I trace the roots of inspiration for my play back to a pivotal moment in my life. While training as an actor at Arts University Bournemouth and researching contemporary monologues for my third year showcase, I came across Ntozake Shange’s seminal work, For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf.
Immediately it ignited a fire within me – an affirmation that stories like ours deserved to be showcased in all their unfiltered glory.
Shange’s ground-breaking choreo-poem shattered conventions and challenged the status quo, paving the way for narratives that defied categorisation and demanded to be heard. It was a revelation — a reminder that the stage was not just a platform for entertainment but a sacred space for truth-telling and healing.
As the pandemic unfolded, witnessing the mental anguish endured by so many friends and family members underscored the urgency of completing this project. It became evident to me that now, more than ever, we needed to shine a light on these struggles, to strip away the layers of stigma and shame, and to offer a beacon of hope to those who felt invisible, unheard and misunderstood.
Drawing from Shange’s legacy I embarked on a mission to craft a play that echoed her rawness and authenticity. The creation of For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When The Hue Gets Too Heavy was fuelled by a profound need to confront the silence enveloping mental health struggles within my community.
For me, For Black Boys isn’t merely a play – it’s a deeply personal journey. Growing up as a black man, I navigated a world rife with systemic injustices, cultural and societal expectations.
I witnessed first-hand the toll it took on young black men, grappling with their identities and their mental well-being. My own experiences, coupled with those of my loved ones, drove my determination to bring this story to life.
As an artist, I feel a profound sense of responsibility to honour the resilience, strength, complexities and beauty of the black experience – a journey that I am privileged to now share with audiences in the West End.
The decision to envision the show in its current form was driven by a desire to create an immersive and visceral experience for audiences. By blending spoken-word poetry, music and movement, we sought to transcend the traditional boundaries of theatre and create something joyful, hopeful, and deeply affecting.
It was important to me that For Black Boys not only resonated intellectually but also stirred something deep within the soul.
Bringing the show back to the West End stage is not just a revival; it’s a reaffirmation of the power of storytelling to provoke empathy, spark dialogue, and inspire change.
The strength of feeling from audiences has been overwhelming, humbling, and deeply rewarding – to witness people of all backgrounds, but specifically young black youth, connect so deeply with the struggles and triumphs depicted on stage is profoundly gratifying. For Black Boys has become more than just a play; it’s a catalyst for healing, a catalyst for change.
Yet with this acclaim comes a weighty anxiousness as I constantly tell myself that every word, every gesture, every scene carries the weight of history and the hopes of future generations.
As the focal point of so many people’s expectations and projections, I am constantly at war with myself as though there is an ever-present pressure to get it right, to meet my audience’s expectations, to honour the experiences that have been discounted, and to challenge the stereotypes that have been perpetuated.
I’m constantly asking myself: is the show going to be as good, are audiences going to return, and if they don’t will we ever be invited back to the West End? The anxiety can feel overwhelming at times, like a heavy weight threatening to crush me under its magnitude.
Yet, with each performance of For Black Boys, I am reminded of the profound impact that art can have on society. Witnessing the faces in the audience, the tears in their eyes, and the emotions stirring within them reaffirms my purpose for staging this production, again and again. It’s not just about putting on a show; it’s about creating a sacred space for healing, connection, and empowerment.
As I reflect on the journey that has brought me to this moment, I am filled with a profound sense of gratitude — for the collaborators who have breathed life into this vision, for the audiences who have embraced it with open hearts and minds, and for the trailblazers like Ntozake Shange who paved the way for stories like ours to be told.
For Black Boys is more than just a play; it’s a testament to the resilience, the beauty, and the unbreakable spirit of the black community.
