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[0:00] Pam: Hey Pam, this is a really, really special conversation today. Billy Porter is someone I have known since the very beginning of my career in theater. I knew him when I was an actor. I loved his work as an actor. And then when I went into directing, thanks to Pam, I cast him as Jesus in Jesus Christ Superstar at the Helen Hayes Performing Arts Center in Nyack, where he was sensational. I will never forget his performance and how it changed me as an artist. We've remained friends. And of course, he has gone from strength to strength over the years. And despite a bit of a roller coaster ride in the industry, he keeps coming out on top. And I have to admire the fact that he has remained true to himself, true to his roots, that he is still engaged with the community that he comes from and the community that he's a part of now.

And then he keeps challenging himself as an artist from Angels in America, to Pose to Kinky Boots. This is a formidable human being and artist. So enjoy this conversation. And I look forward to hearing what you have to say about it. So here's our conversation with Billy Porter. A little warning, there's some explicit language, but everything he says is smart and thoughtful and really worth listening to. Enjoy. The following was recorded live at the Broadway Teachers Workshop, an annual program that brings theater teachers together with the Broadway community for behind-the-scenes classes, workshops, intimate discussions, and Broadway shows in New York City and online. Learn more at www.broadwayteachinggroup.com.

[2:41] Pam: Welcome back, everybody. Oh, my goodness. Listening to that takes me back to Greece, where Billy created that insane arrangement. I want to like put on my plastic hair and come back up for you. Please don't. It was a crazy acid dream of a production of Greece, directed by the brilliant Jeff Calhoun, that we were both in at different times. And guys, please welcome Billy Porter. There would be huge applause and standing and tears right now if we were in a room, but we're not in a room. We're in a TV set. Not even a TV set. I'm on a laptop. Billy, hi. The children are coming in the room. There's 64 people in the room. 65. I see it coming up. They're gathering. They're gathering. Hi, kids. 73, 79, 80. Wow. There's a lot of people here. No, we're up to 467. Oh, that's fierce. No, we're more. No, it's going up. It's going up. Wow. Stop counting. 99. It's like Las Vegas. It's just a ticker. So, Billy, where are you? Where are we finding you?

[4:02] Billy Porter: I am quarantining, sheltering in place out on Long Island with my husband. We've been out here since March, and I have to say it has been really sans the terror. You know, it's terrible what's going on in the world right now, but it really has allowed for me to have some space and reflect and teach myself about self-care and balance and boundaries, which is not something that I'm very good at. So, I'm learning about that right now, and it's really awesome having connected time with my husband. You know, the last couple of years for me has just been like, I describe it like the image of that Indiana Jones with the boulder behind him, you know, and he's trying to outrun it. It's like, the boulder is filled with astonishing things, but if it runs over me, I still go splat.

So, you know, it's been a really interesting, creative time for me, and I haven't stopped working. Actually, you know, one of the boundary things I'm realizing is, I don't always have to get on the plane and travel. I could do some shit on Zoom from my house. I think everyone knows what that feels like now, so it's not so weird. You know what I mean? Like, we're going to be able to, I think coming out of whatever this is, I think everybody's going to find a different space in terms of how to take care of ourselves in the middle of all of this fantasticness.

[6:03] Pam: Yes, absolutely. Can we go back a little bit to Pittsburgh? So, you grew up in Pittsburgh, yes?

[6:13] Billy Porter: Yes. And what was your first creative moment? When did you first understand that you wanted to perform?

[6:19] Billy Porter: Well, I sang in church. I started singing in church when I was five. Then about the fourth grade, maybe fifth grade, I was in a talent show at school, and I sang, and the bullying stopped. So, that was the first time that I realized, oh wait, I have a talent that rivals all of these other very popular things in the landscape. There's something that I do that's special and makes people want to be nice to me, so let me figure out how to do that more. So, then sixth grade came, and it was desegregation for the second time in America. So, I was bused to a school that was about 30, 40 minutes from my house, and I really started to, and I was put in the accelerated classes. So, while they were trying to mix us up, if you think about the disparity in education in the Black schools versus the White schools, then you bring the Black students together with the White students, and then you test them when they get to the school.

Well, obviously, the White students are going to be a little bit further along, so then there's a separation inside of the school. So, it was segregated inside of the school, but for whatever reason, I passed the class, I passed the test that put me in classes with all the White people. So, here I am, 11 years old, I'm one of maybe two, very often just one minority in a 30-person class. I didn't know what to do, but this was the year Reagan was elected. The government still cared about its people. There were lots of programs that were still in place, you know, our government likes to call them entitlement programs. I like to call them They Saved My Life programs, because there was an after-school, there were after-school programs with a booklet about this thick, with pages front and back, filled with activities that you could do in these after-school programs.

Nobody left school. Nobody left school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, or was it Tuesdays and Thursdays? One of it. There were a couple of times a week where these after-school programs went for an hour and a half after school. So, one of them, the school was called Risenstein, and it was called Risenstein Musical Theater, and I didn't know what theater was, but I knew musical meant maybe I could sing, and I was already playing the saxophone in the band, and so I went, and Betsy Schmidt told us what a musical was. We were going to come back the following week and audition with a song, sing a song in front of everybody, any song you want, and then the show would be cast, every role would be double-cast, so that everybody would get something to do.

There were literally hundreds of people, hundreds of people. So, interestingly enough, and this is a story that a lot of people don't know, interestingly enough, it was my birthday. It was September 21st, and my grandmother came with my great-aunt to surprise me. They took me downtown Pittsburgh, we went to dinner, and then we went to Heinz Hall, and the curtain opened, and it's The Wings. Oh, wow. Starring Lillias White. Oh, wow. She was Dorothy? Yeah. Okay, this was, you were in sixth grade, yeah. Jasmine Guy was in the chorus. Oh, my. Adrian Bailey was in the chorus. I go back to the program years later, I'm like, oh, my God. So, I'm like, oh, shit, this is a musical, this is a musical. Oh, my God, I want to sing home.

Like, I was like apoplectic at this show, you know, and so I go to school the next day, and I tell the music teacher, Rhoda Arnold, she did the, she was the vocal music teacher, and then there was an instrumental music teacher, and I was doing both. And I said, I saw this thing called The Wiz, and I want to sing a song for my audition next week, but I don't know how to get the music. I don't know how to, like, two days later, she had purchased, and this is for all you teachers out there, by the way, because the teachers in my life saved my life, saved my life. So, this teacher went out and bought me the album, for those of you who are too young to know what that was, and the sheet music. And I came back the next week, I learned home from The Wiz, I sang home, the cast list went up, everybody was double cast, the show was babes in arms, and it said Gus Fielding, Billy Porter, period.

And I was like, wait, I don't have to share this part with anybody? I get to do all four performances? And it was like, but that was a, that was a ding, ding, ding, oh, shit. Like, somebody thinks I'm good at something, good enough to break the rules, good enough to break their own rules, and make me the sole owner of this role. Like, you know, it was, it was, it was major, and I had angels like that. You know, then that same music teacher, you know, I had an instrumental music teacher, so I played the saxophone, and I was in the band, and Mr. Lutz was my instrumental teacher, I'm still friends with him to this day, I'm still friends with him and his family, his children, you know, he comes to see me and everything I do, everything I do, every time I go back to Pittsburgh, I visit him and his family.

Like, he's, he, he and his family came to New Jersey to visit my mother in the Actors Fund Nursing Home. Like, that's, that's what teachers are for me. So this music teacher knew that there was this program called All City Junior Choir. And it was a choir that rehearsed on Saturday mornings from 9 to 11:30. So I get into this choir, Birdie Nichols, Black woman, stern, strong, I always loved them. She didn't take no shit. I loved her. I was in the soprano section. I sat in the soprano section, sang in the soprano section, the spring concert.

[14:33] Billy Porter: Came around, she said, anybody who wants to sing a solo at the spring concert, stay after and sing a song for me. Or they said, bring a song next week and we'll do it. So I bring home my audition song. I sing "Home." She's like, that's what you're singing in the spring concert. And then she said to me, in the seventh grade, so that was sixth grade, in the seventh grade, she said, okay, so there's this program, entitlement programs. I get really angry about this. There's a program that happens every Saturday from 12 to five called the Center for Musically Talented. It happens at the Creative and Performing Arts High School in Homewood, Breston, which is the hood, right? Dr. Harry Clark started a Creative and Performing Arts High School in 1979.

So we were just two, three years into the high school. And it was only a half day high school. But on Saturdays, they had Center for Musically Talented, where I got private voice lesson, private saxophone lesson, opera workshop, choir class, sight singing, soul fetch, like everything. Every Saturday, it was for high school kids. They let me in, in the seventh grade. My Saturdays started at seven o'clock in the morning, waking up in my house, getting on public transportation, going to all city junior choir rehearsal from nine to 11:30, getting on a bus, going to the other side of town to get to the Center for Musically Talented, where I studied from 12 to five every week that school was in session.

We can't make it without teachers. We can't make it without those people who care. I'm from the hood. I'm from the church. There was nobody in my sphere, nobody who could understand or tell me what to do or where to go, or how to dream beyond my circumstance. My circumstance on paper said, I'm going to be a statistic. I'm going to be a drug addict. I'm going to be in jail, or I'm going to be dead. That's what the statistics say. Still to this day, for a person who looks like me and who comes from where I come from, and it was those people, I call them my angels. I'm writing my memoir right now. I call them my angels who stepped in at every moment. Then I go to an audition. I know you ain't asking me no question, but we're talking about—

[18:02] Gordon: No, keep going.

[18:03] Billy Porter: We're talking about teachers, so I'm going to tell you about these teachers. Then I do this whole program. I get to the eighth grade. It's time for me to go to high school. I want to go to the Creative and Performing Arts High School. My mother says, no, you're going to go into computers. Now, for a woman who's from the hood, who has a high school education, that was a really smart idea. Let me just say that. She was right, but she was wrong. She was right, but she was wrong because she didn't know she had you. She didn't know, but she was right. Let me just say that. She said to me, you're going into computers. I snuck because it was a Saturday. I was going to my other stuff. I didn't tell her that Centers for Musically Talented was canceled that week because they were having auditions for the high school.

I went to the same high school that I had been going to for two years on Saturday to audition for that high school. I auditioned. I got in on the spot and I said, my mom is not going to let me come. Dr. Harry Clark, the founder of the school and the principal of the school, stood up and said, what did you say, son? I said, my mom's not going to let me come. He said, what's your mom's name and number? Come with me. He took me to his office, called my mother on the phone, and she was over at the school in 20 minutes. He sat her down and he said, listen, I hear that you don't want your son to come here. I know that you're mad that he came to this audition and disobeyed you. Here's what I'm going to say to you.

Your child's talent is astounding. He has a focus. He wants to be in school. The very thing that you're trying to shield him from, which is the drugs, which is the gangs, which is all of that, will surely happen if you take this away from him. All of those things that you think you're protecting him from will surely happen if you don't let him do this. That's how talented he is. That's how dedicated he is at 13 years old. Please know it's four years. It's four years of knowing that your child will be in school, in school that he likes, in school that he will thrive in. I had to go to another school for half a day for my academics. And the deal was, if you keep up your academics, you can do anything you want.

So who had a 3.75 average through school? That was the motivation, right? So I get to that school. I'm in the music program. I'm a voice major. Ain't nobody doing no musical. Where are the musicals? I'm just singing in concerts. I'm singing "Carmio Band," whatever the Italian song with the yellow book and the green. I'm like, yeah, yeah, yeah. But where's the musical? I came here to be in musicals. They ain't doing no musical. No musical freshman year. This is when I started realizing the separation. "24 Italian Hits." Yes. I saw somebody just write it down. So that first year there was no musical in the school. There was no school musical. But everything was also separate. So the music department was the music department.

The drama department was the drama department. The art department was the art department. And the dance department was the dance department. And they were all separate, and I hated it. And I was like, I don't understand what's happening here. Like, I want to be in a musical. Second day of school, sophomore year. What's that woman's name? I'll figure it out. The head of the, I've been working all day. The head of the drama department comes up to me and says, I hear you want to be in a musical. And I said, yeah. And she said, well, here's what I think you should do. I said, what do you think I should do? She said, well, I heard you sing last year in the concert. And I think you should be in musicals.

But I want to offer you the role of Mr. Webb in "Our Town." We're doing "Our Town." The drama department is doing "Our Town." So here's what I want. And here's what I propose. You come to the drama department for a semester. You play Mr. Webb for me in "Our Town." I'm like, what is "Our Town"? Peggy Hughes is her name. It's her name. Brash, you know, blonde, white woman, sassy, you know, creative, you know, like those people. Somebody knew that. Someone wrote that on the chat. Somebody wrote what? Peggy Hughes. Peggy Hughes, yeah. So Peggy Hughes, I said, okay. So I left the music department, crossed over, played Mr. Webb in "Our Town." So I was on stage. I wasn't singing, but I was on stage.

And I ended up staying in the drama department. And they had a musical theater arm. And junior year, Lenora Nimitz came back to Pittsburgh. And for those of you who don't know Lenora Nimitz, she's a Pittsburgh girl, went to Broadway, done good. She was one of the first covers, standbys for Gwen Verdon and Chita Rivera in the first iteration of "Chicago." So she had come back to Pittsburgh for whatever reason. And she was a guest, I guess, guest teacher or guest, you know, whatever you call it. Bob is gonna love you. Bob is gonna love you. And she would pull me into rooms. And she would teach me the choreography alone, because there were only like six or seven students. And the school was very small.

So there were only six or seven musical theater students. And, you know, she wanted to get me ready for Bob. So senior year of high school, they caught wind, Peggy and Lenora caught wind, that I was going to New York. I was moving to New York after graduation from high school, and I was going to be a Broadway star. That's the plan. Isn't that what you do? Literally pulled me back here into the office. And Peggy was like, you're not going to New York. You're going to Carnegie Mellon in the drama department. You can sing your ass off. You're the best singer I've ever heard. Your dancing is really, really great. You know, Lenora, your dancing is amazing. Every time you open up your mouth, it's a disaster.

And I'm like, you need to learn how to act. I was like, okay, great. But I'm not going to Carnegie Mellon. I'm not staying at Pittsburgh. If I'm going to college, I, first of all, I can't afford college. And she's like, you can afford college. There are loans, and there are grants, and there are scholarships. Also shit that doesn't exist anymore, by the way. Loans, you know, all that stuff. So that won't be a problem. I will pay for your, you know, she said, I will pay for your fees, your application fees. And we will get your monologues and your songs together for your audition. Because she was a moonlighting voice and speech teacher at Carnegie Mellon. Oh, wow. Here's what I'm saying, though.

It's about access. It's about opportunity. It's about knowledge. I lived a 12-minute drive from Carnegie Mellon University for my entire life and had no idea that it was one of the best drama schools in the world.

[27:34] Gordon: And now you're a spokesperson for Carnegie Mellon.

[27:38] Billy Porter: I mean, like, how did I not know that? Like, this is the shit I'm talking about. This is what we mean when we say it's not equal. It's not a level playing field. How the fuck am I doing all of this living in Pittsburgh? And the first time I hear about Carnegie Mellon, it's from a white woman. I mean, I guess that's how it happens. You know, but like, had she not said something, I would have moved to New York City. Had she and Lenore not said something, I would have moved to New York City unprepared and tanked. It was because of teachers, the angels in my life who saw me before I could even see myself and said, no, bitch, you're going over here. You're going over here. Just listen. Just shut up and listen.

And I knew enough to actually shut up and listen. I mean, you have to also, you know, I will say the student also has to be open and listen. You have to listen. I was like, well, these people know more than me. So if she said something, I would have moved to New York City unprepared. And I would have moved to New York City tanked. And I would have moved to New.

[29:07] Billy Porter: I should go to Carnegie Mellon then. I guess I should. You know, I'll try it. And I ended up going to the audition. I had my little stuff prepared. It was a weekend. And so they would have the auditions on Saturdays and Sundays. So I went on a Saturday early. They put you through a ballet class. Then you went to a room and you sang for a vocal teacher. And then you went to an acting room and you did your monologues for an acting teacher. And as I was putting my stuff together to leave, this older gentleman comes over to me and says, can I speak to you for a minute? And I said, yeah, sure. He takes me into the instrumental room, the orchestra room that's filled with like, timpanis and cellos and basses and, you know, horns and, you know, he's like, so I was just, we were just wondering, you know, are you auditioning for any other schools?

And at this point, I was auditioning for everything. I was, you know, because I was really trying to not stay in Pittsburgh. I was auditioning for everything. So I was like, yeah. And he said, well, what other schools? And I told him what the schools were. And he said, well, you know, what would it take to get you to come to Carnegie Mellon? And I was like, well, am I accepted? And he was like, yes, but you can't say anything about that. But yes, that's between you and me. How can we get you to come here? I said, baby, whoever gives me the most money is where I'm going. Because I don't have shit. And he was like, got you. Let me figure out a package for you. Let me, let us figure out, let us put together, what do they call it, a financial aid package for you.

And we'll have that to you by next week. And I said, great. And he said, and what are you doing for the rest of the day and tomorrow? And I said, nothing. And he's like, you want to make a little money? And I said, yeah, sure. He's like, we need some help running these auditions. That's so random. I ended up running the auditions where Tammy Tappan showed up. Y'all don't know who Tammy Tappan is, but Gordon Greenberg knows who Tammy Tappan is. Tammy Tappan shows up. And I had been in this thing with her. What's that thing where they give you the, from the different schools and you- Like thespians? Yeah. It's like you win prizes, you win scholarship money and people from all over the country.

And you used to go to Florida for like a week and they would do workshops and stuff. And I had met her there and she sang home. And she was a white girl who sang home. And then you were like, I'm up next. Well, and motherfuckers had me singing Maria when I should have been singing home. They had me singing Maria. This is before I knew what I should be doing on my own. YoungArts, yes. YoungArts, but it was called something else at the time. So it was YoungArts. So she came to the audition without music because she was auditioning for the acting program because you know how they like to do us. You know how they like to do us musical theater people. Musical theater people can't act. Well, that's what I was trying to tell her.

I was like, no, you know, because I had all the information now because my teacher told me. You were the monitor. It's the acting program first. And then all the musical theater stuff is added on top of that, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. And she was like, well, I didn't bring any music. I said, what you need girl? She said, well, I can sing. I can sing something from Evita. I got in my car, went to drove to my house, got the music for Evita, brought it back to her. I said, no, you're auditioning for musical theater. You need to be in the musical theater program. I don't know why you didn't bring your music. Always be prepared. Stay ready. Then you don't have to get ready. Here I am 17 years old, literally like, bitch, why didn't you bring your music?

Go get her music. She gets in. We're in the same class. I'm off topic, but I just had to say that. Why don't they just make you the president of Carnegie Mellon? Extra time. I just spoke for 20 minutes and you asked me one question. What's next? This is the perfect interview. I love it. It's the end of the day. I love hearing you talk. We only have 15 minutes left, so I want to open it up to questions from the gang. So let's see. Peter Abando says, you're both a performing artist and a vocal artist. What should we be doing as performing arts educators to tackle systemic prejudice and racism in our communities and institutions? The first thing that I think needs to happen is that all teachers must embrace and begin to understand all cultures.

Everybody isn't the same. One of the things that was not so great for us at Carnegie Mellon, for us Black kids and for us gay kids, is that there was no template as to how to move beyond the status quo. The status quo being white, generally European, with no room for cultural interpretation. I remember doing a Shakespeare play once I had graduated. I was doing Merchant of Venice and I was playing one of them Solano, Solario people. I don't remember which one. But, you know, there was a 400-year-old joke that wasn't landing. You know, there was a 400-year-old joke that wasn't landing. And I fought with the director because I wasn't, it wasn't scanning. I wasn't doing the scansion properly. And I related myself to the material so that I could land the fucking joke.

Who cares about the scansion at this point? What am I saying? This joke is 300 years old. It's not landing. And I'm the one with egg on my face. You don't have egg on your face. I'm the one with the egg on my face. So, yeah, I went to my blackness and I pulled out something that got you your fucking laugh. And you're attacking me. It's like, embrace where people come from. Embrace the totality of what everybody brings into the room. You might learn something. You might hear something different when it comes out of my mouth than you will when it comes out of somebody else's mouth. And it's not all the same. It's not standard. You know, there was, when I was going to school, there was a standard, you know.

They beat it out of me. They beat my accent out of me. They beat my dialect out of me. So much so to the point where I didn't have anything left. I'm not saying I'm not saying that you don't teach standard American speech. Yes. But you don't teach it as a replacement for who you are. You teach it as an expansion to what you already have. Use who the people are and expand from that as opposed to trying to change people or replace something. Does that make sense? It makes sense to me. And I think a lot of the questions that are popping up are all revolving around the same ideas, which is how can teachers help kids to feel included, queer kids, kids of color, kids who don't look like or feel like or act like everybody else?

The other sort of branch of that is what would be your advice to ensure that young people are able to work in the most inclusive environment and able to present their truest selves to the class with confidence? Well, it comes from the top down. And anybody who's in America now knows what that feels like. Comes from the top down. You're the teacher. You make the room inclusive. You're the one. The teachers are the ones who create the safe space. You know, we're the ones. You know, when I direct, you're the same way, Gordon. You know, when you direct, you create a space in a room that is open, engaging, inspiring, encouraging. Create the space that you want. I should say just a public thank you to Billy because he's really the reason I have a directing career.

He was in the first show I directed. And thanks to his agent and now manager, Bill Butler. I got John Vizzetti as my first agent from Gersh. But it was a production of Jesus Christ Superstar where Billy played Jesus opposite Emily Skinner and Drew Sarich, who now lives in Vienna. But the whole thing was set in apartheid era South Africa and all new arrangements by Stephen Oremus and Billy, basically. And that's when I was thinking, you know, that was before the acid reflux. You were still in the soprano section. Yeah, that's back when I was still in the soprano section, singing. I see that sometimes. And I miss my old voice. Oh, but your voice now is so- My new voice is, you know, I've leaned into it.

I'm cool with it. Oh, but my old voice could do anything. Baby, I'm glad there's proof. I'm glad there's recording. It was gorgeous, but it's still gorgeous. That's all I have to say. We're going to welcome one or two people on screen to ask you a question live. That's okay. Yeah, please. Jared. It looks like Jared Guillory. Is that you, Jared? I'm promoting you to a panelist. They're going to pop up in a second. And when you see your face, Jared, or when you see that you're coming up, press unmute and start video. Honey, we getting it down these days with the Zoom. They're not going to be able to get me out the house. It all has to do with like where it's raining, because there was like a thunderstorm here and everything slowed down.

Sorry. Oh, here's Jared. Jared, you had to go through a lot. Turn on your video. What is going on? Sorry, girl. Hold on. It's on the lower left. I know you know better than that. I'm a little under the weather, so showing in bed at the moment. But as an LGBTQ person, how important was the role of Pray Tell to you? And how important do you think it is to the rest of the LGBT community, especially as a person of color? Well, I will say this, representation is everything, right? Right. I really didn't have much. You know, growing up in the 80s, I didn't have much representation. And the representation that did exist was white. Right. So the first time I ever saw an image of myself was when I was in Greece, prancing around like a little Richard Automaton on crack.

And I have a very interesting, complicated relationship with that time, right? Because while it exposed me to a larger audience, it also pigeonholed me to such an effect that it took me 20 years to come out of that. Yeah. That's a whole different story. With that said, I went around the corner to see Angels in America by myself. And I saw Jeffrey Wright and the character of Belize and I sat in that theater for 20 minutes after it emptied, weeping. Yeah. Going, everybody thinks I'm a clown. Nobody will ever see me like that. That is who I am. I'm a whole person. I'm a whole human being.

[43:40] Billy Porter: How do I make that happen? Like, it was like, and that's sort of what started the journey of planting the seeds of the fruits that you're seeing in my life right now. You know, because I saw that there was a space, there was an opening, there was a void that needed to be filled. I knew in my heart and my soul that everybody telling me that my queerness was my liability, from my family, to my church, to my teachers at Carnegie Mellon, to the business, to everything and everybody. You're a faggot, you need to butch up, you need to fix it. That's the only messaging that I ever heard. I made the choice to say, fuck that. The only thing I can be is myself. And if that means I am nothing, if that means that nothing happens for me, at least I have me.

You know, and it was a combination of that. It was a combination of my first record deal, my R&B record deal imploding in on itself. And I thought, wow, I have failed as somebody else. I was doing what other people told me to do, and it's a failure. I didn't even do what I wanted to do. This album, as great as it is, is not a representation of me. It's me trying to be masculine enough to eat. It's easy to be who you are when what you are is what's popular. I say that all the time. It was not popular. One of the last jobs I had for a decade was the one that Gordon Greenberg gave me, which was Jesus in Jesus Christ Superstar. Nobody was casting me in anything unless I came in to stop their show and scream like a banshee and then go back to your dressing room and shut the fuck up.

Yeah, we don't want your story. We don't want to hear about you. We don't want to hear about you. So I made the decision to choose myself and to fill the void if that was ever possible. I never dreamed that it would look like... I never dreamed that it would look like Pray Tell. Yeah. I never dreamed that it could. We had no context to dream like that. I say it all the time. It's like the show, Ryan Murphy, Stephen Canals, this moment in space and time in general in the world has taught me to dream the impossible. And if there's one thing that I can say to you teachers, teach your children to dream the impossible, to dream what they do not see in front of them. Dream beyond what you see. It can happen. I am living proof of that. I am living proof of dreaming beyond my circumstance, dreaming the impossible. And the dreams get bigger and bigger every single day. Don't stop dreaming.

[48:05] Host: Billy, this has been amazing. And it's gone like this. I wish we could have one more question. We could spend another three hours, but we got to get one last question. Yep. You want? Oh, all right. Let's take one more. So this last one is Amisha Gross. I think you will be zapped onto the screen. Let's see. Amisha. So once you appear, unmute yourself, start your video. There she is. Hi, Amisha.

[48:39] Amisha Gross: Hi, it's Amisha. Amisha. It's all good. That's all right. First of all, it's a pleasure and honor to meet you and hear your story. I am a teacher, but I'm also a director and I also have a daughter who is very passionate about the arts. So my question is simply, she's 20 years old. And all of the things that you're saying about the lack of opportunities and access and programming, I mean, that happened when we were coming up and going to college. How or what kind of advice would you give her about trying to get in a place where she is able to be who she is? She's very good at bringing herself to the table. But how does she get a seat at the table now? And I think that that's the biggest hurdle. You're talking about finance, Kimberly, you're talking about all of that.

[49:42] Billy Porter: George C. Wolfe, one of my mentors said to me, when I was in my valley and in the lowest part that I had ever been sleeping on people's sofas, driving my car from New York to Pittsburgh for six hours when I didn't have a place to stay so I could go home and stay with my friends until I could find another place. It was bankruptcy, the whole thing. He said, do you want to be an artist or do you want to be a star? Those things are two separate things. That's the first thing. Define what your artistry means to you, right, as an artist. And then never wait for anybody to give you permission to practice it. Be practicing your art, whatever it is, all the time. You will have to do odd jobs. You will have to engage in things that you don't want to engage in.

But as long as you're always finding space for your art, you will always be ready in the moment that you're supposed to be. I'll share this Angels in America story with you because it connects two. I saw that Angels in America. It changed my life. It set me on this trajectory. I jumped off the ledge. I spent a decade in the abyss, a decade. I spent a decade in the abyss, a decade. What it did for me, though, was made me look inward, look at myself and go, what am I waiting for? Why am I giving all of my power away? So I went to UCLA and started writing. And I started directing. And I started finding all of these other spaces where I can vibrate creatively because I'm a creative person. I'm an artist.

It doesn't matter if I'm on the stage or not. It doesn't matter if I'm in the spotlight or not. That's ego. What matters is my art. What matters is that I'm practicing this thing that saved my life, that gives me so much joy. Let me just keep doing that. Right? I was watching Oprah 20 years ago, and she had Ayana Bandsant and Maya Angelou on, and they were talking about service. And they said, when you shift your focus to service, everything else will work itself out. I thought, how can I be of service in a world and in an industry that's inherently narcissistic and hit me like a ton of bricks? It's your queerness. It's the very thing that everybody's telling you not to be. That is your service.

Right? So I'm in the Valley. I'm doing my work. 2010, I haven't been in New York City doing theater for 10 years. They announced the off-Broadway revival of Angels in America. Nobody wants to see me. It's still the same old bullshit. He can't act. You know, grease, 14 inches of orange rubber hair. He does that. I sat in the fullness of my truth. I said, good luck doing this without me. That's what I said to myself. That's what I knew in my spirit. I knew it. I'm at the gym. I'm going to the gym different times because I'm an artist. So I'm not at the gym at the same time. Three weeks in a row. Every time I'm at the gym, I run into Tony Kushner, the writer of Angels in America, for those of you who don't know.

And I had known him from other things. Finally, after three weeks of seeing him at random times at the gym, I'm not following him. Random times at the gym. And they have been seeing Belize's for months in New York. Finally, he says to me, what? In the locker room naked. Have you been called yet? Nope. You haven't been called for your audition yet? Nope. Okay. Went on about my business. The next day I get a call from my manager. Mad. They want to see you tomorrow. I tried to get them to push it. They want you to do three scenes. And he was mad. I said, stop. I have to stop you. There is one role in the entire canon of everything, anything that has ever existed on the planet. There's one role that looks like me.

If I don't already know it, it's my fault. You can trust and believe I know every fucking word of this play. What scenes? What scenes? Give me the scenes. If you stay ready, you don't have to get ready. I already knew it. I had all three scenes in my head from the last 20 years of working on it. I walk into the room. I know it's a courtesy audition. I opened up my mouth to speak to a room full of people who I know think I can't act. The awareness of understanding what's around you and knowing what you must do to change it. It's okay. Why would you know? Why would you know? So I'm going to show y'all. So I open up my mouth and I see them lean in. One person leans in, then another person leans in.

An hour later, an hour, there were people waiting outside to audition for this play. An hour later, there were people waiting outside to audition for this play. An hour later, Tony Kushner gets up from the table with tears streaming down his face, gives me a bear hug and says, you were the voice I heard in my head when I wrote this play. That was what all that time in the Valley was about.

[57:18] Host: And then did they ask you to stay and run the auditions?

[57:26] Billy Porter: Just keep working.

[57:29] Host: Thank you so much.

[57:30] Billy Porter: Just keep working. Yeah, absolutely.

[57:32] Host: Felicia, thank you.

[57:33] Billy Porter: Thank you so much.

[57:40] Host: You've been listening to the Broadway Teachers Podcast, recorded live at the Broadway Teachers Workshop, an annual program that brings theater teachers together with the Broadway community for behind-the-scenes classes, workshops, intimate discussions, and Broadway shows in New York City and online. Learn more at www.broadwayteachinggroup.com.