Featured Bio: Deb Kennedy

Deb Kennedy's journey into circus arts has… flowed.

It began as a gentle current of awe, from watching Cirque du Soleil’s Solstrom. The beauty of that show rippled through her imagination. Deb’s interest pooled quietly for years until life moved her to Vancouver Island and a sudden bend in her path brought her to try it for herself.

I first met Deb on a rainy afternoon in the ICS studio. Outside it was muggy and sleepy, but inside Deb’s energy was lighting a (figurative) fire in the studio. Watching the way Deb interacts with both the community and her own discipline brought me to learn her story. What followed was an inspiring conversation about resilience and transformation.

While enrolling her three children in an aerial silks class in Shawnigan, Deb’s role was initially limited to that of a supportive parent watching from the sidelines. But one day, when one of her children was sick, the instructor invited Deb to join in. What followed was a humbling and – she adds – humiliating experience for Deb, at 44. “I couldn’t invert. I couldn’t climb. I couldn’t even hold myself up,” she recalls. The other kids in the class teased her the next day, but Deb’s response was resolute: “Okay, kids, I live here now. We are going to do this.”

Deb embraced the momentum of this new current and began training alongside her children. Her gritty persistence has eroded many obstacles. The first climb after a year, the long-awaited inversion six months later— each achievement reshaping her capabilities, widened the course of her path.

On training process & philosophy

Consider Deb’s ongoing quest for the trapeze elbow rolls —a challenge she’s been chasing for over two and a half years. As she describes her process to me, I see a tenacious mind taking apart a puzzle: filming herself, analyzing frame-by-frame, repetition, collecting different perspectives from coaches and other artists but ultimately coming back to how the movement feels in her own body: “all bodies interact with the brain they’re paired with differently,” Deb finds.

Deb’s approach to mastering skills may be methodical, but it is clear that she is driven by more than just logic. Two and a half years is Phd territory: there’s a very tenacious person in there. If something feels unattainable, she’s likely to work even harder, admitting, “I’ll literally work on something for years to spite my inability to do it.”

Quitting isn’t foreign to Deb—the thought has crossed her mind many times. But she stays for two reasons: love for the art and love for the community. “If I don’t show up for a few days, someone’s asking where I am,” she smiles. “I’m surrounded by truly good people who care about others but aren’t afraid to challenge me”.

Deb’s growth has been marked by struggle, like any of us, but she refuses to let this define her. She quotes her friend Tyson’s mantra: “Struggle is inevitable; suffering is optional.” Pain, for Deb, is not a defeat but a signal that her body is alive and growing stronger. Bruises are “cute” and injuries are conversations with her limits. Struggle is a current Deb chooses to navigate.

The transformative challenges that circus brings to Deb’s life strengthen her as a partner, parent, employee, friend, and human being. And I would agree: when I look at Deb’s mix of determination, good humor and infectious energy, I see someone who inspires everyone around her to keep chasing their own struggle.

Six years have now passed since that humbling silks class. Over the years, Deb’s role at ICS has grown from “Circus Mom” to a central figure in the community. She’s no longer seen as “older”—she’s just part of the fabric. “I’ve never not been accepted for who I am at ICS,” she explains. “That’s a gift.” Circus has become her space of acceptance, which makes possible avenues of self-discovery.

One thing Deb has (re)discovered is performance. Once an artifact of Deb’s high school past, performing has returned as a source of power, joy, and visibility. Whereas training provides Deb’s foundation – the necessarily mundane repetition, performance is a source of storytelling and creative expression. “Underneath it all, I think artists crave to be seen”.

The Body & Movement

Deb went through a profound transformation in her relationship with her body. As a child and young adult, she’d spent years apologizing for how she looked. Circus has started to change that. “There is a valid place for everyone, and we should all claim our spaces,” she explains.

One turning point came when Deb wore pole shorts to class. Self-conscious about it, she apologized to her coach, who acknowledged what she said but dismissed the concern with a matter-of-fact response: that there was nothing wrong with wearing them to class.

Her relationship with her body has moved from one of criticism to appreciation. Deb has grown to love her back muscles, accept bloating as part of the process, and see things she once identified as flaws as features: unique identifiers. “I no longer apologize for what I look like, especially to myself.”

Though Deb admits her relationship with her body is a work in progress, it’s clear that she is no longer at war with her body—they’re partners.

Photo credits:
Bio photo - Photo credit: Rachel Penny (Rachel Penny Photography) circa 2017.
Gallery - David O'BRIEN @davidobrien130 / Noemie DI FRANCO @paindemimie, Erin Rautenstrauch, Melanie Orr Photography