But that's not Uncle Clifford.
Exactly. Uncle Clifford is not a drag queen. This is a way of life for Uncle Clifford.
"This art is healing people's families and saving lives. Being on the receiving end of it is overwhelming in the most blessed way."
What has it meant for you to be able to bring nonbinary representation to the screen?
It's meant everything. It's meant more than I know. The beauty of this moment, of being in this pandemic, is that you don't have a premiere to go to, right? I don't have a huge ATX panel that I'm sitting on where I’m only answering a moderator's questions. Instead, I’m getting asked things by regular people and I’m beyond moved. I get messages saying, "I'm watching your show and seeing Uncle Clifford and now I'm able to understand my child more." It’s the fact that she doesn't have the academic language, even in the DM, to be specific, but she's reaching out on a human level to say, “You make me relate to my child and want to reach out to repair that relationship." That’s awesome, that this art is healing people's families and saving lives. Being on the receiving end of it is overwhelming in the most blessed way.
Despite being visibly queer, Uncle Clifford still commands respect from her peers in a space many might assume would be homophobic, which completely undermines the dominant understanding many people have about the Black community’s perception of queer people. Did you think about that when building the character?
That was part of the fabric of the character. I'm going to take you to a design moment: To shave or not to shave? Uncle Clifford having a fully-coiffed beard. Initially, the beautiful director of the play, Nataki Garrett, thought I should shave. And I said, "No. No. It doesn’t make sense for me, as the proprietor over this club in the South.” This isn’t a gay club centered around queer life. It’s literally a strip club. This is a shake joint. And to be in that space, especially in the South with all the misogyny, I knew that Uncle Clifford needed something that said, Don't try her because she accesses her full femininity as well as she accesses her full masculinity. There are times when she’s walking clearly in her male privilege, and there are times when she is accessing her feminine power. There's a whole backstory for the beard, how the chops came from a former lover who tried to disfigure her. She wears that beard in protest and in acknowledgement of who she is in this Black space.
This is not some utopian reality. Because whether it’s Mercedes' mother going against Uncle Clifford’s preferred pronouns or the mayor of Chucalissa calling Uncle Clifford out of her name, those things do exist. But immediately after, there’s always corrective language from other characters. I also think the relationship between Uncle Clifford and [her right-hand] Big L was so important to highlight because, again, a straight man being next to a queer person doesn’t make that man any less straight. I acknowledge that, as Black men, the grasp on what your identity is can be loose at times, so I understand the fragility on both ends. But it was definitely a conscious choice to show how it can work, because [even though] we have those traumatic stories of abuse, killings, and all the negative aspects that come from a misogynistic society, we also have brothers that just have never had the conversation before. Especially when you talk about Black Southern culture. They don't know “nonbinary.” They know, “Are you sweet?”
"The other day, this woman told me, ‘I’ve never found a man in a wig so sexy before. What’s going on?’ To that, I say, when it comes to sexuality — and I'm going to be specific and say Black sexuality — the mind is open."
Speaking of the way Black men grapple with their identities, I’d love to talk about the relationship between Uncle Clifford and Lil Murda, which feels revelatory. Nonbinary people are rarely on screen at all, let alone with real romantic prospects.
ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7tbTEpmWuq1%2BowbC%2B2GilopuTpHqius2apWaoXauurbjEsmSipqSav7e1xLA%3D