wasn’t even aware at the time that this meant I am transgender male and still found a way to come out to our friends housing us there. It slowly became clear why the labels tried on before never felt quite right: lesbian, gay, sporty dyke, androgenous, homo and bisexual. Most of them only addressed sexuality and sex. All were limiting in representing me fully, a masculine & feminine swirl of a queer boy packaged in a female sexed body.
It's been 7 years and another round of major life events since naming myself Everett. Doing the internal work I was avoiding for so long never did get easier. Only more rewarding as I practice everyday with intention at being true to self. I search for the gifts in grief while doing the best I can to honor the time needed to process pain.
A more recent gift, I evoked ballet in my body. There is much unlearning to do from the 31 years of buried intuition. My first ballet teacher introduced me to burlesque dancing, an emotional outlet for me with creative expression. My performance name, Male Box Fitz, was born out of learning to love myself through burlesque.
I am grateful for all the stunt performers who have shared their own stories, reminding me that it's never too late to follow one’s dreams. I am grateful that pursuing stunts allows me to train in skills I grew up believing I didn’t deserve access to.
What is your greatest skill as a stunt performer, is there a story behind it?
Being a team player. Taking direction from leadership without having a preference on how I am utilized. I improvise, adapt and overcome, filling voids depending on the needs of the team. The feeling of true camaraderie and working as one cohesive unit is more important than the specific role I play. Feeling the powerful effectiveness of unity is a true reward.
What is the best part about being a stunt performer?
Learning who I am.
What advice would you give other stunt people?
It pays to be present.
Anything else you would like to tell the community about?
I visualize working for teams who support centering voices and stories of Black, Indigenous, People of Color, and people with disabilities. I am grateful for any opportunity to be involved in creative projectects sharing these necessary stories.
When trans and non-binary actors (ie: Elliot Page & Mae Martin) need a double, please think of me, Male Box Fitz.
Thank you for reading my story. Thank you Hunter Ray for inviting me to share on this platform. Thank you to everyone who participated and contributed to the safety and success of ISS 2021 in Seattle.
Follow Everett On:
SPD: https://www.stuntplayers.com/player/everett-schlarb/
IG: @maleboxfitz
Tell about yourself and story, Everett!
