What I Learned From a Weekend at the Women’s Los Angeles Theater Festival
- navenejb
- Sep 29, 2025
- 3 min read
This past weekend, I stepped into something completely new: moderating panels. Not once, but twice.
Here’s the truth—I had never moderated a panel before. The idea excited me, but it also terrified me. What if I asked the wrong questions? What if someone went over time? What if I froze?
But here’s the surprise: not only did I do it, people from the audience—and even panelists themselves—came up to me afterward to say how much they enjoyed the conversations. That was the first lesson of my weekend: we’re capable of more than we give ourselves credit for.
How I Prepared (and Why It Worked)
My preparation wasn’t glamorous, but it was thoughtful:
I researched the panelists, scrolling through their work, Instagram feeds, websites, and even digging into their papers and books.
I asked my AI assistant to break down the panel topics into simpler terms so I could form my own perspective.
I drafted questions that flowed naturally, mixing my curiosities with what I knew would spark thoughtful discussion.
I studied other panel moderators—Hollywood Roundtables, YouTube videos, best practice guides—to find a style I liked.
By the time the weekend came, I was nervous but ready. And what I learned is this: you don’t need to know everything before you start. Sometimes it’s about saying yes, stepping into the challenge, and trusting that you’ll figure it out along the way.
A Magical Moment on Stage
One of my panels included the incredible Dimple Malhotra, who works with the Natya Shastra, an ancient Indian text of the arts, to heal people. At one point, I asked her to reflect on a concept she teaches. She closed her eyes, took a moment to center herself, and the room went still. You could feel her deep connection to her work—it was magical.
Then, she shared a simple movement practice with us from Bharatanatyam dance:
Stretch your hands out, palms open.
One by one, lower your thumb, index, middle, ring, and pinky.
Turn your fists toward you, and release them one by one in reverse order.
Repeat faster and faster until it becomes a flowing dance-like motion.
It was beautiful. It left us focused and calm. And it reminded me that art and movement are not just performances—they’re tools for transformation.
What I Learned From the Festival
Outside of moderating, I attended panels and workshops that opened my eyes to the essential role artists play in society.
And I don’t just mean Hollywood stars. I’m talking about the playwright writing a one-act play in a small theater. The poet sharing their truth. The storyteller shining light on struggles we rarely see.
Rejyna Douglass-Whitman shared her play Trans Mom vs Family Court, giving audiences an honest look at the challenges trans parents face in the legal system.
Another play tackled the stigma of antidepressants in Black communities—through comedy. It was powerful, humanizing, and healing.
Art like this does more than entertain—it documents our collective history. Just as we understand ancient empires through poetry and plays, the art of today tells future generations what we stood for, what we struggled with, and what we overcame.
That’s why supporting artists matters. Their work isn’t always “pretty”—it’s often about confronting uncomfortable truths. But those stories need to be told.
Final Reflection
This weekend taught me two big lessons:
We can do anything if we have the desire and courage to try. Even if we’re not fully prepared, stepping into opportunity allows us to grow into the person we want to become.
Art is essential to our culture. It keeps our stories alive, challenges us to see beyond ourselves, and leaves a legacy for generations to come.
So here’s my invitation to you: find the stories that matter to you. Support the artists telling them—whether that’s by showing up, donating, sharing their work, or simply listening.
Because if artists don’t tell our stories, who will?
Comments