Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Sun Luu. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Hi Sun, thanks for joining us today. Learning the craft is often a unique journey from every creative – we’d love to hear about your journey and if knowing what you know now, you would have done anything differently to speed up the learning process.
My journey to becoming a performing artist and educator can be traced back to my childhood tendency to being both a class clown and a people pleaser. The need for both attention and approval drove me to perform at poetry recitals, high school speech & debate competitions, talent shows, and poetry slams. Over time and through plenty of trial and error, my ego dissolved and I began to learn and respect the responsibility it takes to capture someone’s attention and evoke their emotions.
The most essential skill I’ve learned through my performance experience is gratitude and authenticity. Once I learned and accepted that my next performance could be my last on a particular stage and setting, and that the audience will never be the same people again, I started to cherish and treat their time and attention with deep consideration along with my utmost presence.
I began questioning which values we all shared and upheld as human beings. And what values do most people carry dear to their heart? Family. Friends. Self acceptance. Forgiveness. Responsibility. Purpose. We all grapple with such values, either in our reverence, rejection, or evolution of them. Nowadays, I think of how I process these values internally and write from lived experiences and honor how I currently understand them to be, even if my conclusion is not the ‘right’ answer. I allow both my maturity and lack thereof to coexist on a page and to be expressed on a stage, regardless of judgment.
The most significant feedback I’ve ever received came from fellow spoken word performer and personal hero, Javon Johnson, one night after a local poetry slam between the Los Angeles and San Diego poetry team in 2017. After the show, Javon told me “You did everything right… but I just don’t believe you.” This was in reference to a poem I had performed about my Chinese heritage and the celebration of my mother’s resilience as an immigrant, growing up in America. Confused, I tried to rationalize my denial; ‘But I got emotional where I needed to be. I raised my volume towards the climax and settled on a soft-textured tone of voice for the resolution. How could my role model in spoken word poetry not believe me?” None of my technical prowess and showmanship could cover up the fact I lacked a spiritual presence and connection with my own pieces. It would take me years to realize that I had been writing and performing for the satisfaction of the crowd and not for the expression of myself.
And for years since my childhood, I’d reconcile with the understanding that my desire for attention and the approval it came with had been hindering me from expressing myself truthfully. What my writing and performance showed up until the conversation with Javon was the composition of a highly researched, self-manufactured persona. And knowing what I know now, I would have sought therapy much earlier on in life.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
As a spoken word poet and performing artist, I am a historian for my human experiences through spoken word. My first foray into this art form was from watching Def Poetry Jam with classmates in the 10th grade on a day where the English teacher didn’t feel like teaching. Seeing performers from all backgrounds express their perspectives on the world evoked a sense of catharsis within me to write and perform my own poetry. My debut spoken word album “Heirloom” is a storytelling journey of my life as a second-generation Asian American, where I explore and reconcile with intergenerational family trauma, reconnect with my heritage, and ultimately celebrate the history of my ancestors.
As a performing arts teacher and speech coach, I help young K-12th grade students find their voice through performing arts. Though most students and parents seek my services with the motive to ‘win’ at competitions and improve their college applications, I keep the students’ focus on the reasons they chose their scripts or speech topic. With each class or private session, I challenge the student’s perspective of the world, empower their sense of self, and support them on their journey of authenticity within their performances. Beyond the medals and trophies my students have achieved under my tutelage, they have grown to become incredibly responsible, empathic, and enlightened young people.
Whether you are a guest at my show or a student under my care, you will experience a better understanding and appreciation of the world around you. There is so much to be grateful for and so much we owe our efforts to preserve and improve.
We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?
The trope of ‘the struggling artist’ has prevailed for centuries, but was more popularized since the 19th century Romanticism movement, which included the likes of Vincent Van Gogh and Edgar Allan Poe. It’s a phenomenon that continues to plague many artists, including myself. Should I abstain from my prescribed medication to experience the full depths of my agony? Must I go hungry to know what hunger truly feels like? Am I truly an artist if I have not suffered for the art I create?
But then again, must all art be based in tragedy? Can’t the mountains just be beautiful because I finally decided to go outside for a hike this morning? Can’t this meal be divine because my mother took her time to prepare it and all my family members are alive to share it together? Pain is only one of the many facets of the human condition. Once I let go of the dirty glamour and glory that ‘struggling’ affirmed of my artistry, I became much less bitter of a person and much more grateful and alive. Discovering and sustaining peace became the point of neutrality where my creativity began to flourish and my perspectives began to broaden.
Accepting my privileges as they are and not denying them for the sake of ‘credibility’ also allowed me to be honest. Yes, I come from a middle-class family of immigrants. Yes, I’m a cis-male in a household of brothers, grappling with how to healthily embody masculinity. Yes, I am very lucky in so many ways and I, too, have a perspective worth sharing, because it is uniquely my perspective. Cotton is just as raw as a material as coal and each serve their own purpose in the world.
What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?
“Thank you. I needed to hear that” expressed by either an audience member or student.
I remember when a fellow performer had told me she was grieving the recent loss of her mother and my poem, “You Look Like,” a piece where I reflect on the humor and tragedy of coincidentally looking like my late grandfather, had brought her words she didn’t know how to express until she experienced my performance. The resolution of the poem was to carry on my grandfather’s legacy with dignity and pride to honor the memories family members associated with him, because I looked so much like him.
What was originally written for my own sense of healing became inspiration for someone else, earlier on in their journey of grief. There are moments like this scattered throughout my career, which remind me of the cosmic connection we all share as human beings, and motivate me to create responsibly in order to foster such safe havens of communion.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.sunluuofficial.com/
- Instagram: @sunluuofficial
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sunluuofficial/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/c/SunLuuOfficial
Image Credits
Ken Fong