Something to Sing

I’m sitting next to Mae, my niece, who’s doing school work this Monday morning. While my sister checks her work, Mae sings “Tomorrow” from the movie / play Annie under her breath. Mae’s older sister, Lucy, and their friends are putting on a shortened performance of the movie. Mae is pumped to play an orphan. Why i’m telling you this today is because the song, “Tomorrow” has followed me around for most of my life. I wonder if this is a common experience for redheads with curly hair. I cut my hair really short in my late twenties and kept it that length for almost a decade. When I lived in New York, strangers would sing this song at me. This was a regular occurrence. If you ask me if I’m sick of this reference, my answer is always no. Do I think it’s strange that little orphan Annie’s story has stuck with so many people (especially men) of varying ages and races? I do.

But, it always makes me smile. To me, there’s something very sweet about the fact that people are willing to sing that song out loud or greet me as Annie. And being told that tomorrow is a new day (the sun will metaphorically come out) will always be a good reminder to not get bogged down by the stresses of the day. Annie was also a spirited, loyal, curious, funny little girl who carried hope with her, despite her dire circumstances. If I can remind people of her, in any way, I consider it a huge compliment. And now, my nieces are walking around their house singing the all-to-familiar tune and i’m once again reminded to focus on hope, one day at a time.

Something Hard to Understand

Hello from Alabama! I’m celebrating my 39th birthday with family and it’s been a huge blessing already. This prompt feels like an unusual juxtaposition to what’s normally encouraged on a birthday. Plus, when I think about gratitude, the hard to understand things are usually on the other end of the spectrum. Maybe i’ve been labeling that incorrectly. Are the hard to understand things the opposite of gratitude? There have definitely been times in my life when I would’ve said yes. Now, I don’t know. I will probably need to think on it for a bit. I am no stranger to the things that are tricky to understand. In fact, I basically make my bed there these days. My 38th year held several experiences that were just difficult. I’ve also had people confide in me about incredibly painful things. And while I feel incredibly privileged that people have trusted me with such heavy situations, it's heartbreaking to know how many people in this world are hurting. Lately, i’ve been thinking about what being an advocate looks like and how I can make more room in my life for serving within my community. I’m pretty confident that there will always be hard to understand somethings. But as I move into my 39th year, I feel like my approach to the hard things is going to look a little different. Thanks for reading and for all the birthday wishes!

Something You're Proud Of

Because I’ve talked about New York a lot, I’m going to focus on something Atlanta-related. I was a bit of a mess when I moved to Atlanta. And by mess, I mean I felt pretty empty. As I’ve said before, leaving New York was really difficult and never part of the plan once I lived there. I felt invigorated the moment I got to that big nutso city. But getting through the height of the pandemic, saying goodbye to several good friends, the acting world still being pretty shutdown, and my finances even tighter than before, all made for an exhausted, very sad and lonely, me. When I moved to Atlanta, a couple of friends (former NYCers) recommended an acting class to check out. Malik J. Ali’s classes, called Acts of Freedom, was the first acting class I took in town. It was an 8-week intensive and you worked on plays - well written ones. I was assigned a partner who is such a lovely and committed human being, named Cedric. He played football in college and his kindness is as massive as his stature. Cedric and I were paired together to work on a scene from a play, called Detroit 67, by Dominique Morisseau. Our commitment level to the work matched and we met every Saturday, for a few hours, to rehearse during that 8-week span. Part of my gratitude is linked to the fact that his wife was so generous with their time. Because Cedric was working a normal day job, Saturdays were time they could be spending together. So if you’re reading this, thank you Daija.

As the weeks passed, and we worked more on the material in and out of class, it felt good and I trusted Cedric big time. It was a relief to have that routine. What’s nice about Malik’s intensives is that he offers a showcase (performance) at the end for anyone who wants to come see our work. I didn’t get that in New York, so it was awesome to have my roommate there and hear her thoughts, along with a bunch of other people I didn’t know.

Malik challenged me as an actor, in a gentle, thoughtful way. I needed that more than he probably realized. Cedric and I opened the night and four groups followed. I am very proud of what Cedric and I brought to life in the Detroit 67 scene that night. I’m grateful for God’s provision. I see that over and over again in my life. I had an impactful experience with a group of Atlanta actors who I didn’t know before I started - What a gift!