When the lights came up on the final night of my play Emergence-See! at a small New York theater festival two years ago, stage and screen legend Ruby Dee stood and applauded with tears in her eyes—and I knew my journey with the play would change. After years of self-financed workshops and knocking on countless doors to no avail, I was being told by the actress/activist who is considered "the Queen" in the African-American community that she believed in my voice as an artist and felt my work "should be performed in stadiums."
Soon I was fortunate enough to travel with Ms. Dee and her husband, Ossie Davis who died last year, to the Kennedy Center to perform on a tribute to African-American legends in the performing arts. Then, on February 28, 2006, Ms. Dee presented Emergence-See! at a 750-seat theater in Harlem. We received nearly 3,000 reservations, including one from Oskar Eustis, artistic director of the Public Theater. After the performance, he offered me a contract on the spot.
As an artist, I am interested in exploring the truth that we are all connected. I was raised in an African-American community in Ohio until my freshman year of high school, when I earned a scholarship to a private school in the suburbs. I then attended Yale University and did graduate work at the American Conservatory Theater. Having had the opportunity to travel throughout the U.S., Europe and Africa as a performer, I am constantly reminded of how similar human beings are across lines of race, class, gender, religion and sexuality. We all have white bones. We all long to have our dreams realized, to love and be loved.
In my play, a slave ship rises out of the Hudson River in front of the Statue of Liberty in 2006. Like this metaphor, all the of play's characters have to face obstacles floating in front of their freedom. Over the course of 90 minutes, I play 43 individuals ranging from the ghost of a 400-year-old African Chief to a 13-year-old girl in the projects living with HIV. Each of the characters responds to this unexpected phenomenon and how it affects their personal journeys to be free—free to love, to be who they truly are, to make their lives beautiful.
As I developed this play over the past six years, I envisioned diverse audiences being provoked to laughter, tears and personal exploration. At one performance, I spotted a 16-year-old high school student sitting with her mother and grandmother. Each generation was able to relate to the play. As audiences flock to Emergence-See! at the Public, I am moved by the sea of faces looking back at me and by their heartfelt responses to my work. I am moved because it's a confirmation that each of us has a unique story to tell, that the way to the universal is through the personal, and that when our purpose is clear and we do not give up, our stories will be heard.