“This is pointed, visceral, searching theatre … a theatre that demands to be seen on its own terms.”
Kenton Stevens
4 paper aeroplanes
Venue: Digital Fringe
Melbourne
Dates: 18 Oct 2026 (as part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival)
Full title: Stories from the Waiting Room: Lived Experience of Disability Rights by My Story
“I want to belong.”
Savannah Coots shares these words. As she does, one of humanity’s most fundamental needs is writ large. From the heart, from her to us to everyone. It could be a catch cry too for the actor, for the theatre, for any and all who must tell their stories. Our essential human need to be seen, connected, heard; to become fully ourselves.
A pile of upturned, non-descript chairs—the sort found in so many government, community or health services across the world—lies in a liminal black space. Gradually, the cast assemble these pieces into a Waiting Room. From here, they share their experiences, their lives, vividly. Within it, they connect with one another, helping each to tell their story. It is an act of will, of agency, of deep generosity.
Beyond awaiting their turn to share their insights, what are our storytellers waiting for? Recognition? Understanding? Being heard? Respect? To be met, toe to toe as one human being to another, each on our own merits? Usefully, it is a question Stories from the Waiting Room doesn’t easily answer.
What are we all waiting for?
Developed by the cast, with scripting by Megan J Riedl and the direction of Carmen Maddison, My Story lead us on a journey of courageous discovery.
Mel Stephens invites us to look beyond the limiting questions and preconceptions of disability support assessments. To find her in a place where what’s important is her deep love of horses, and the freedom that horse-riding brings; together with the right to stand up for what you believe in, and to speak your truth, because that too is reasonable.
Living in a state of being that shifts, fluctuates, frustrates and amazes, Megan shares her experiences through a glittering array of spoken word that sizzles and shimmers and shadows. She helps us to catch a glimpse of what most cannot see: her story, and her identity. From derided class clown to a man of feeling who loves to make people laugh, Justin O’Brien shifts from outsider, bullied and stigmatised, and into his own light.
Connor O’Keefe dances with grace and feeling for his younger self. He shows ‘Young Connor’ how far his journey has unfolded. He comforts him, acknowledges the struggles of childhood, and celebrates the strength and the successes he has grown to become. Emerging from life as a qualified pharmacist, who was oppressed by the discrimination visited upon her by those in the workplace, Tayla Ham shows us through story and song how she found her voice, her place and her tribe in performance.
This is pointed, visceral, searching theatre. It does what theatre should, it shares stories and perspectives in ways that question, challenge and move. These performers are strong, with committed voices, sharp perspectives to share, and a passion to share them. It is a theatre that demands to be seen on its own terms.
In the work’s final moment, the cast return to their Waiting Room, and settle. They raise an arm. They point out at us, the audience. What meaning shall we make of such a powerful, provocative, political act? That, it seems, is up to us.
In spite of vivid personal experiences to the contrary, of crashing up against structural and policy barriers that too often constrain rather than enable, despite the all-too-present discrimination, ignorance and fear, and myriad misconceptions of so many, Savannah plaintively, and insistingly, reminds us of a core truth self-evident.
“We all belong.”
Kenton Stevens, Theatre Now
