February 29 - March 2, 2024

Downey House Lounge at Wesleyan University

After their mother first attempts suicide, a student begins creating a list of every brilliant thing in the world—everything worth living for. As they grow into adulthood, the list becomes a way for them to re-discover an appreciation for the little things, and, to their surprise, deeply connect with their community. 

Every Brilliant Thing grapples with depression, hope, confusion, joy, heartbreak, laughter, self-reflection, relationships, grief, and resilience, addresses suicide with compassion and care, and, most of all, affirms life. This play invites its audience to be in communion together, to focus on the little miracles of everyday living as a form of resilience, and to know that no one is ever truly alone.

PLEASE NOTE: Every Brilliant Thing includes references to in-depth discussions of mental health, depression, suicide, suicide attempts and prevention, death, and brief mentions of drug overdose, self-harm, needles, loss of a parent, loss of a pet, and hospitalization. 

This production of Every Brilliant Thing asks its audience to communally interrogate the interconnected role of education and theater in creating a livable, lovable world. It is an exploration in finding new ways to talk about suicide beyond the taboo: an offering towards building a transformative praxis of community care. We aim - we hope - to build resilience, learn new perspectives, and most importantly, take care of each other, crafting this conversation in community together.

Hi! I'm Mo, a senior theater major at Wesleyan University. (If you're reading this, we've probably met, but maybe we haven't!) Thanks for taking the time to read this little note! <3

I fell in love with this play a few years ago, and I've been thinking about it ever since. When I first encountered it, I was experiencing a really tough time in my personal life, having struggled with my third semester of college after COVID had taken away my freshman spring. Needless to say, my mental health at the time wasn't great: I had just returned from a week-long stay at Middlesex Hospital, to my dorm in Alpha Delt, where my housemate Jess picked up her copy of the script, and read the first few words of Every Brilliant Thing:

"The list began after her first attempt. A list of everything brilliant about the world. Of everything worth living for."

I was already tearing up at this point because well, I knew exactly what the "attempt" was referring to. Still, she kept going, reading the rest of the play, and I trusted her: she was sharing something she had found meaning in.

Now, Every Brilliant Thing is a participatory play, and the first scene requires an audience member to become a veterinarian that will put down a (not real) dog. So, there I was, fresh out of the mental hospital, using a pencil to "inject the pentobarbital" into a rolled up hoodie named Sherlock Bones, laughing my ass off because the context was just so ridiculous, and Jess's delivery was impeccable. 

After the scene ended, we laughed and we cried together. I think we ended up staying up all night talking about the magic of art, and about how awesome it was that we could find joy together, through this silly little play, even though life was hard. 

That evening marked the beginning of a learning process I've personally experienced through this play, about my own resilience, my joy, and the ways in which we can be in community with each other, even through difficult times. Over the few years that I've been thinking about this play, I've asked myself many questions about the way(s) that theater, specifically immersive theater, can educate, and to what ends. My working hypothesis? Theater is always educative; it makes us more aware of ourselves, and more aware of others - and, via that pedagogical force, it can empower us to create a community and culture of care.

Thus, it begins: an exploration of Every Brilliant Thing as an engaged immersive class (or something like that), but, mostly as a love letter to the Wesleyan and Middletown community. I invite you to join me on this journey, in whatever capacity you're willing and able.