Confessions of a Single Parent (Actress)

  I am sitting in the library and simply feel transformed. I should have been writing here, but instead I struggled to find words and space in all the wrong places. Two years ago I was blessed to be nominated from my peers, nationally to be a Hermitage Art Fellow. This opportunity gave me time. Time to be quiet. Time to embrace my creativity. Time to simply write. It gave me confirmation and affirmation. As an artist, we are often told that we should focus on one thing, one talent, one skill. I am a testament to how much BS and fear is attached to that advice. When I look back on who gave me that advice, I realize that it was given because of their own fear to explore who they fully were. And had nothing to do with me.  The library is where I learned about books and reading and simply being. I remember visiting the main library in downtown Chicago with my mother and grandfather. I saw old movies. I listened to all kinds of music in the listening room. And I curled up and read ...

  “What are the stories one tells in dark times” Saidiyah Hartman Yesterday the US bombed Iran based on nothing more than lies and conjecture. The same lies and conjecture that keep people blind to the truth of Israel and Palestine. So this will not be a history lesson because my hope is that you will run to read and research the truth that has been a reality since the end of WWII. This is about what happens when something is completely destroyed. What’s next? In apocalyptic stories, the survivors are always left to rebuild, but since these stories are often written by humans, very few of them imagine a completely original way of being. In fact, only a few writers or projects come to mind, Octavia Butler, Tananarive Due, NK Jemison, Twilight Zone, and Sinners. America is very close to deciding who she wants to be and who she could be. And it must be imagined devoid of nostalgia. Because nostalgia is false and filled with memories of what never was or what only worked for certain pe...

As I contemplate death and dying Death comes closer as I get older as each phone call or announcement on Facebook reminds me that I am not promised today or tomorrow Death comes quiet and loud and not always like a specter in the night No certain age welcomes it because it comes when it likes and it takes what it wants So what to do until it comes for me? Do I wait in anticipated silence or harrowing fear or do I simply live until it knocks on my door? This is not a poem about hope. This is not even a poem. This is space on paper for me to contemplate my deepest thoughts, fears, hopes, and questions As I contemplate death and dying, I also think of grief and the act of grieving Grieving does not simply begin and end. It does not only come with physical loss. It also arrives and seeps into my soul with spiritual and love loss. It slides into my heart after perceived loss The loss of art. The loss of music. The loss of creativity. The loss of laughter. The loss of joy. The loss of ea...

Well 2024 is nearly coming to a close. In 8 more days it will be 2025. This year started off in a whirlwind. I was on the creative team and a part of the brilliance that was Raisin in the Sun at Bristol Riverside Theatre. Went to the Hermitage Artists Retreat one last time. I was elected to be a council member of Actors Equity Association blah blah blah… And then right before I was headed to reprise one of my favorite roles, I started to experience a pain like no other. And finding the right doctor or doctors to get the correct information and care was imperative, but it is never easy to advocate for yourself when you can barely walk or even worse, the pain just keeps getting worse.  Now just before this, I hosted an End of Play virtual event sponsored by the Dramatists Guild where over 40 playwrights/writers attended from all over. Ideas and words were shared and we gave kind words, encouragement, and suggestions. Followed by pain and the unknown. At the time, I was too fearful an...

Since the election, damn, before the election, I have been existing in the middle of the void. That space where you simply exist in silence. And that has been a space of contemplation and reflection, but more importantly I have been listening and observing. Social media has a variety of opinions and post-inquiry. But, often the truth is either missed or simply not said aloud. Racism and oppression, both symptoms of white supremacy are real and alive. And have been for a very very very long time. So now what? Well since we have been existing in America with the legacy of enslavement, class, sexism, and other overt and covert oppressions, there is a segment of the population (Black people) who have developed a very thick armor over the years. This means that the worst that is to come has been expected and preparations have been made to walk through whatever is thrown our way. So I am not pointing fingers, I am not giving free history lessons, and I am definitely not holding any one's...

T here is a wonderful celebration and acknowledgment occurring after the recent comments made by Tracee Ellis Ross (actor, producer, entrepreneur). I would like to share the quote: “The childless women have been mothering the world and elevating culture as aunties, godmothers, teachers…you do not need to push out a baby to help push humanity forward.” ---Tracee Ellis Ross There is a problem with this idea despite its intention to be uplifting and empowering. It assumes that ALL women regardless of hue are celebrated or even acknowledged for pushing out a baby. And that is not simply true. I remember no one ever asking me about settling down or having a family. I do remember my first year of teaching when a student said that she could not believe I had no children and what was I waiting for, I was 22. But mostly, Black women walk through life and the world assumes they are single. And the connection between marriage and children mainly came from the church but since I only went on Sunda...