They Call Her SheShe
By: Ashley Luna
You hear SheShe before you see her. Her voice is deep and warm as she belts out her rendition of Tina Turner’s Proud Mary. She taps her feet, grooving to the beat playing from her speaker. She twirls her finger everytime she sings the line ‘big wheel keeps on turning’ swinging her hips, playing to the people walking by, winning a few passing glances for her high energy performance. From some, this is all she will get. Others leave a dollar or two. This is SheShe at work. SheShe makes a living singing for the MTA nine hours a week, every week.
Twenty minutes earlier, we could not have anticipated the performance that was to come. SheShe greeted us with a smile. She pushed a small cart filled with Christmas decorations and music equipment up the stairs in the Port Authority subway station. Her hoop earrings are larger than her ears and she wears a silver ring on every finger. She never takes any of it off.
Aside from these little peculiarities, SheShe looks just like anyone else walking through the Port Authority subway station on Sunday, December 2nd. Her given name is Azusa Dance. When she sings, Azusa transforms into SheShe. This name was given to her by her children, a story she refuses to tell us. “That’s their story.” It is the name that she feels best fits her and her New York lifestyle.
Like many, SheShe came to New York for a fresh start. “My grandmother died, my kids graduated, my lease was up on my house. Why not start over? And if you want to start over, go somewhere you really want to, so I came to New York and it’s been great.” She sucks on a cough drop as as she sets up her microphone and lovingly lays Christmas lights around her tip box. She spreads her business cards in neat, little piles. She straightens out a hot pink, rhinestoned sign that reads “SheShe” in big foam letters.
Azusa left Chattanooga, Tennessee to come to New York to try her hand at being more than just a Sunday singer in her church’s choir where she worshipped and sang alongside her mother and grandmother growing up. When she got here attended every audition and open call she could find. For Azusa, auditioning for the MTA was just another to cross off of her list. She tells us about how her children, who are already grown up and independent, encouraged her to follow her dreams to New York. They felt like their mom was now going off to college and they got to be the parents, checking in and offering love and encouragement. They would call her frequently to ask when she would come back home to visit. It was not until they saw one of her performances in the subway that they fully accepted that New York was her home. Since then, they have stopped asking her when she is going to visit them in Tennessee.
Three months after coming to New York in 2016, SheShe got her banner to perform for the MTA. Since then, she has written a one-woman show about Big Mamma Thornton (one of her biggest inspirations) and has performed two sold-out showings at Theater Row. The first time SheShe performed for the MTA, she made over $400 in tips. In spite of her good fortune here in the city SheShe has made it clear that she is very aware of how easy the tide can turn. Back in Tennessee she worked three full-time jobs, whenever she sees a homeless person digging through the trash she makes sure to lend a hand, buying them a meal, or offering money from her tip box. “That could be me tomorrow,” she says. No matter the weather, SheShe is performing her best rendition of old school tunes by Mahalia Jackson or Ma Rainey. For her singing and performing isn’t about the money or getting attention from passersby, it is something she has to do to. “That’s what brings me joy, so it’s very important. On a scale of one to one hundred, a hundred and fifty.”
