As a 5th generation Detroiter, I was born and raised in a city that has hope built in its bones. Even before it became “Motown” the place known for birthing some of the best music in the United States or “Motorcity” the heart of the American auto industry, in the 1800’s it was known as the final spot on the Underground Railroad before achieving freedom in Canada. Detroit bore the weight of the hopes of my ancestors with grace. The Detroit River was a liminal space between no longer enslaved but not yet free. Those who decided to cross the river held hope for a better life on the other side like a song in their lungs. I respect and honor their decision. Those who decided to stay in Detroit held hope in their hands that they could build a better home here. They believed that the country that had subjugated them for so long could also be a place of safety and salvation. I respect and honor their decision as well.

The weight of that hope is what I bring to my craft as a playwright. The hope that under duress no matter the decision I have made the right choice. The hope that through my work as an artist/activist I can challenge systems of oppression for Black women/femmes and fight against capitalist systems. Most recently my work has been about interrogating how much hope hurts and how we can heal.Sometimes, that healing is an emotional healing such as addressing my family's battle with bi-polar disorder. Sometimes, that healing is social/political like my one-woman show where I discuss my college journey, student debt, and examine the racial wealth gap and other educational inequalities. Sometimes, that healing is spiritual and cultural like my play “At God’s Back” where I explore the Jamaican spiritual practice of Obeah and how we search for a power outside of ourselves in the face of oppression.

My goal as a playwright is to infuse my collaborators and audience members with the hope to continue fighting and pressing forward.