Today, there was a screening of the first three episodes of Black Enough in Charlottesville that most of the cast and crew attended. Currently, they’re all together eating dinner and laughing and probably reminiscing on all the fun. I’m supposed to be there. But I’m not. Because #F**kGreyhoundBuses.
It was honestly very sad. I cried at the Greyhound station. I scared the lady who almost sold me a rental car when I cried again. I really wanted to be there with them, in my new dress and my new earrings and my temporarily purple hair, to celebrate the art we made. I wanted to see all the audience that came to see us. I wanted to see my friends and my sisters. But instead I’ve been eating sushi and half watching things all day, having no plans because I’m not supposed to be home. But, instead of continuing to wallow, I decided to write a blog post about what Black Enough means to me.
We have to go back in time, for me to do this. We have to start with the story I’ve told fiftyleven times, and will probably tell fiftyleven more.
It was my second week of my first year at UVA. I auditioned for Shakespeare on the Lawn. I got a callback for three roles in Romeo and Juliet-- which is one of my favorite plays. I stood in the room of 60 odd people and was one of two non-white people in the room. The only Black person. The only woman of color. The only Black woman.
I thought to myself, “Is this what the next four years of my life doing theatre at UVA is going to be like?” and I was super bummed.
And then it wasn’t. Cause fast forward to Black Monologues. Acting, writing, and assistant directing. Fast forward to Paul Robeson Players. Fast forward to 24 Hour Play Projects, Wake Up! Music, Canaan… fast forward to graduating UVA with a groupme titled “Black UVA Theatre Family” having 30+ people in it, and now being at 80+. Y’all. Not to say UVA has never had thriving Black theatre before we got there. That would be a lie. But when we arrived, in Fall 2014, the idea of something like that was unthinkable.
A lot of people contributed to that. Far too many people to name. But the MVP was Micah Ariel Watson.
Then, there I was again, graduated from UVA, working at Olney Theatre Center. Olney, a place I love so very deeply, but I was the only Black woman. For a year. After that thriving Black arts community we built at UVA? It was ROUGH.
But then, I finish that, and go straight to filming Black Enough. Three weeks. Only three weeks! And the bonds we built, the art we made, the laughs we shared… literally magic. I can’t express to you what it’s like to make art with a bunch of Black people, predominantly Black women. You either know it or you don’t. I’m so lucky to know it.
And then again… I go to ASCTC for my summer. A place I love deeply. And I’m the only Black person, the only person of color, period.
You see what I mean? This is rare. Being able to build a community like this is rare. It’s not in every theatre space. Every film space. Every writing space. It has to be intentionally sought out, it has to be crafted, it has to be maintained. Black Enough has given that to me.
I’ve seen all 13 episodes of Black Enough season 1. Episode 1 drops tomorrow. And it’s amazing. Obviously. Everything Micah touches is magic.
But forget the art, for a second. When you watch it, I want you to think about the community. I want you to think about how rare it is, how special it is, how much love was shared in making that piece of art. I can see it in every episode. I know you’ll be able to see it too.
I don’t know what happens to Black Enough beyond these thirteen episodes. But this bond we built among the cast and crew? That’s for life.
(I wouldn’t be a good digital media strategist if I didn’t say: subscribe to us on Youtube, and follow us on twitter | instagram | facebook.
Episode 1 drops tomorrow. 6pm EST.)
Comments