Broadway Loves the White 'Diva' but Shuns the 'Difficult' Black Performer

GUEST EDITORIAL

The author is a Broadway actor who has requested anonymity for fear of reprisals.

Originally Published 1/7/2021

A few days ago, I watched the reunion special for The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. As a Black woman in her 40s this show had a huge impact on shaping my life. But beyond the funny moments and tribute to James Avery, what struck me the most about this special was the return of Janet Hubert. Her discussion with Will Smith about her departure from the show hit me very hard. At one point, she tells Smith how him publicly calling her difficult was a “kiss of death” in Hollywood.

When she said that, it went right to my heart. I know exactly what she’s talking about. I’ve been there. That was me.

Around a decade ago, I was in a similar position as Ms. Hubert. I was cast in a Broadway production that already had a lot of buzz and dollars attached to it before we even started rehearsing. This was the first time I had been cast in a production like this, so I was thrilled.

The rehearsal process was a dream. The chemistry between everyone was off the charts. But there were some issues as well. I’m a question-asker. If there’s something I don’t understand in the blocking, choreographer, character, I’m going to ask questions about it. I never asked out of turn, t would always happen when the person in power asked if anyone had any questions. I asked questions because the director told us at the beginning to ask questions if we needed to.

Apparently, that was a trap. Because I found out years later, that me asking questions somehow developed into me being known as someone difficult to work with.

As soon as I heard that word, my heart sank. I almost quit the industry entirely because what’s the point? Once labeled as a difficult black performer, that’s it for you.

But what irks me to no end is that while I was labeled difficult for asking questions during rehearsals, I’ve seen countless white performers who were actually difficult or pulled stunts that should have gotten them blacklisted, yet are cast over and over and over again.

I’ve seen white performers show up late for call or call out at the last minute for reasons they’re not being honest about. I’ve seen white performers treat dressers like shit. I’ve seen white performers throw fits in rehearsal studios, dressing rooms, and recording booths. I’ve seen white performers yell at directors, call SM’s every name in the book, and ridicule their colleagues. The behavior of some white performers is legendary. Yet their employment is never threatened. Producing teams don’t shun them, they try to appease them.

But for me, for us, for the black performer? We’re the ones who have to behave, stay in line, don’t act out. We’re the toxic element that needs to be removed for the production to go on as a cohesive unit.

Why? I wish I knew the answer to that. Is it because production teams are afraid of the angry black performer? Like as if it’s scarier than the angry white performer? Is it because we’re easier to replace? I don’t know.

All I know is that it’s wrong and egregiously unfair. Every theatre professional should be respectful, but we cannot hold black theatrical professionals to a different standard from our white colleagues.

I thought about putting my name in this article, but I know better. I’d rather work as much as I do being known as a “difficult” black performer than being completely shunned for being an “honest” one.