The Never Ending Family

As a child 'The Never Ending Story' was the most frightening film I had ever seen! I understood it was not in the horror genre, but all of that floaty intangible weirdness, strange beings and the fact that it JUST NEVER ENDED was far too much for me! For a while now it has felt like my life has created a strange echo to this film: The Never Ending Family...

For as long as I can remember, it's been me, my mum and my bro. Close knit but with a strange 'Don't ask, don't tell' attitude towards our personal lives. My dad had always been at the edge of the frame, close enough to love but too far away to trust. There is a long and meandering story detailing mine and my dad's relationship, but ultimately he's been a persistently wayward figure who I've kept trying to remember is a human being as well as a dad. Obviously we all have faults, so in 2007 after a few years in absentia, my dad returned and we became mates again! We developed a new version of father/daughter life and everything was ok. My close family jumped back up to 4!

3 years ago, my father revealed the existence of 2 teenage brothers living in London. I didn't really know how to deal with this so just stopped speaking to dad and pretended that this major life explosion had not happened.

Last week I received a message from my older sister! Oh shit! I've just discovered my third secret sibling in as many years...

And now I feel scared of what other bloodties will drip through the gaps and stain my life. Staring at a man in the street I wonder if he could be my relation & though I feel guilty about it, I have no more love to give (is that a song?!). I question every positive memory I have with my father and consider the fact that he has lied to em every die of my life. Wow, this is getting dark...

I hope that writing this will be some type of cathartic purge and make me feel better. I worry it may not! I'm sharing this quaint little tale to try not to be ashamed and also to recognise that there is no normality when it comes to family dynamic and no perfection, so here's me throwing my hat into the ring. I am (somewhat) ready for what life has to bring.

White Noise

I've never really had a problem with sleeping, until I had mice.
I've never really had a problem with mice, until they started living in my house...

After discovering mice not only in hung out in my flat, but navigated their way to my bedroom too, I developed a fear of sleeping. Literally paralysed with an irrational fear (it's not like they could kill me), I often cried, refused to sleep alone and one night I found myself hiding in the bath screaming at a mouse who had got trapped in my bin!!!! I stayed up all night and in the morning had to facetime a friend to coach me through getting back in to my room for clean clothes and an escape plan!
Whilst the infestation was being dealt with, I genuinely became more and more mentally fragile. In my head I silently overreacted to every crumb left in the kitchen by my flatmates, and engaged in OCD tendencies to try and find some control in the situation. At night, heart beating with extreme anxiety I struggled to switch off and every sound was a potential danger. Like a child afraid of the dark and afraid of the unknown, the fear of mice grew exponentially into a fear of being alone. The last moment in the day, when action has abated and waiting for sleep; I found myself trapped in a fuzzy gap in the middle. My coping mechanism was white noise. Loud, in my ears, white noise.


White noise is a strange sound to get acquainted to and though it often woke me up, I began to meditate into the sound as a bizarre comfort blanket. Somehow this abrasive sound became my friend and held my hand in a dark loneliness. I write this in the past tense, because since going away with my mum (I suppose she was my protector then) and coming back to London, I have slept alone and with no sounds. I have however started waking up at first light, but this seems to be aiding my productivity! I'm reading more, running again and trying to turn off the tv (more displacement sounds). Now I listen to the trains chug past me and the crows caw, and though I am still afraid of mice, and still alone, I have created my own white noise. Softer and more generous than the exterior sounds, I welcome this pause from the myriad of thoughts & fears in my head, and hope that eventually I will be able to enjoy the silence in life.

To Be (Black) or Not To Be (Black)

I'm on the penultimate day of my holiday so I've missed the initial explosion that was Rachel Dolezal, but I would have had to be on the moon to avoid the full fall out. My reaction has been of incredulity and confusion, but there also seems to be a lot of anger out there. The concept of changing race is a bizarre one, but are we most shocked because 'why would anyone WANT to be black?'. As this story bulldozes the heartless prejudice against a young black girl at a pool party, and we are becoming increasingly aware of racial disparity, again who would WANT to be black? I have spent the last 9 days in Zambia and though on the whole I have had a joyous time, occasionally I have witnessed a shocking level of disrespect & disdain towards the indigenous people. What I can only describe as 'ancient Rhodesians' incredible rudeness and ignorance, made me question again who would WANT to be black?

Let's be honest the trend has always been to westernise and white'ise' from black. Michael Jackson (debatable), skin lightening creams (frighteningly     available in Africa AND Peckham) and the type of adverts I've watched today that show few or no dark black faces and certainly not at educated levels, recognise a white supremacy in our daily lives. 

I have known people of dual heritage in UK, to in effect disown the more foreign part of them and see themselves only as English. There are cases of children adopted into a family of another race who don't recognise any difference, even in skin colour. What about Mowgli?! I jest but there have been a number of stories about children living with and as wild animals in the last decade. The point is: We are what we know. Of course Dolezal's transformation was a manipulated one, but is it so crazy to believe that growing up with her 4 black siblings she developed an identity aligned with them. Watching (I presume) a generic discrimination towards her brothers and sisters both at home in the U.S. and world wide, her political and personal ideology perhaps grew into something that transcended race. Is that even possible? I don't know! 

I am half Ghanian and half English. Half black and half white. To some dark and others light skinned, and I suppose sometimes I navigate around the semantics of my race dependent on where I am or who I am with. In Zambia the guys selling curio love calling me 'Sister from another mother' and I embrace the African side of me!

Whatever her reasonings, Dolezal has proactively done more (this furore aside) campaigning for civil right and equality in her role at the NAACP than I have ever done, and for that Rachel I thank you. 

It may not be physically possible, but is it so bad to want to be black? That is the question.

The Understudy

You've got an audition with a major theatre- hooray!

It's for an understudy role- Oh...

A mini rollercoaster of emotions ranging from the pathetic pleasure of just getting an audition, to mild annoyance verging on anger and finally fear. Almost 8 years since graduating from LAMDA, there are still plenty of times that auditions are thin on the ground and so of course I can't be picky. But of course I can actually, because this is my chosen career and I'm quite good it at when given the chance, so it's hard to subdue the disappointment when I get a casting but it's nowhere near the 'dream role' (even if I make it on stage) and potentially not even a script I'm interested in, but I suppose that's the nature of the beast.

I have always imagined being an understudy to be the hardest thing to do. Expectations are just as high but with minimal rehearsal time and therefore less ability to develop relationships with your fellow actors and even trust in yourself. I truly questioned if I was up to the job of being an understudy, surely these need to be the most dexterous, talented and confident in the pack and it can be hard to feel that when in effect you're second choice. Regardless, I went to the audition and it was surprisingly lovely & any anger I had was wholly unwarranted. I didn't get it (I'm presuming!) but it was a positive experience and also made me think about my general attitude at the moment; am I living my life as an understudy?

Sometimes it seems that I'm filling time. Each day is a necessary step to get to the next and inevitably something of substance has got to materialise at some point. I find myself waiting, waiting for love, waiting for a career, waiting for something more than I have and it is debilitating. I have removed myself from engaging in my own life and it's time to press play again.

This morning I got back on my bike and cycled through the rain to the Sonia Delaunay exhibition at the Tate. Overwhelmed by the beauty of this retrospective, much to the amusement of other visitors I found myself smiling manically as I walked through. Her life was art and art was life. Daily reality was interwoven and intrinsically bound with each piece and for the first time in a long time, I felt present. London can be the loneliest place to live, exposed to everything but connecting with nothing, however this morning I stopped pretending and just enjoyed a real moment. Subsequently, I sought out art, colour & inspiration visiting the Tate Britain & Southbank Centre with my good friend Rob and the world felt just a little more glorious! An epiphany of understanding that all of this contributes to my life as an artist and that if I wait forever, I will miss today and will have always been my own understudy.

I'm not entirely sure what this means but I promise to try and take centre stage, fully recognising that this may never be the stage I had aspired to. At risk of sounding utterly contrived and pretentious, life is for living and I better start now.

When Everything Hurts

My head hurts.

My fingers hurt.

My legs, my eyes, my chest hurts. You get the picture; everything hurts. And when everything hurts it's hard to achieve simple things; to get out of bed in the morning and clean my teeth. Unable to catch my breath and quell the nausea dominating my stomach. Speaking to a man in the shop without tearing up and having the energy to eat more than toast is difficult. I struggle to fight the need to embrace a black shroud over my life. When one thing breaks, everything else seems so fragile and I yearn for the ability to press pause. I crave a small dark fuzzy space- where the world cannot touch me and I cannot reach anything. Understanding this is a temporary blip does however begin to alleviate the pain and the chasm of crap I'm swimming in.

Things change and perspective shifts. A break up is tough but so is life! Little things help:

Washing my hair- South Pacific really had something there.

Watching the Office- literally laughing though tears...

A quick run- fresh air and focussing on something other than sadness with added endorphins too.

Talking- fight the need to cut yourself off. On Saturday I felt lonely, Sunday angry and this week I feel so loved and cared for by a brilliant bunch of friends.

 

Finally, do something unexpected. Old habits die hard and my usual coping mechanisms are not the healthiest so I'm not going to drink excessively or try and make extreme or ridiculous changes to myself and life. Instead I booked a holiday! I relinquish control of things that are out of my hands and people that do not need to be fixed. A positive escape, not running away but taking a little time for myself in the sun. I sign this off as the plane is about to take off. The physical manifestations of heartache will begin to dissolve as my heart and mind meet again. Rising into the clouds with a sense of acceptance and the wonderment that everything will not hurt forever.

 

When there's a WILPF, there's a way

Recently I have been wavering in my faith; my faith in my being an actor and my faith in the industry as a whole. It is my involvement with WILPF and a play called 'Breaking the Silence' that has refreshed my soul as an actor and my dynamism as a woman.







In February I was lucky enough to travel to New York with Breaking the Silence to perform 3 shows at The Soho Playhouse and 1 unique reading at the UN with WILPF. Starting drama school at 18 I believed theatre could change the world and despite years of frustration and disappointment, working at the UN began to reinstate my teenage belief. BTS was originally written for Human Rights Watch as a collection of stories about rape survivors, domestic abuse & human trafficking, to breathe life into words of silenced women, voicing unsung songs from worlds we have never encountered and dire situations we hope to never face and to do this in a room of researchers and policy makers was truly overwhelming.




This week I have again been working with The Women's International League of Peace and Freedom (WILPF) celebrating their 100 year anniversary. Hundreds of women and men, Nobel laureates and professors gathered in The Hague to ignite ideas, share stories and promote change. Performing excerpts from BTS, we shared the stage with a plethora of inspiring people. From fiery freedom poetry to an all encompassing belly dancing workshop; the space was vibrant and alive. Dr Kaouthar wowed the audience shaking her booty in a beautiful traditional, non sexualised way that I can only dream my future daughters would learn. A community of women and peace makers snaked their hips with undulating arms in protest of war.



The following day we performed the full play on the immense stage at The World Forum and selfishly felt that actor high! The intense joy of performance and using ones craft for a valid & tangible purpose. 








WILPF supports the empowerment of women and I feel empowered, leaving a conference saturated with new visions and inclusivity. Empowered not only as an actor but a woman with a voice to be heard; I don't know where I will be in the next year but I know that I will fight to be included. I echo the closing words of the play:















'We know that when women are active participants in civil society, when women are included in the peace process, when women are respected, where women are part of the dialogue- there is great stability and greater progress- faster.'



With thanks to Katrina Syran, Susan Craig and the cast and creatives of Breaking the Silence.



Keep up to date with WILPF



Watch BTS monologues live at the UN

The Shine ™

Walking through a sunny London early this morning, trainers on my feet & music in my ears, I literally bounded through the streets and imagined I was in the opening titles of my film. 'The Life of Amelia Donkor so far' (title TBC) is a gentle perusal of a sometimes debaucherous, often excitable woman and her existence. I'm really quite happy right now and enjoying the plotlines thus far, however I'm not entirely sure who the author is because 29 years in I'm not exactly where I expected to be professionally. A decade after graduating from LAMDA I have had a fair to middling career, and though my passion has not waned, my frustration has grown!

Catching up with a couple of actor friends this week, one of them coined the term 'The Shine™' and it has stuck with me. Questioning why it was nigh on impossible to be seen for certain companies/jobs or finding yourself in 2nd place perpetually, she cleverly suggested it was because we didn't have 'The Shine™'. Now, 'The Shine™' cannot be bought, can't really be earnt, it is an intangible, magical light bestowed upon the chosen few. An actors desire, intellect and talent has no bearing on 'The Shine™', though please note that some with 'The Shine™' are bloody brilliant, it's just not correlational. In my bid to save us all from getting dirty, here are my top tips to getting 'The Shine™':

• Turn Back Time

This is not necessarily age related, but if you have the ability to rewind time and get that freshly graduated glow it will do you the world of good. The taste of the unknown and possibility of plucking a star from obscurity is an exciting prospect for the industry and may create the required shine; please note this method does have a warranty which normally runs 12-18 months after the time machine has landed.

• Sleep your way to The Shine™

Now this one is morally contentious and may not work in any way, but beggars can't be choosers! This is gender neutral but of course does require some research on sexual orientation, promiscuity etc of your chosen target.

• Reality Bites

If training and commitment won't cut the mustard, maybe a stint on reality television might? You may not make it to the upper echelons of getting dropped in a jungle or trapped in a house, but you're only one tragedy away from having that X Factor!


So there are my words of wisdom on how to get The Shine™. If I scrub long and hard enough I might find something someone else is looking for, but deep down I think I might be shiny enough.