In society, we have to earn other things of import like trust, respect, money, education, careers, status and etc., so naturally, we find ourselves attempting to earn love, acceptance and validation along with that. Here's the trip: we do it at the cost of other people and, more importantly, ourselves.
Living the life I have lived - being raised by deaf parents, assimilating to a different culture, and the challenges I have faced over time - has given me insight to the fact that each person has their own complex, intricate story, and it's rarely what I suspect it is. We must have compassion and grace for each other. We must.
Once I started to get aligned with the God in me, something hit me hard: I learned that our worth, our validation, our purpose and our acceptance don't stem from what we should do. They don't stem from what we have. They don't stem from what we've done or who we were. They stem simply from the fact that we are.
There were times when I was working three jobs at one time, and I was still auditioning just to make ends meet, and I was hoping that something was going to come through. Especially after you have two degrees, standing solid through the process is sometimes the hardest part because there is no guarantee.
There's competition among women everywhere you go. But back home, we understand that you can look like a variety of things and still be from the same culture. What I'm saying is that I've never felt like I was a light-skinned black woman. Never felt that way because we shared the same culture back home.
There's something scary, knowing that in Florida, someone can pick you up in a car and drive you to 50 states. Back home, it's like, 'Girl, you're 15 minutes away.'
When I came to America, that's when I started to feel that there was a lot of push-back from women. I was definitely made aware that I am light-skinned. I realized that was a thing here.
When I look around at this world, we women need each other so badly, it breaks my heart. Sisterhood is dissipating, and we aren't doing nearly enough to salvage it. Eliminate the crazies in your life, yes. But also look again at those around you.
The Saving Our Cinderellas program is a facet of Saving Our Daughters which is more specifically geared towards using music, theatre, film and television as a means to help build self-esteem in our girls by developing programs that allow them to discover, explore and express their individuality using the arts.
Instead of wanting to be better than other people, let's channel that energy to be better than we were yesterday and then again to be the best we can be tomorrow.
Lift others and yourself as you rise above this mess of comparison. Thank God for those who embraced their true selves and gave us gifts that only they could give: from Steve Jobs to Michael Jackson to Ray Charles to Mark Twain. There are so many more, and the list goes on.
I'm a very spiritual person, and I believe in God and all that kind of stuff. So my perfect type of guy would be spiritually grounded, extremely respectful and funny because I love to laugh.
I would love to share the screen with Meryl Streep, wouldn't we all? I would love to work with Spielberg and Scorsese; that would be lovely. I'm also a huge fan of Johnny Depp and the way he creates his characters, so that would be fun. I mean, any of the greats, really.
I understand that there are a few roles out there and tons of actors. Just because you don't get the big break doesn't mean you're not worthy or that what you have to offer isn't valid.
I do miss my hair because I used to do so much stuff with it, but I do like different levels of short. I had a super short pixie before, and I loved it.
I am very disciplined with my skin - I tone and I moisturize my skin twice a day. I also exfoliate, and I try to get a facial, like, once every two months.
Even though there will be times when I'll need to protect myself - there will definitely be times when I'll have to put up my guard just to monitor what comes in and out of my life - there's a grace there... no pun intended!
'Empire' deals with the black experience, the human experience, sibling rivalry, what it feels like to be ignored or doted upon by a parent, illness, death. There are so many things that I think the audience can identify with.
Because of the fact that being a professional actor is not a career that is widely pursued back home in the Cayman Islands, I never thought it was a viable profession. It didn't even cross my mind. So when I knew I wanted to do theater, I didn't think 'actress,' even though I loved to perform.
Back home, we watch a lot of movies, and that was never available to us. When I came to America, I was like, 'No, it's really coming out this Friday? Not three months from now?'
