ACH Spotlight: Prodigal Son/Prodigy Daughter
Parker D. Wayne wears many hats both figuratively and literally. Layering fishnets, wearing a blue wig, stacking camo on camo, sporting dramatic makeup — they are always pulling a look. Whether they are backstage styling someone for the runway, up front running the show, or just out dancing, they are bound to be dressed to the nines.
Parker is the founder and director of Oklahoma Fashion Alliance (OFA) a collective of designers and artists working to foster fashion in the Sooner State. Parker and the alliance have kept busy getting their hands on any project they can. “As a designer, I also have to direct and lead all the models. I have to figure out makeup. I have to figure out hair. I have to figure out photo and video. I have to be the person that’s coordinating with the venue and the event people,” Parker explains.
She works. She is everywhere getting things done. She is in the community and she is building community. But most recently, Parker was awarded a residency in LA through a collaboration between A Creative House and Tulsa Creative Engine. After investing much time, energy, and money into OFA and the Tulsa community, they took the opportunity to invest in the growth of their solo career.
Parker grew up in Jenks, Oklahoma. “I was kind of a sheltered Christian kid growing up. I didn’t really have much of an understanding of art. I was always interested in theater, music and choir. But I never really had access to art or to the different resources to create anything for myself. But I always found myself dreaming, imagining, singing in the shower, performing in my bedroom, things like that.”
A high school friendship with another future Tulsa artist, Atlas Fielding cemented this early interest in art. The two wrote and starred in a play together. This early collaboration set the stage for Parker’s future artistic career, which is heavy on community and collective creation. But the artistic seed that was planted in high school wouldn’t blossom until after a few more years of struggle.
“High school drama class was my safe haven from being bullied and trying to fit into religion,” Parker said. “I ended up dropping out after my sophomore year and got my GED.”
With their GED in hand, they decided to go into ministry. “I was at the time still trying to ‘pray the gay away’ and fit into the society I grew up in,” they explained.
She toiled away in ministry for some time until the need to be their true, queer self butted up against the religious pressures to conform. Eventually, they realized they needed to pursue authenticity.
For Parker, coming out and realizing her desire to be an artist went hand and hand. “Part of me knew that my artistry was going to be deeply intertwined with my queerness. It felt like I couldn’t truly step into my artistry until I accepted this part of myself.”
During the lockdown of 2020, Parker began to take steps toward art and toward self-acceptance. They started by writing articles and doing photo shoots — just investing in and exploring their creativity. But it was the fashion end of things that really called to them. She started leaning into that edge of her artistry. “I started calling my music friends and seeing if they wanted a stylist for their album artwork, or things like that, and just dipping my toe into fashion in general.”
In 2021, Parker had the chance to go on a trip to New York City during fashion week. The trip was a turning point for them. Back in Tulsa, they decided they wanted to make some shows happen and they went right to work designing some outfits for their first fashion show.
The first fashion show led to another, led to more jobs and opportunities, and eventually led to Parker gathering all her Tulsa-based friends that were into fashion for a meeting in a bank parking lot. That meeting eventually led to the start of OFA. Now, OFA has worked with around 100 artists, they’ve coordinated group shows, and styled videos. Most recently, OFA received a Vision Arts 5 grant through the City of Tulsa.
All this to say: for Parker, the past few years have been a whirlwind of work, work, work, community, collective, collaboration, the building of a new life and new career, all while going through intense personal growth.
When Parker got the residency, it was an opportunity to stop, slow down, and process the change. This processing led to the creation of a performance art piece called “The Prodigal Son.”
“It’s a really heavy phrase for me,” Parker explained. “I don't know if you’re familiar with the story, but the son basically leaves his family's farm. He asks for his inheritance early. He goes on this journey. He spends all of his inheritance and his money and ends up like working on a pig farm and then eventually comes back to his family's home, hoping to just be a servant, but is welcomed back as a son. But it's this story that has been traditionally weaponized in the church. They say, if you backslide or if you leave the church, you'll eventually come back when the world doesn't satisfy you…Like when your own path doesn't satisfy you, you'll return back home — back to the church and God. And so I was always afraid, especially knowing I was queer. So I always kind of knew and had to ask myself: Do I leave one day? Do I stay the path I always knew? And I was always afraid of what the wrong choice was. Or if I would regret my choice to leave.”
This project deals with these questions. While in LA, Parker went to the ONE National Gay and Lesbian Archives at the University of Southern California libraries. They cried as they read through stories of parents from PFLAG who worked to accept their children.
The research helped them create their performance. “I started thinking about what it would look like to rewrite my story. And so I started working on this performance piece that is inspired by when I washed my parents feet after I moved out of their house.”
Parker explained how before they left their parents’ home, they held a foot washing ceremony as a way to make peace with leaving. They knew that leaving was a sign that they were choosing to go their own path — a path that would take them farther from the church and thus farther from family.
The performance piece rewrites the story, and gives Parker a chance to wash themselves, a symbol of empowerment. They performed their piece seven times at El Matador Beach with the help of a few Tulsa videographers and photographers to document it.
Before Parker left LA, they had a chance to perform the piece at a gallery. One woman, another artist, came and cried before the performance. She had also grown up religious and the piece resonated with her own experience.
Now, Parker hopes to continue giving the performance piece and making a similar impact around the country. “I want to give space for the prodigal children to witness themselves,” she said of the performance. “So witness yourself, love yourself. Give grace to yourself. Be yourself. That’s my message. That’s my heart.”