Confessions of a Single Parent (Actress)

This summer has brought with it a cornucopia of opportunities. And as grateful as I am to be doing what I love, it is also sprinkled with some annoyances. Moments when you are reminded that you are your own business and that you must protect that at all costs or else. Moments when you are working so many hours during the day that sleep is a luxury that you cannot afford and your body and spirit crave it. Moments when you have to go to the laundromat several times during the week. Not to mention cooking and cleaning and all that jazz that is connected to being a single parent actress. Ugh! That is when I reach for this blog. It gives me life when I am literally drained of everything. I gives me life when I am literally feeling the wall of exhaustion upon me. This week will be a beast, but soon I will have some daytime free to sleep, rest, catch up on Ray Donovan and maybe even see some friends and share some wings and toast a hard cider. But until then, take heed that if you need to ...

First, to all of my queer, trans, lesbian, gay, and bisexual friends, I just want to take this moment to tell you that you are loved, but the truth is you have not ever been safe. And many of you exist in this constant state of flux because fear and phobia continue to want to render you invisible, worthless, and even worse, expendable. Orlando reminded all of us the truth of those words and sentiments. The attack even reminded us of the deep phobias and fears we hold towards those of Islamic faith. But there is a larger truth. The truth is we have got to do better, if we want to see tomorrow or 5 years from now, we have to face the facts. Assault rifles, guns and bigger guns are killing people. 50 people walked out of their door for the last time on June 12, 2016. They walked out believing they had another day to try again. Another day to tell someone that they loved them. Another day to have that argument they said they would wait for. Another day to kiss someone. Another day to mak...

I have been thinking a great deal about access. This is better than excellence. The term itself implies that something is bad in order for something to be great. We live in a country with excellent healthcare options, but the access is limited and controlled by insurance companies. Even with the Affordable Healthcare Act, which is a step in the right direction, individuals and families continue to literally die waiting for approvals and the green light for necessary life-saving services and procedures. Artists know the threat of living without coverage since we are only eligible through Actors Equity after working at least 20 weeks or more in order to gain a few months of coverage. This is close to impossible to achieve when most regional theaters (that employ over 80% of current working actors) only do shows that last 9 to 10 weeks a piece. And let us not even start with SAG-AFTRA, which provides coverage based on weeks of work. Most of us get co-star roles, which only tape for a day ...

Now this may seem like a topic that has no place on a blog about acting and education and being a single parent. But, in reality it has every right to be here because eviction, inconsistent income, and being a single parent coincides with each other on a daily basis. And since re-reading Eviction by Matthew Desmond and the New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander to prepare to co-facilitate a few book talks this summer, this time around I was left with the gnawing sensation at the pit of my stomach of, "What can I do? or What can we do? or even better "Why has this been such a consistent problem?" I have chosen this path of uncertainty because it brings me great joy.  But many of of my fellow artists work jobs that they hate and love in order to stay in this life we call show business. When you watch documentaries about working actors versus famous people the constant struggle is money. A few have family and significant others who provide the security necessary for them to k...

I went to a callback today filled with some beautifully talented Black women ranging from age 10 to 65. The talent that came from each of their souls brought chills, tears and smiles all at once. And yes, it was an audition, a competition, to see who was the best. But, all I could see was the best all around me and inside of my very soul. It reminded me of the synergy that Black Girl Power truly brings. A Black woman can radiate your entire spirit with a single word or gesture. And yet, there are times that I feel lost in the mediocrity and bullshit. I forget our collective beauty and get mired in the dirt and grime that comes with life. The dirt and grime that comes with the loss of a loved one, and the death of a relationship. The dirt and grime that comes from an ungrateful child trying to find their way. I forget that like a diamond covered in coal, there is still beauty there. Beauty that is rock solid and never changing. It can never be diminished and it will never be hidden fo...

The word grateful is thrown around quite a bit, but there are moments when we are so immersed in our own pity party that we forget how to be grateful and why it is vital that we are. No matter how jacked up the day, week, minute, hour or year may be, there is something to be grateful for. So this is what I am grateful for on April 16, 2016. I am grateful for the air that I breathe that allows me to wake up each morning because I am not promised that I will. Grateful for family, my mom, my aunt, James, my great aunt, and my many cousins who I adore and who always teach me by example that love and support can and should be reciprocal. Grateful to be Maya' s mom because there are many moments that she teaches me something new about life and myself. She is an awesome teen! Grateful for my network in the struggle to make Philly a better place for everyone, by reaching and touching one person at a time. And in turn becoming a better person for working with them. My extended family in t...

Last night I held a concert. It was titled, "Escape From Purgatory: The Concert," because the last several months have been interestingly difficult. I discovered something new and familiar about a person that I had known for over 30 years. I say familiar because some of the behaviors were not as much a surprise as they were disappointing. The final straw involved child endangerment and that is when I had to take care of me and Maya and split. This led me on a path that reminded me each day that I was single, Black, had poor credit, and was the mother of a teenager. I had forgotten that housing could be so elusive. In the midst of it all, my network of friends helped and we found temporary refuge as I continued to be shown places that even a local crack head would think twice about moving into. And it reminded me that many of our women are even more vulnerable than I ever was because they have no one. And the person that I spoke of treated me as if I had no one, and that is ...