Clair Huxtable was the best, right? She was wickedly intelligent, a loving mother, an adoring partner, and her hair remained perfectly coiffed throughout all of those fictional Brooklyn summers. The same could be said for Phylicia Rashad, the actress who portrayed this character for over eight years. Late last year, I attended a talk with Ms. Rashad hosted at NYU. She spoke about her experiences in theatre and Hollywood, workshopped a few scenes with some talented members of the Graduate Acting class, and most importantly, shared her wisdom with a roomful of doe-eyed artist wannabes.
I was suspended in her grace for the majority of the night and clung on to every word she said, but then someone asked a question.
Someone: What advice do you have for those of us in the room who want to work in the entertainment industry, but are too scared to try?
Living Legend Phylicia Rashad: My advice is to just go for it because there is no limit to your potential. Each and every one of you in here is capable of so much greatness. You have no idea how capable you are.
Me (to myself of course): GTFOH Clair!
There absolutely are limits! At that point in my life, I had recently graduated from a school I didn’t love with a degree I didn’t treasure and, worst of all, was working in the fashion industry. Me? Fashion!? I OWN APPROXIMATELY TWO DRESSES AND WEAR THE SAME DIRTY ADIDAS EVERY DAY!!!
^^^^^ EVERY. SINGLE. DAY
As everyone in that auditorium applauded Ms. Rashad’s answer, I was left stewing. It felt like all of my goals were a lifetime away and this glorious, successful woman had the nerve to tell me (and 200 others) that I (and 200 others) was capable of greatness?
But, several months later, I think I get it. This is why. Last weekend, I was fortunate enough to attend the opening night and following after party of the Off-Broadway revival of Smokey Joe’s Café: The Songs of Leiber and Stoller.
To some, this may not seem like anything to write home (or a blog post) about. To me, it was prettttttty freaking cool. There I was, a lowly former intern, schmoozing with writers, cast members, talent managers, leading producers, Tony nominees, and Todrick Hall who randomly showed up for about fifteen minutes and then disappeared into thin, super talented air. And, get this, the most thrilling part of it all was that I did not feel out of place. Somewhere after my third plate of onion rings, but before my fourth glass of chardonnay, I had an epiphany. All of these awesome people that I so greatly admired…WERE…NOT…GENIUSES. They weren’t prophets, or deities, or prodigies. They were people who value art and worked extremely hard to create it. A.k.a, they were adult versions of me. (Why yes, I am still rejecting the notion that I am also an adult, thank you so much)!
Why was this a revelation? Well, there has never been anyone in my family or friend group with a career that I want to emulate. There aren’t many artists or writers or producers with high-profile connections. The other day my father asked me “what does Drake sing?” So, yeah, that’s what I’m dealing with. Because of this, the life I dreamt of felt impossible. I deemed the entertainment industry a place solely reserved for exceptional people with exceptional gifts. I don’t anymore. Over the course of this year, I have managed to scramble my way onto sets and theatres and enjoy a diverse array of artistic experiences. Don’t get me wrong, there is A LOT left to figure out. There are so many more people to meet. There’s a universe of things to learn. There’s a handful of habits to break. I have to write more. I have to act on ambition. I have to stop living above my (non-existent) means. I am not yet my idea of successful. Maybe you aren’t either. But, if you can, stand around someone who is doing the thing that you want to do. Watch them. Talk to them. Stay around for a spell. Chances are, you’ll realize that you can do it too.
P.S. If you’re wondering about Smokey Joe’s Cafe and whether or not you should go see it, the answer is YES. It’s 90 minutes of beautifully sung throwbacks including “Stand By Me,” which is every black choir’s favorite warm up song.
BRITTANI WITH AN I 