Rock. Paper. Scissors

“Create your own happiness”... This title reminded me of something my mom repeated to me growing up, often in the face of adversity. She’d say, “We Parker’s are powerful people Jillee, we make things happen.” This was her response to every roadblock that pummeled me, and trust, she who has lofty dreams is sure to be pummeled, because great joy must be balanced by great sadness. I decided 8 years ago, that all I wanted was to be happy, and I was determined to make that happen. I have an unconventional story, and to understand my love of scissors, my creative passion, and how I am still making my dream a reality, we must first start at the beginning.

Part 1: Paper

I was supposed to be a vet. A lifelong love of rescuing animals and an infatuation with my horse Kimball, it was obvious to everyone, even me. In Bristol, Rhode Island, dreams were practical. Still, my imagination ran wild, living in a fairytale in my head. Scissors would snip the end of ribbons and feathers that I would adorn Kimball’s mane and tail with. I would lie on him backwards and read all day as he grazed. I’d make up songs no one could hear, and no matter where he’d escape too if he heard my voice, he’d come flying. He was my escape and the sole source of my happiness. At home, happy moments were fleeting. I escaped into art projects and scissors would cut up and repurpose old Halloween costumes. For example, when others drew pictures for a science project, I dressed myself up as a lysosome and turned my neighbor into mitochondria, then wrote and videotaped a play. My mom used to repurpose everything and I probably inherited that trait from her. When animosity filled our home, I would spend hours swinging on a swing set outside. I sang and sang until I was back into my fantasy world once more. Scissors cut that rope I fashioned to a swing in the woods from a fallen tree. In fact the only way I slept as a baby, was in a baby swing. The swing overlooking the ocean became my haven in high school, and the swing next to the volleyball courts were my favorite in college. While at Howard University in DC, the swings were a bit further, but I still walked there as much as I could.

I know it doesn’t seem important yet, but my heart belonged to making up songs for my entire life, and I didn’t realize how important this would become later on. My horse died in high school, so I filled my life with sports. I lost my happy, my dog and my family in one fail swoop. Lacrosse became my meal ticket, proving to be my only way out of town. That’s not to say that school wasn’t for me, it definitely was, but with all of my injuries and sicknesses, it had to take a back seat. I won every award…at everything. I lived in newspapers and on paper I looked rather happy. Scissors cut the clippings out, as I’d walk the halls and see my face taped to my teachers’ doors. Who is she? I wondered, feeling so separate from this picture painted of me. I guess it was easier to smile than scream. I spent my summers as a boat painter, whenever I wasn’t practicing lacrosse. One time I was sand blasting and I sliced my arm and it was so quick I didn’t even feel it. I used scissors to cut off the arm sleeve of the painters suit because I couldn’t figure out why the arm was turning pink. It wasn’t, it was red. The same scissors cut the gauze from my med kit. At this point scissors became a common theme at every milestone in my life. From that day on I kept a pair in my car, even to this day. While playing wall ball, painting boats and laying in ice baths, I passed the time singing songs, but you can’t be a singer in Rhode Island. You can be a vet, or a teacher, or run a small business. All options I’d been given, never once giving singing or theatre a second thought. Theatre was the same season as lacrosse so in the sixth grade I was cast as Mowgli in the Jungle Book, but I wasn’t able to do theatre again. I loved it, and I think it would’ve made me happy.

Back then if you asked me about scissors, I’d say they represented freedom. Having had both of my knees reconstructed before 17, after 9 years of dislocations, I was no stranger to stitches. Scissors cut the stitches out, and once the stitches were out I was back in action once more. It was a vicious and agonizing cycle. I even went to recruitment trips on crutches and landed my first full ride in SC. I thought South Carolina would make me happy, but my happiness was not there either, and it absolutely wasn’t in me. I’m sure by now you are wondering why I’ve brushed across several parts of my life, which don’t seem to pertain to the question at hand. I believe you can’t understand the happiness that I’ve created, until you’ve understood the depths of despair that caused it.

In South Carolina I suffered 17 more injuries and the coach was fired for abusing players. My fondest memory there was doing laundry. It was in the basement, and the acoustics were beautiful, so I sang every song I could, for as long as I could, until I ran out of voice to sing. I sang on the bus rides to different games, and on the swing set I mentioned earlier. I may not have been happy, but for a moment I could live once more in my head, forgetting the pain, the loss, and the misery. Still, I tried, I worked, I broke several more bones… then after the 2nd year, I decided to leave SC and head back north. I wasn’t allowed to legally switch D1 teams, so I figured I could finally be done with all of it. Maybe, I thought, maybe it was my turn to live and to heal. Then, days before schools started back up, I received a call from the head coach at Howard University in DC.

Part 2: Rock

I didn’t know what an HBCU was, I didn’t even get accepted officially until 3 days into the semester. I was given another full ride and no choice. I dreaded going back to a field, I dreaded the pain, and yet this decision was by far the greatest decision of my life. Howard is one of the most diverse places I’ve ever experienced. I was challenged daily, and the community taught me more about myself. I loved my team, and became a 2X captain. I loved my room, which held my favorite rocking chair. What I loved the most was the energy, because HU was and is, filled with supporters; a haven for dreams and ambition. Here I was tricked by my friends into an open mic night, in front of 150 people, and I was the only white person there, singing the only song I knew all the words too, “Just Like a Star.” Instead of the L fingers swiping me off stage (a common response in DC), I was met with applause and faces of surprise. This night became the start of my musical career.

I was singing everywhere, writing lyrics over notes, pumping out songs like a gas station during a hurricane. I was obsessed with music videos and concepts. The veil was lifted and I knew exactly how I was going to create my happiness. By now I had suffered several head injuries and my body was breaking down. A psychologist said, “You have the brain damage of a professional boxer.” What I thought was a stroke of genius, was in fact the symptoms of brain damage. That same psychologist then told me that I was the luckiest person he’d met. “Why?” I’d asked, trying to comprehend his prognosis. He replied, “It’s like you have no walls between your thoughts, no compartments, and typically someone like you would struggle to complete a thought, but with the jumbled mess that is your brain, you have managed to finish everything you start. This is great news, it means you can achieve everything you plan on achieving.” One day, I had had enough. I knew I wasn’t going to be a teacher, so I booked my first studio session in Rhode Island. To get there I hopped a train after a game in New York and made it back to school days later on a red eye. The day I booked the studio was the first step toward happiness. When I slept, I’d dream in elaborate music videos with complex plots. Yet, I woke to my obligations of a rigorous academic schedule, injuries, bad relationships and lacrosse. I told myself that all I had to do was cross the finish line, and then I would finally be happy.Then I limped across it.

I overrode into my classes so I could graduate with my Bachelors and Masters in Childhood Education at the same time. I walked the stage five times for both academic and athletic awards, even ranked 14th in the country for lacrosse. The only part I enjoyed was singing my own song at graduation, called “Home.” Ironically I had no home to go back to. I was beaten by life, broken physically, emotionally and mentally. I thought by now I’d have found my happiness in RI, SC, DC, but it wasn’t anywhere to be found.

I wasn’t smiling for my accomplishments; in fact they meant nothing to me. I was smiling because when I crossed the stage my life began. I was finally free. My metaphorical scissors cut the cord that held me back for so long. I struggled to find my footing, couch surfing for 6 months and living in my friends’ dorms until I made enough money to drive to California. I never made it to California. I did however make it to Nashville with a mere four dollars to my name... Which was just enough to get a professional skirt from Goodwill. I walked into a restaurant and got a job. I moved into a retirement home for free. The requirement was to open the doors and make sure no one died on the weekends. Now, if you’ve made it this far, you will see how I create happiness.

Part 3: Scissors

I spent every dollar I made on bringing my dreams to life. I didn’t walk to happiness, I sprinted. Of course I had very little money, so I became a thrifting superstar. I made music videos on budgets of $100-$1000 (and when you see them you will be shocked). I filmed in a jail, an insane asylum, at BNA Airport, and at various hotels, stores, bars, and several mansions. People donated locations to me because I believed in these projects so much that my belief infected everyone around me. I scheduled the servers to appear in different scenes so the daytime servers could be in my videos at night, and the nighttime servers would act during the day. I handmade or thrifted and altered everyone’s outfits for the videos. Scissors became my best friend. I am curvy and while I couldn’t afford amazing outfits, I could transform the sale items or hand stitch something amazing from cheap fabric. I made gowns with sheets and bedazzled tops for a shoot I dreamed up at a waterfall. We were given special permission by the park to hike at 3:30 am carrying backpacks of camera gear and gowns, to shoot in the middle of a waterfall. I had a jail allow me to create my music video, “The Crime”, as I spent days screen printing prison suits and getting old police attire from a local army store. I spray painted toy guns and found 60 people crazy enough to join me. I used scissors every day of my life, every element of every video was hand made. For instance, when I created “Demons” I used scissors to cut out fake bruises for the patients, to alter the doctors’ jackets, and to even cut my own hair.

That same year, I grew dissatisfied with the tracks I was receiving so I spent an entire day in 2014 scouring Instagram for a producer. I found @Draydel and assumed he was an older hip hop producer. I didn’t even like the song I found, but the music was so amazing I had to work with him. I begged him to work with me and he refused, though he was somewhat charmed. We became friends initially, and then we ended up working together because I am persistent and he would toss me his oldest tracks - the only ones I could afford. 3 years later I released my album, King of Hearts and brought my music video style story telling to the stage. I named the show “Code of the Kingdom,” and I designed it no different than the videos by incorporating so many theatrical elements from the hair to the costumes, to the musicality itself. The show was mainly live music with choreographed dances, several outfit changes, surprise musical elements like an electric guitarist and a cellist, digital art video backdrops and a light show. It was over the top ridiculous and I gave it my all, I even made tour gear that took months to screen-print and plan. I loved those songs, and all of the elements, and I loved the months of rehearsals, I was happy during the entire process, but when the show ended I was somewhat sad. You see, I am my harshest critic and it wasn’t the perfect show I’d envisioned, but it was amazing in its own right. A few weeks after the show, Draydel visited me for the first time. I featured a few of his tracks at my show and he wanted to work together in person. In those 3 years, we’d made several songs together and FaceTimed daily. We were a phenomenal team and became best friends. When I saw him for the first time, its like life began again for me. I knew a new chapter was beginning. We have been together since that very first day, and we are a dream team. I write and sing and dance with my best friend every day of my life. I created happiness, and I did it with scissors.

Now it is 9 pm on June 11th since I’ve just discovered this challenge. I have a new scar down my leg and I’m learning to walk again this week for the 3rd time in 4 months during COVID. Dray and I were performing a show called Madness2Magic for the past two years in Miami. He built a car with a pop up turntable and the sound system and equipment of a club inside. We do street performances with local groups and have traveled to perform in many states and for companies and festivals alike. Just two weeks before COVID lockdown hit, Dray bought me my first sewing machine (which became extinct to find just after). I had been using an old one from a friend, to make all of our show clothes and the dancers’ costumes. I’m often seen stitching up holes or sewing zippers moments before grabbing the mic. When COVID hit, the music industry came to a screeching halt. We were making jingles for companies like Bang Energy and filming commercials for all different organizations and in the blink of an eye, it ended. The world was in chaos but I was sewing and practicing, and cutting fabric into possibly amazing outfits. We lost our savings completely and then lived out of a trailer in July of 2020, trying to find affordable housing in Miami, Florida - which is impossible. I spent 2020 catching up on doctor appointments and in the past 7 months I’ve had 6 surgeries, half of which were on my knees. We moved out of the trailer after the first surgery into a beach and Dray has worked by himself as I am pretty exhausted most of the time. Today, I took my first few steps in almost 9 weeks, so it was an amazing day for me and yesterday was my first time in the pool. Dray knew I would be out for a while, so while I have designed our future shows from my bed, he has torn up and rebuilt the car, @LeBoomin. He used scissors, and my fabric connections, to reupholster the interior and soundproof the doors. When we begin our shows again in October, we will have a new set, new handmade clothes, a new performance car, and new knees. He and I have created happiness together and we will keep creating happiness for the rest of our lives.. And we will still need scissors to do it.

*Extra Information about our show: Our show brings happiness to everyone, every time. Our goal has always been to welcome all people and bring everyone together. All of our love and energy produced our M2M show. It is a pop up show featuring Draydel as the performing producer/DJ and Jillee Parker singer/songwriter/designer. The show incorporates different dance styles such as latin, hip hop, and ballet. We play hip hop, pop, EDM, and Spanish music. Jillee creates and coordinates elaborate costume and Draydel focuses on sequenced lighting and fog effects. We feature fire spinners and aerialists, hoopers, beatboxers and live music. Our winter show will begin as a play, the car comes to life and the sets will be determined by the different radio stations that “LeBoomin” scans through. Dray will be the mad scientist, and Jillee is the robot that comes to life along with the car. The costumes will be multilayered and change along with the extremely diverse songs.