Being a Black Artist in a Predominately White Space
A letter to White American Theatre and BIPOC Theatre-Makers
Amid the protests of #BlackLivesMatter, a variety of Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC) theatre-makers have come together to protest the racial injustices and racism prevalent in the theatre community.
In reading the letter, I was not shocked. Rather, I began to cry as it felt all too familiar.
The theatre industry appears to be one of the most accepting communities. People from all walks of life, every creed and color, together on one stage.
Yet, I’ve felt my voice silenced (or amplified only in an “attempt” to discuss race).
On many occasions, I’ve been the only black face in the room. Taught to assimilate or fail to receive work.
Forced to “play the game”.
Denied the ability to be angry or frustrated in fear of being labeled “an angry black man”.
Waiting with anticipation for the only black faculty member to direct a show, because I knew that if I were to audition, at least I’d have a shot.
Why should I assimilate to these sensibilities? Why cast me if you never wanted to see/experience my blackness? Why does a single black/ethnically diverse faculty member have to serve as my savior?
Most institutions and theatre companies are hiding behind the terms “diversity and inclusion”. Although they’re often placed front and center in their mission statements, very few companies believe in it.
Their “passion” for diversity is only a diversion. An attempt to avoid a thorough investigation into the structure and culture of their institutions. An impression that the “hard work” is being done behind closed doors, while decisions are being made behind an all-white Board of Directors.
Diversity initiatives and programs are not being created and outreach to BIPOC communities isn’t happening or little at all.
Meanwhile, money is being made off the backs of BIPOC artists and their work.
It’s performative.
Through #BlackLivesMatter, many companies had the chance to stand by their mission statements and show solidarity with BIPOC theatre-makers. Many failed to answer the call.
Why?
Money. Popular perception. Clear neglect.
Let me also be clear: Broadway is only part of a larger issue. Suppression and racism occur at school. From high school to college, many BIPOC theatre-makers have faced these troubles.
This idea of comfort stands as a clear problem. In response, I say:
Theatre doesn’t have to make you feel comfortable.
It’s supposed to agitate and create discourse. From its inception, the theatre was created to question society. BIPOC theatre-makers are continuing to do so.
These attempts to nullify and suppress the stories of BIPOC theatre-makers and the realities of being a Black, Indigenous, Person of Color in America is racist.
Only searching to include BIPOC voices in productions where their voice seems “appropriate” or “authentic” only serves to perpetuate racism and racist stereotypes.
Suppressing or re-packaging stories from BIPOC theatre-makers to fit within your pre-conceived notions of race or inequality is offensive and racist.
People praise productions like Hamilton for its use of BIPOC actors, hailing it as a marvel. A phenomenon. A once in a lifetime event. In truth, productions like Hamilton should be the norm, not a “once in a lifetime event”.
BIPOC artists shouldn’t have to wait for a West Side Story, The Color Purple, or a Hamilton to get their time on the stage.
While our stories may be entertaining, we’re not here for your entertainment. We’re here to tell our truth. We’re here to lift our voice.
So, to White American Theatre:
We’ll continue to call out racism in your ranks, businesses, and theatre-houses.
We’ll continue to rise and meet you head-on.
We’ll continue to apply pressure until the requisite changes are made because that’s what we’ve been called to do. To inspire change.
Enough is enough.
#WeSeeYou and we’ve always seen you.
To the brave BIPOC theatre-makers who’ve signed this letter to White American Theatre:
Your actions have instilled a greater sense of confidence in myself to pursue my dreams and to speak on my reality. I’m sure it’s also inspired millions of theatre-makers to do the same.
Being a black theatre-maker in a predominately white space is hard, but knowing my experiences are not simply an individual issue but a larger systemic issue does provide a sense of comfort.
I hope it’s something we’ll continue to fix together.
I stand with you, in awe of you. Thank you.
