Doing the work is a reader-supported newsletter for anyone who is serious about doing the work of anti-racism. It’s a space for learning, accountability, and honest and open reflections on anti-racism, anti-oppression and what it means for brands and communications.
It’s brought to you by Collette Philip, a multi-award-winning founder, writer, coach and facilitator.
It’s the first Friday in Black History Month. The theme is pride and power, but I’m going to come back to that later in the month.
Today I want to share with you an example of something really joyful that happened to me, because I think that Black joy is really important to celebrate.
As Black people, seeking joy has to be our priority, not just this month but throughout the year. The stats don’t lie - the impact of systemic racism and white supremacy is killing our communities on a global scale, yet the world’s priority for us remains exploitation and extraction, not joy. Sobering stuff, right?
Where’s the joy, Collette?
I’ll get there. Too often in Black History Month, Black people are asked, often for free, to share our stories and to focus on trauma and our experiences of racism in a way that is extractive. That’s not about collective learning or healing. It’s about extracting our experiences so that it might make someone feel better for putting on an event, or in the spirit of “learning,”.
But where there’s no follow up or action, that doesn’t constitute learning.
I know that if you’re watching this, it’s likely that’s not what Black History Month is about for you. For you, it’s a space to reflect, learn, share in, and fuel the collective joy of Black people, which is a beautiful thing.
A Night At The Theatre
The reason I’m going to share this story is one, because it was awesome, and two, because I think there are lessons in how we approach this work.
On Tuesday night, I went to the theatre. I saw a play called Every Brilliant Thing at Soho Place in London featuring Lenny Henry, a Black actor who has been on our screens in the UK for decades and is amazing! He’s known primarily for being a comedian, but also a brilliant stage actor. I was super excited with my husband to go and see this play. The play was in quite an intimate space, and we had great seats.
We sat down, two rows back, very chuffed with our view. Lenny Henry himself was already on stage, interacting with the audience, waving, smiling, dancing a little. Then I noticed him going round to members of the audience, talking to them, passing out little bits of paper. I thought, okay, presumably he knows them.
(Spoiler alert if you want to see the play yourself. Sorry.)
Suddenly, I saw him and someone from the production team looking at me and my husband. They were chatting, pointing, smiling. Then Lenny Henry looked at me and smiled. I mouthed, “Me?” He nodded.
He came down and said, “Come here, come here. Can you move into these seats?” He was pointing to the front row, right up against the stage. Great upgrade.
So we moved. Then he said, “Okay, I’m going to hand you this. When I shout out the number on the card, I want you to read it. The context is falling in love in a library. I might look over at you, there might be a bit of flirting. Nothing to worry about, just a smile or a wave. At some point I may also ask your husband to move from his seat, but he won’t be far away, and we’ll move him back. Is that okay?”
I said yes. My husband Lucas said yes too. It sounded fun and we were intrigued.
From Audience Member to Centre Stage
The play itself is about mental health and a specific traumatic experience of the main character, played by Lenny Henry. It involves a lot of audience interaction. Lenny Henry is the only actor on stage, but he pulls on members of the audience to take part. The cards he handed out were prompts for people to read.
I was absorbed in the play and almost forgot I had to read something.
Then my moment came. But it turned out my role wasn’t just reading a card.
I was the love interest.
At one point I had to go on stage with him. We even ended up getting married, with confetti thrown over us. I held his hand. I was in about two-thirds of the play. My husband did have to move from his seat because Lenny Henry sat next to me.
It was incredible. I’ve loved him as an actor for years, and he was absolutely lovely.
(End of Spoilers)
Why It Was So Joyful
It was super joyful, seeing a Black actor doing what he does brilliantly and being part of it myself.
And there’s a lesson here. Often audience participation feels cringe and distracting. But in this play, it wasn’t. It was inclusive, collective, and joyful. Everyone was prepared for their role. People were chosen from all walks of life, different nationalities, different races, different backgrounds and ages.
People were given an opportunity to be part of it, then equipped, facilitated, and supported. Even people who weren’t given something to read, were encouraged to support by cheering along and applauding after an audience member got up on stage.
And even when my role turned into more than I expected, I felt supported and willing to go with it. I’d been prepared. The environment made it easy to engage.
Lessons for Our Work
So here are the points I want to carry into our work.
Don’t assume people won’t want to be involved - Sometimes we don’t ask people to get involved, because we think they won’t want to. Imagine if this play’s director or team had assumed that people wouldn’t want to participate because it’s not very “British”. Or planted a few actors in the audience, to give the impression of participation, but in reality it was staged.
We can’t fake community and collective action. Nor do we need to - most people want to help. Assume positive regard and don’t be afraid to ask!
Prepare people. I was given enough information to feel ready, but not so much that it overwhelmed me or spoiled the play. In anti-oppression work, we often don’t have the full story. It’s long-term work. We don’t know how it ends. Sometimes we think we need to know everything, when in fact we just need to give people enough to feel prepared.
Spread the load. Out of about 200 people, at least 50 or 60 had a role. Everyone had a little to do. No one was overloaded. That way, everyone felt included and supported. And it’s the same in this work. Often we rely on one or two willing people - that just leads to overload, disillusion and burnout. We have to engage the collective.
Bring people on board at scale and make sure the load is shared equally.
Celebrate. At the end, when Lenny Henry bowed, he spotlighted every audience member who had been part of it. My character’s name was called, the spotlight went on me, the audience cheered. I felt celebrated.
This is so important. In this work, we can’t wait until the end, because there isn’t one. We need to celebrate milestones, progress, even lessons from mistakes, along the way.
Rest, Joy, and Black History Month
So that’s my story. Super joyful, super fun, and full of lessons.
This weekend, especially for my Black readers, take time to celebrate and find joy. Don’t feel pressure to share your lived experiences in ways that feel extractive this month. For those of you who are from Global Majority communities, please don’t feel the need to represent Black experiences this month. And for everyone else, show up and support.
Support Black businesses. Support Black-led initiatives and events. Support Black people with more than your words.
Your actions count - not just this month but always.
I’m going on holiday next week, so there won’t be a new Substack, but I’ll share something from the archive.
Paid subscribers, you’re going to get a brand new bonus resource in our chat - a mini video training on 3 ways to kickstart co-production based on the talk I did last week on co-production. (Here’s the Substack where I talked about it).
I’ll be back later this month to talk more about pride and power.
Have a joyful and restful weekend.
Time to take action.
This post is a freebie. However “Doing the Work” is about taking sustained, committed action. Providing resources that can be consumed passively, without commitment or follow up is not in keeping with how we do things or what I know works. Also expecting free labour from Black people is… not in keeping with anti-racist and anti-oppressive work (and if I am enabling this, then I am complicit).
I know that you, as part of our community will agree with this.
