The Assassination of My Blackness Pt.1

They said my black girl accent had to go

Riffs and runs I sang so freely

Diphthongs, twangs;

I swallowed them

And for a moment
wished I was bulimic

To regurgitate the bull shit I’d inhaled about “real acting."

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When I Stepped Into Myself

[ Read "Way to Freedom" HERE ] I had a conversation with myself last night, re-imagining a previous conversation I had with God about 2 years ago. God was like, "I'm gonna sit here with my arms wide open, while you seek refuge in people and things that were not meant to shelter you, and I'll wait patiently for you to come back home to me." That moment with God 2 years ago was the beginning of my real relationship with God and my relationship with my purpose(s). As I watched things fall into place, in awe of the matchless moves of the universe pushing me toward my purpose (or myself), I never quite committed to the purpose; I never quite committed to God. I walked around God--around my purpose, around myself--but never stepped in. Maybe this is you. This has been your life for years...going in and out of the revolving door that is God's arms. And God still loves, even when you're outside of the door. God still loves, even when your head is pressed

"Where Do You See Yourself in 5 Years?"

Today (December 1st, 2020), Facebook reminded me that 5 years ago, I wrapped up a 5-week run of Ain't Misbehavin' at Portland Center Stage in Oregon, and flew back to New York City to re-enter my life there. I had just applied to seminary a few days before Thanksgiving and was excited about the possibility of leaning into this strong calling I felt to deepen my theological knowledge. I was still under the illusion that I'd be able to maintain some sort of performance career, so I kept my manager, Greg, and he'd continue sending me out on auditions. I was becoming very picky about what I'd say "yes" to-- Would I go on that national tour of Hamilton that he wanted to send me on or would I go to seminary? Would I leave to do a 9-month stint in After Midnight on an international cruise ship or would I go to seminary? That was the question over and over again. I decided that I'd still do local stuff in NYC or short stints in other cities. Even as I ente

Exhausting Possibilities: A Sermon by Rev. Mia M. McClain

2 Kings 4:1-7 Delivered on August 15, 2021 at Myers Park Baptist Church, Charlotte, North Carolina I am a child of Grey’s Anatomy. No, not the human anatomy book by Henry Gray; the hit medical television drama. It’s safe to say that because of my obsession with the show, I am who am I, today. Between Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How to Get Away With Murder, writer and producer Shonda Rhimes was basically my 3rd parent. In Grey’s Anatomy, so many life lessons were taught and learned. I saw so much of myself in the various groundbreaking characters she made room for on primetime television, and Shonda’s theologies and ideologies are on clear display in many of the landmark scenes. One scene, in particular, has had a lasting effect on me. In the 2nd episode of season 2, a trauma patient comes in who the paramedics have been working on for almost a half hour with no improvement in his condition. The paramedic tells the Chief Resident, Dr. Miranda Bailey, that the patient is practically g

God and Wine

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