It's weird that I came to nyc to do theatre, hung out with theatre friends and knew precisely ZERO POC who were happy about their place in theatre. I had cognitive dissonance. I heard what they were saying, I saw the statistics, and some part of me thought 'yeah I'll be different though.' Maybe I thought 'I'll just work harder or be more talented than you' or maybe the dysfunction felt normalized and baked into the process. I guess part of the reason I didn't pause and reflect on the universal dissatisfaction among my peers is because there was no time. We were all in pursuit of a new contests, new fellowships, an opening pipelines. The small % of POC that did win the prizes were still unhappy, boxed-in, uncomfortable in their settings...and that didn't register with me b/c I thought 'well they're just not using their opportunity in the right way.' I thought it was just a matter of class, so I hung out with POC artists who were at least making a living out of theatre...and these folks were low-key morose and ill-at-ease, paranoid, scarred. Next, I thought I just needed to go the right school. I got into Juilliard and still saw the frustration among my peers. Then I thought 'I need to be around other POC artists.' I moved into a house with an amazing dancer/choreographer, a great actor, and wonderful singer...all POC. They all had the same discomfort, struggle, grind, questioning 'is it just that I'm not being smart enough or is it something else I can't do anything about?' This went on for years and years...POC artists grinding down the best years of their life for pennies on the dollar and footnotes in the glossy magazine of theatre success.
Conversely, when I entered the tv and film world 6 yrs ago there were lots of POC who seemed rather sane and content. Granted, things are not perfect and there are many problems in Hollywood and there were still unhappy, scarred, crazy and damaged black artists. But there was also many black and latino artists who seemed to be...okay, fine...dare I say...happy. Maturity led me to see that being 'okay' wasn't a sign of mediocrity, and being 'tortured and impoverished' was not a gold star of genius...but perhaps it was a part of my development. In tv I met POC artists who had their basic financial needs met and could see a pathway toward greater artistic expression. And it's not like I was running around Hollywood with Shonda Rhimes or Tyler Perry. Most of my peers were/are low-level writers or people just starting off. But there was a sense of a pathway. I think It's why so many black playwrights leave theatre forever once they get a taste of sanity. I think its why my agent reacted to news about my new theatre project -after working in TV for year- with a pause before saying 'oh, you still do theatre?!? How cute!' It was as if I told her I still made mashed potato castles out of my tv dinner or liked to drink from a sippy cup. Adorable!
Once you've left the psychiatric ward that is the American theatre and had the chance to live in your own apartment for a while, it's weird to get a call from the ward saying 'hey, a great bed opened up for you and there's 50% less vomit on the mattress...wanna come? It's a new fellowship program named after the Rockefeller family where we give POC artist a smelly mattress and some Ritz crackers and let them write for a month. ' In that moment, you realize what an insane life you led b/c a few years ago you would have jumped at that queen-size bed in the psych unit with less vomit. You would have thought 'I WON theatre!' Now you look at it...and feel sad, like 'oh wow...this hurts my heart that you think you're doing me a favor. This hurts my heart that I used to believe this WAS the prize. This hurts that other POC artist inside that ward will be fighting over that bed.
Over time it seemed like the sanity and stability of tv leaked over into theatre. I started getting opportunities to tell stories I cared about at Skylight Theatre in LA, Seattle Public Theatre, Miami New Drama, Lean Ensemble in South Carolina. My plays got produced in London by amazing actors and directors. It felt like my mental seeds for dysfunction were burning away like smog and now I could clearly see sane theatre people with money and a good attitude. Maybe they were there the whole time. Whatever the case, we need more of them.
Conversely, when I entered the tv and film world 6 yrs ago there were lots of POC who seemed rather sane and content. Granted, things are not perfect and there are many problems in Hollywood and there were still unhappy, scarred, crazy and damaged black artists. But there was also many black and latino artists who seemed to be...okay, fine...dare I say...happy. Maturity led me to see that being 'okay' wasn't a sign of mediocrity, and being 'tortured and impoverished' was not a gold star of genius...but perhaps it was a part of my development. In tv I met POC artists who had their basic financial needs met and could see a pathway toward greater artistic expression. And it's not like I was running around Hollywood with Shonda Rhimes or Tyler Perry. Most of my peers were/are low-level writers or people just starting off. But there was a sense of a pathway. I think It's why so many black playwrights leave theatre forever once they get a taste of sanity. I think its why my agent reacted to news about my new theatre project -after working in TV for year- with a pause before saying 'oh, you still do theatre?!? How cute!' It was as if I told her I still made mashed potato castles out of my tv dinner or liked to drink from a sippy cup. Adorable!
Once you've left the psychiatric ward that is the American theatre and had the chance to live in your own apartment for a while, it's weird to get a call from the ward saying 'hey, a great bed opened up for you and there's 50% less vomit on the mattress...wanna come? It's a new fellowship program named after the Rockefeller family where we give POC artist a smelly mattress and some Ritz crackers and let them write for a month. ' In that moment, you realize what an insane life you led b/c a few years ago you would have jumped at that queen-size bed in the psych unit with less vomit. You would have thought 'I WON theatre!' Now you look at it...and feel sad, like 'oh wow...this hurts my heart that you think you're doing me a favor. This hurts my heart that I used to believe this WAS the prize. This hurts that other POC artist inside that ward will be fighting over that bed.
Over time it seemed like the sanity and stability of tv leaked over into theatre. I started getting opportunities to tell stories I cared about at Skylight Theatre in LA, Seattle Public Theatre, Miami New Drama, Lean Ensemble in South Carolina. My plays got produced in London by amazing actors and directors. It felt like my mental seeds for dysfunction were burning away like smog and now I could clearly see sane theatre people with money and a good attitude. Maybe they were there the whole time. Whatever the case, we need more of them.
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