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Picturesque rowhouses line Maidstone Road, a small neighborhood street about 30 minutes north of downtown London. Families stroll up and down the sidewalks to chat with friends, wave to passersby and pop in for tea on their neighbor’s patio.
But four years ago this week, Maidstone Road fell silent.
Like neighborhoods around the world, the casual strolls and lively chats were replaced with an empty street and ghostly quiet. COVID precautions reduced daily interactions to gentle waves from second story windows. Inside, the residents of this suburban corridor worked to find ways, not simply to pass the time, but to create sparks of joy in an uncertain and frightening world.
For Austyn Farrell, that fight to create a spark of joy in his own home would quickly reverberate throughout the neighborhood and around the globe.
Farrell is a dancer by trade. When the pandemic struck, his ability to find work in a locked-down world quickly evaporated. But amid the hardship of the moment, Farrell saw an opportunity.
“As a professional dancer, I had to look a certain way,” Farrell said in an interview with The Black Wall Street Times. “I had to look masculine.”
Farrell, who is gay, remarked on how that pressure to exude masculinity required him to display a certain public persona.
“You would be frowned upon if you were seen as a gay person on Instagram. [Companies] want to associate you with being a big, strong lad.”
In the midst of an unprecedented moment, Farrell found himself presented with an opportunity. It was a chance to engage with the world with a new level of openness and authenticity. And so he pushed aside the negative wonderings about what others might think and decided to “just do what I wanted to do”.
In the middle of a pandemic, Farrell helps others find hope by embodying Tina Turner, and turning his street into a stage
Farrell began making camp posts; creating videos of himself in heels and wigs. He began posting TikToks and reels with him lip-syncing musical hits and performing Broadway ballads.
“I started to find this comedy with it. But within that comedy, I started finding vulnerability.”
Farrell says he initially felt fearful after posting the first videos. He worried what people might think or say, and pondered how it could affect his career. But that anxiety began to subside as people started to respond.
“People would ask for more content,” he said. People would tell him “that got me through lockdown this week.”
And as the videos progressed, so did Farrell’s comfort with embodying this vulnerable, joyful form of creativity and expression. The comfort grew until, one day, roughly two months into lockdown, he made the transition from dancing inside his home to dancing in the street.
And he did it as the Queen of Rock and Roll herself, Tina Turner.
“That was a genuine turning point for me,” Farrell told The BWSTimes. “To go out on the street in a wig, and a dress, and heels and luscious oils on my legs so they looked toned.”
“I wanted to take Tina – to take her energy – and make it something fun and positive,” he said. “And I fucking loved doing it so much!”
Farrell says he believes that something as outlandish as a person dancing a choreographed routine in a Tina Turner outfit felt uniquely relatable to others in that moment.
“When we were in that point of life, it was such a high energy when we all had very little energy.”
So Farrell channeled that energy, and made the street his stage.
‘F*ck this, let’s give ’em a show’: Pushing past fear and stepping into joy
And as the performances continued, as Britney, as Whitney, as Dolly and others, the audience – both online and lining the streets continued to grow.
In an interview with BBC London, a few of Farrell’s neighbors recounted their excitement to watch his performances from their homes.
“I think they’re marvelous,” one man said. “They brighten up our lives.”
Another woman, who brought her young children out to watch, said “the music, the dancing, the atmosphere and the contact with neighbors” made the moments special.
“It’s a spectacle,” another neighbor said as she watched on with her teenage daughters. “It gives you something to look forward to.”
And in a time when isolation was so prevalent, Farrell’s spellbinding dances fostered a new sense of community.
“It’s honestly heartwarming what happened – what we built,” he recalled.
Beyond the sense of community, the dances and videos also helped foster a sense of understanding and respect for some neighbors who had never before been a part of queer culture.
“One of my older neighbors came up to me and said we’ve never even seen this kind of stuff,” Farrell recalled.
“He was just saying: ‘thank you for being you. Thank you for doing this’,” Farrell said. “And it was just so lovely.”
Farrell says the love he received from his parents growing up was “beautiful” and unconditional
Farrell’s confidence to step out into the world with authenticity stems, in part, from the love and support from his parents.
When he came out as gay, both his mom and his dad immediately made clear that it changed nothing about the way they saw or loved their son.
And as he started making these videos, his parents were eager to share in celebrating his joy.
When he would visit his mom and his now late-stepdad over COVID, he recalls sitting on the couch between them as they watched and asked him about his videos.
“It was beautiful,” he said. “It brought them joy just like it did everyone else.”
Farrell says his dad still shares his videos with his guy friends in their WhatsApp group.
“It’s a bunch of fifty-year-old guys,” he said, smiling, “and they’re all so proud of my dad for having a son like me. It’s mental.”
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‘It took me to a dark place’: an anti-gay attack made making his videos an act of both joy and resistance
Even in making these joyful videos, Farrell shared that he experienced instances of homophobic intimidation and violence. While filming another Tina Turner video outside his neighborhood, he noticed young men pointing, laughing and hurling insults.
Feeling uncomfortable, Farrell and his team decided to wrap filming early and head home. As they were packing up, one of the men jumped in their car and sped toward him.
“When I tell you, if I did not jump out of the way, I would have been hit by this car,” he said.
“That took me back,” Farrell recalled. “It took me to a dark place.”
For over a month after that attack, Farrell stopped recording and stopped dressing up or dancing in public. But as the messages of support for his previous videos continued pouring in from parents of young, LBGTQ+ children, Farrell knew he couldn’t stop.
“I thought what the fuck am I doing hiding myself?” Farrell asked. “I lived to tell the story. I’m not injured from it. Why am I going to back down and give in to these idiots?”
Farrell said the incident re-instilled in him a determination to keep showing up authentically, knowing he was inspiring younger people to do the same.
“I need to remain myself, because you’re always inspiring younger generations underneath you to be who they want to be. So if I can help that, and it takes me putting back on a pair of heels and a shitty wig that cost me four pounds, then so be it.”
“You’re always going to be finding yourself.”
For Farrell, this journey has been one of self-discovery. With all eyes on him, he found the courage to strut magnificently into Maidstone road nearly four years ago and not look back.
Even today, the anxiety creeps in before any performance. The worries of what people may think or say still linger. “But whenever the first beat or the first lyrics kick in, I’m a new girl,” he said. “It’s like an alter-ego.”
Farrell wants others to feel encouraged knowing they’re always going to be finding themselves, but that every step of that journey can be a beautiful one. It’s why he hopes to launch a new podcast by the end of the year, giving others the opportunity explore and realize that joy and confidence in themselves.
Because even in a moment when legal and social attacks against gay and trans people are rising, Farrell refuses to allow anyone to dim the power and beauty of his own authentic life.
“We’re a beautiful thing, being Black and gay,” Farrell said.
“I’m not going to stop because someone doesn’t like me,” he continued. “I’m winning.”