Why I Talk About My Brother on Stage

Some moments are too powerful to leave off the stage.

For me, one of those moments is talking about my brother, Luc.

Luc

Luc was alone on the night of June 24, 2021, when his actions led to serious self-harm. He suffered third-degree burns over his entire body. No one knows exactly what Luc was thinking or feeling that evening, but in his confusion and pain, he was miraculously able to get himself to a phone and call for help.

Luc was not done. He knew there was more to live for. There was more to do, more people to help, more love to share, more music to make, more light to shine.

Unfortunately, his injuries were too severe, and he passed away the next day in the hospital, surrounded by myself and the rest of my family.

Losing him broke something open in me. Not just personally, but professionally. At first, I didn’t think I could ever perform again. I didn’t know if joy was something I could stand up and share with others when I couldn’t even feel it myself.

It took time. I kept showing up, doing shows again, figuring it out. And then, I was sitting in a coffee shop in Grand Rapids with Harris III — a fellow magician and speaker — when he told me something that has stuck with me ever since: “You can’t speak from wounds. Only scars.”

That gave me language for something I was already starting to live. Grief never fully goes away. But with time, you start to grow around it. The loss is still there, but so is the beauty. The laughter. The love. You start to carry both.

Now, when I share Luc’s story during a show, it’s a pivot point. It takes the night from laughter to something more. I don’t do it to bring the mood down. I do it because people need to hear it. Because maybe someone in that audience has felt alone, or broken, or like they don’t matter. And if my story helps them feel seen, even for a second, then it’s worth it.

Part of my mission now is helping people of all ages reconnect with their passion and purpose — because I believe everyone has a reason to be here, right now.

"The Dash"

It’s one thing to entertain. It’s another to connect.

That’s why we built Luc’s Light Youth Music and Arts. A nonprofit created by my family and a community of educators and public servants in Van Buren County. We saw a need for real, local, boots-on-the-ground help for teens. We built it because the system was broken. Now at the Luc's Light Teen Center 12-20 year olds learn guitar,percussion,dance,art and more at no cost in a safe and supportive enviroment.

I don’t bring this up on stage for sympathy. I bring it up because I believe joy and sorrow can live side by side. Because I believe you can make people laugh and still make them think. And because I believe that this is the real connection that comes from performance.

I talk about my brother because he mattered. Because he still matters.

And because maybe, just maybe, someone in the crowd needs to hear it too.

Not Done.

Learn more about Luc's Light Youth Music and Arts at Lucslight.org