From Duran Duran to David Russell and back again: An NYC native fuels her future at St Andrews
Sam Shaber spent a First Year Abroad at St Andrews between 1990-1991.
Here she describes how during that time she went from being “a crazy Duran Duran teenager to being an independent, self-reliant, excited and introspective young woman” and how this ultimately paved the way for her current role as a spokesperson for people struggling with infertility.
I have a confession to make: I came to St Andrews because I wanted to be near Edinburgh. And another confession: I originally “discovered” Edinburgh because I was in love with Duran Duran at age 13 and did a summer drama trip through the UK as a way to kinda – well – stalk them.
Needless to say, I never found Duran Duran, but my world shifted by the end of that trip. The final week took us to the Edinburgh Fringe and my mind was blown. I found an American theatre company that produced shows at the Fringe, and spent the next two summers living in crowded flats across the Meadows, running props, stage managing, hunting for costumes in Stockbridge, doing anything I could to be in the energy and scene of this wholly spectacular international theatre event.
The friends I made at the Edinburgh Fringe introduced me to St Andrews and when it came time for university, I jumped in with both feet. I spent the year 1990-91 as a First Year Abroad, living in David Russell, joining the Mermaids Theatre Society, the Accidentals singing group, and raging at weekly sweaty dance-offs in the Megabop disco at the Students’ Union. (Soup Dragons, Jesus Jones and Happy Mondays, anyone?)
It was an amazing and hugely influential year in which I went from being a crazy Duran Duran teenager to being an independent, self-reliant, excited and introspective young woman. I spent equal amounts of time alone on long walks by the Scores, in the cafés on North Street and Market Street and dreaming up my future by the Lade Braes as I did with my inspiring classmates and new friends in pubs and residence hall rooms, comparing worldviews and culture I’d never known growing up in New York City. My classes were English, Maths, Music and Russian Literature – all taught from a new perspective.
I finished university back in the States at Cornell and shifted direction from theatre to music, which became my career for the next 20 years.
Another shift came in 2011 when my husband and I tried to have a baby. I was 39, having spent all my time and energy on my music career until then, and trying to get pregnant was not going well. Six years and 10 failed embryo transfers later, I quit. We were not to be parents and it was crushing and exhausting and traumatic. Plus, for six long years, I’d been unable to plan tours, attend music conferences, pay for recordings as so much money went into all the IVF attempts.
It was a low, low point. All the optimism and excitement I’d gained at St Andrews was gone. The life ahead of me would never be as bright as the life behind.
And then a third shift happened. I discovered the world of live storytelling, and within a year of our final pregnancy attempt and loss, I was headed back to my favourite city in my favourite country in the world, this time as a grown woman, to perform my own solo musical Sam Shaber: Life, Death & Duran Duran at the 2017 Edinburgh Fringe.
The show features crazy obsessed teenage Sam in love with the band that started it all, plus “Adult Sam” talking about the people and moments who shaped everything for me, ending with my struggles to have a baby and become a mother.
It was a dream come true to be part of the Fringe again, this time as a mainstage performer presented by the Gilded Balloon, performing every day for 25 days straight, and meeting fellow Fringers and fans alike. And what surprised me the most were all the people approaching me after the show to share their own stories of infertility and struggle. I realised I had become an unintended advocate and voice for hopeful parents on this emotional roller coaster, and I wanted to do more.
After my summer at the Edinburgh Fringe, there was another milestone: we were given an incredible gift from a cousin in the form of a blank check to start a surrogacy cycle. Our son Darwyn is now 22 months old and as passionate, stubborn and headstrong as I’ve ever been. Just like his mother, when he makes up his mind about something, look out.
All of which led me to create and host the podcast IVFU. My latest shift. It’s a series of intimate, uninhibited and surprisingly funny conversations with people on all sides of the family-making spectrum. You meet intended parents, (gay, straight and single), adoptive and transracial parents, egg donors, doctors, therapists and even my own surrogate when she’s eight months pregnant with our son.
The producer of IVFU, Emmeline Summerton, is a connection I made through a fellow St Andrews alum!
The podcast has received not only rave reviews on Apple, but also – and more importantly to me – passionate and grateful personal emails and messages from those who’ve suffered through infertility, braved the obstacles of adoption, given themselves as donors and surrogates, and all of their loved ones. As with my Edinburgh show, I’m gratified and galvanized to know that I’m making a difference and helping people who’ve needed that support and that relief from the isolation a family-making struggle can impose to connect and laugh.
We’ve just started interviews for Season 2 and one of my very first guests is a woman I met after my Fringe show one night in Edinburgh who was in the throes of IVF treatments at the time, and has since decided to stop and embrace a life without children. I’m happy to see her thriving and I’m excited to share her story with the world as a true and meaningful option.
My year at St Andrews is at the heart of so much of my life because it was there that I became truly curious and determined to see as much of the world as possible. Touring over 200,000 miles as a musician, performing my solo show at Edinburgh and then in LA and New York, and now hosting a podcast that brings people together across borders and class and racial lines in a common understanding – it all began on my solo walks, “landing chats,” arts societies, brilliant professors (and frothy pints) at the university by the sea.
I can’t wait to start travelling again when life is safe and visit my favourite inspiring corner of the world.
