A few years ago, I decided to write a sitcom.
Upon hearing this, you might wonder if I have a degree in television or creative writing or the necessary experience for such an endeavor.
If you're asking the question, I'm afraid you already know the answer.
Truth is, I have what most Americans growing up in the internet age have — an outsized belief in my ability to do anything.
Despite my lack of experience or credentials, I still believe the sitcom idea is a good one. Let me run it past you.
The Plot
A cosmopolitan, accomplished black female attorney is tasked with escorting a white preschool-aged boy to meet a distant relative. The court temporarily awarded this distant relative custody of the boy after both of his white, uber-rich parents ended up in prison for life for a financial Ponzi scheme. After traveling with the boy, the attorney realizes the distant relative is unfit and decides to seek custody of the boy herself.
The comedic aspect of the show comes through the storytelling. It unfolds in flashbacks from both the black mother's and white son's perspectives as they reflect on what it means for a black woman to raise a white man and the ridiculous circumstances they find themselves in because of it. For example, each episode begins with the black mother being comically arrested for "kidnapping" her white son in some absurd way.
I got my sitcom idea from a news article I read a few years ago. A black social worker named Shannon Murphy was escorted off a plane and detained after a passenger accused her of kidnapping a white child.
In her capacity as a social worker, Murphy was tasked with accompanying a one-year-old white child on a flight from Fort Worth, Texas to San Bernardino, California. Even though she produced the child's birth certificate, a court order, and proof of her employment as a California social worker, she was not believed, and a flight attendant took the child from her arms.
I thought this setup would make a great sitcom because the absurdity of everyday racism is quite comical. It's so absurd that most people won't believe that stories like Shannon Murphy's happened unless they experience or see it. That's precisely why we need to talk about it, laugh about it, and yes, even create about it.
The Cost
More than that, though, I thought the show would be the perfect vehicle to shed light on the painful costs of those absurd situations.
Women of color exist in a world where your competence and intentions are questioned every day simply because of the color of your skin. Often, those questioning you, like the passenger on the plane with Shannon Murphy, have no authority to do so, but because of our system, these folks still threaten our safety.
A Revoluntionary Act
I'm sharing this story with you now, not because I am a successful sitcom writer, but because the very act of doing something creative and telling the world about it is revolutionary, too.
So often, I talk with clients and friends about their brilliant ideas, but those ideas never see the light of day. We are conditioned to believe we must be perfect and only then are we worthy to shine our light.
The notion that we must meet some unattainable standard before we can act is a form of internalized oppression that's ingrained so deep within us that it often goes unnoticed.
However, deciding to be visible, to create, to speak up, and to share your stories imperfectly is where true transformation happens. It's also how we feel most connected and in tune with those around us.
That's what I want for you. To believe your ideas, dreams, and goals are worth sharing even if you haven't achieved them or you aren't perfectly making steps toward your goal.
Perfection doesn't lead to progression. Acting imperfectly does.
Do you have an idea for a creative project, business or career that you've been waiting to share until it's perfect? I'd love for you to share it with me , flaws and all, in the comments or by replying back to this email.
And do you want to be part of a community of folks showing up imperfectly too? Then, I invite you to become a founding member of the Woke Up Worthy Community.
I’m launching the Woke Up Worthy community early August 2024 with a subscription rate of $29/month. But I'm offering a 20% discount on a yearly subscription for those who join now as founding members. This pre-launch sale is your invitation to be at the forefront of something special—a community based on connection, vulnerability and imperfection.
Click below to secure your subscription at a discounted rate.
In power and solidarity,
Toya