Holly Gifford
Holly Gifford is the writer-performer of Big Little Sister that will perform at Edinburgh Festival Fringe from August 1st – 24th (not the 4th, 11th or 18th) at ZOO Playground – Playground 2 from 10:35 (60mins).
Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.
My brother can’t speak. I, unfortunately, have made something of a career out of not shutting up.
Big Little Sister is about the space between those two facts.
People have been telling me for years to monetise our story — it’s “inspiring,” apparently. Disability sells, if you make it palatable.
This is less a heartwarming tale and more a communication breakdown. Big Little Sister is a show about growing up with a disabled sibling. It’s about guilt, silence, performance — and voice. Who has one. Who’s allowed to use it. Who gets listened to. And what people would really rather not hear.
In the UK, we don’t silence disabled people loudly. We do it by burying them in paperwork — appeals, assessments, waiting lists — and calling that support. Most people are too scared of saying the wrong thing, so they don’t say anything. This is considered polite.
Silence doesn’t protect disabled people. It protects the systems that fail them. It lets institutions do nothing while calling it policy. It lets individuals remain statistics. The show doesn’t explain all of this.
Instead — spoiler — you watch my child self argue with her own moral conscience for an hour. But with any luck, behind that true story, the bigger, truer, darker picture sneaks in anyway.
Patrick doesn’t speak in words. But he communicates constantly — and, thanks to his hatred of wearing his hearing aids, very loudly. Through gestures, sounds, laughter, and a spiritual connection to early-2000s episodes of The Bill. I also use his communication aid in the show. I write the lines. He says them. Sometimes it feels like collaboration. Sometimes it feels like theft.
There are questions about who’s really in control of the narrative. Those questions aren’t resolved. That’s intentional. I couldn’t add a full stop because mine and Patricks story is just getting started.
While making this show, I found old videos from before I could speak. I’m a toddler, sat on a park bench with my big brother. Non-verbally, we’re fluent in each other.
I think the truest conversations I’ve ever had were with him. When I didn’t have words to hide behind. And the truth is, I’ve never needed to hide with him. He’s never asked me to prove anything. He just loved me. Unconditionally.
So maybe the show isn’t about giving him a voice. Maybe it’s about noticing he always had one.
And maybe — tragically — it’s about me, shutting up.
Image Credit: Finn Carlow
Jake Mace
