From May 2017 – March 2018, I was the target of racial harassment, discrimination, and hostile work environment at the behavior of my then superior.

I endured racial slurs, derogatory comments regarding my “nappy” hair texture, her plotting my career sabotage, attempting to provoke me to “act black” in the stereotypical way she thought I should, attempting to psychologically manipulate me to break down my good relationship with my subordinates, verbally threatening to “bring out the ethnic” in me, attempts to embarrass and/or humiliate me during full staff meetings, and just downright mean, immoral, unprofessional, and unlawful behavior solely based on the color of my skin. That’s just SOME of what I endured for 10 months! Ten LONG months! I NEVER thought I’d have to endure such! If you’ve never been attacked like that, for something you can’t do anything about, I pray you never are. It strips you of you. It makes you question every social encounter with the other race you’ve ever had and ever will have. It makes you feel weak. It robs you of the simplest peace. The simple peace of being comfortable in your own skin. The one place you should always feel safe…secure…happy…confident…whole.

She was terminated after a rather brief HR investigation after a couple of angels reported things they’d witnessed first hand. Those couple of reported instances rapidly grew into an HR explosion! Frankly, the stacked offenses were far too great to warrant a longer investigation or an outcome other than termination. The evidence was very clear, to say the least.

For months, I’d walked around with such vile anger towards ANY strange white person who offended me. Even passing in front of me on the bread aisle at WalMart without so much as an “excuse me” would initiate an angry comment.

That wasn’t me at all! I could feel myself changing into someone I had no interest in being. So, I politely informed my company that I needed to seek counseling, but I wasn’t paying for it. They obliged. How could they not, right?

It was brutal, hurtful, abusive, invasive and I’m still in counseling 14 months later. My God-sent therapist asked me, what it was about this particular racist encounter that made me seek counseling. She said as a black woman living in America, that it certainly wasn’t the first time I’d dealt with racism, so what about this particular encounter nudged me to feel I needed counseling?

Change. It was its invasive, prolonged, threatening brutality that I could feel changing me from inside like a visceral parasite. It was so bad, I simply shut down and that’s one thing I never do. No matter the situation. I felt so abused, beat down, defeated, insulted, broken, and weakened on a daily basis, that I saw no other option but to just shut down. I gave up on ever waking up from that nightmare. I cried every single weekday morning when my alarm went off. I silently screamed, begged, pleaded to ANY God for no more. I didn’t care if it was by way of MY firing. I just needed it to be over. No more! I wasn’t sure how much more of it I could take. No more! I was confused at how being the bigger person felt so–small. The ordeal was changing me.

I was diagnosed with situational depression. I won’t lie to you. Hearing it out loud was jarring. Depression is NOT like television. Television shows us depression to its extremes. Yet, here I was still functioning, happy, traveling–hated my job, but few people REALLY love a job anyway, right? I mean, that was normal, I thought.

Only, it’s not about being “normal.” It’s about developing the tools to navigate the worst of emotions. See! I was doing the work– and healing!

Fast forward to Fall 2018. I was asked if I’d like to audition for a musical in my hometown. I currently live an hour and a half away from my hometown, so to be thought enough of to be asked sent a wave of warmth over me. Some real healing was on the cusp, but I wouldn’t realize it until later.

For weeks, I began remembering that at my foundation, there are people who have known and loved me for as long as I can remember, regardless of my skin color. Back home, at my very foundation, are/were people, outside of family, who saw every special thing about me and encouraged it all–educators, administrators, managers, community leaders, friends. They all contributed to my successes just by treating me as we should all treat each other. I couldn’t let one (and her few minions) who were threatened by the color of my skin (for whatever reason) change who I am at my core!!!

The first read through for “Mamma Mia!” was the Monday after Thanksgiving. I had NO idea this was the beginning of even more healing. As a musically inclined person, I know how good I feel after singing, listening to music, drawing, painting, visiting a museum, seeing a play, etc. I know the scientific proof of the effect art has on us. Yet, I had NO idea how therapeutic this was going to be at this moment in my life. It’s like the opportunity presented itself when I needed it most.

Initially, I was nervous about meeting new white people and spending a huge chunk of my time with them. (Just being honest). We can’t deny that my hesitation and fear was absolutely validated. I’d been traumatized by SUCH an invasive and personal attack on who I am! Could I hold it together if it happened again to the same magnitude?

What if a cast mate just didn’t like me because of something I can’t change about myself (race) in such an intimate occasion that’s so close to my heart? Would it change how I feel about performing in the way it sucked ALL the joy out of work? Would I shut down again, resulting in a less than stellar performance and disappoint the directors, patrons, my alma mater, friends, and family?

I spent the weeks between January and mid-March singing, dancing, and acting with some amazingly kind, talented, fun, compassionate, and diverse people. I’d been nervous for nothing! I reconnected with old friends and made new ones. I utilized this creative outlet to HEAL, without even realizing it. I can’t even type that without tears welling in my eyes, because every person involved, every note, every line, every dance step, every prop, every audience member, every minute of rehearsals was SO significant to dispelling my deep-seated resentment.

Art HEALS! Art has been scientifically proven to heal by transforming physiological and emotional states, and mental perception. Art changes brain wave patterns. It transforms fear to inspiration. It boosts the immune system and enhances blood flow. It changes the attitude! It alters your perception of pain. If you don’t believe it, just try it!

My therapist saw it all over me throughout having been cast, through rehearsals, and finally performances. My transformation was exciting for both of us! Sessions have been decreased to once a month with a service termination date in sight! I’m almost there. I was always “doing the work,” but performing in “Mamma Mia!” upped the ante!

I could NOT be more grateful for the opportunity to have played “Rosie Mulligan.” Her strong, assertive, and fun personality was EXACTLY the kind of character I needed to mimic in order to reignite myself after having been stifled for so long. The directors, musical director, photographers, videographers, choreographers, costume designers, cast, stage crew, (and anyone else I’m accidentally leaving out) have NO idea how much being around them and creating something spectacular together helped me in the healing process and I am FOREVER grateful to every soul of my theater family for their influences! ❤️

ART HEALS!