Nikiya Mathis on Returning to Theater Post-COVID as a Changed Person + Actor

The following Career Dispatch essay was written by Nikiya Mathis, who stars in Whitney White’s filmed theatrical production of “Semblance.” It’s running at New York Theatre Workshop through Aug. 29. 

For many, 2020 was the year that wouldn’t end. But for me, it’s the year I wish would come again. I suffered much trauma but recognized a bigger blessing. 

Closing out 2019, I remember admitting in a therapy session, “I want to run away.” I wanted to hop on a bus, like Jada Pinkett Smith in “Set it Off” and go. Why? Because it was hard for me to say “no,” and I was exhausted. And then I was turning down invitations to hang out so often, that my friends literally wanted to do an “intervention” to get me to slow down. 

The more I achieved, the more I felt like I didn’t “get to fail.” And if I did, it would be the end for me. Somehow, I learned that mental and physical rest was a luxury that I didn’t have the right to. Black women have a history of carrying other people’s burdens, at the expense of ourselves. 

In 2020, I gained perspective, though. It was like I did get on that bus and rode away from life as I knew it. I gained something I didn’t know I was missing: me. My anxiety lessened. I took time to sit with myself. I was never athletic, but learned to play basketball. I’ve had a fear of drowning, and in a day I learned to float and started to swim! I asked myself what brought me joy, and then started roller skating. I knew this freedom was possible before, but my head and my heart were at war. I started living. I started resting. And as one of my characters in “Semblance” says, “rest is radical.”

I wondered what it would be like returning to mostly-white institutions, no longer able to pretend to not know what I know: my truth. I’m bearing the scars of my brothers and sisters lost to domestic terrorism. I can’t forget how I’ve been overlooked often. Not considered. Also, that my Black body has been used as a token on stages, just like another of my “Semblance” characters; she works on an assembly line and realizes that people are just looking through her. She may as well not be human. 

READ: How New York Theatre Workshop Became an Indie Hit-Maker

So, entering New York Theatre Workshop, I didn’t just come as an actor ready to tell a story. I came as a woman, like so many Black women, filled with the trauma of being Black in this country, the uncertainty of COVID, but with a new hope about life. I was nervous. But still excited to be back among dope, talented artists. I remember our first day, Whitney, our director, spoke about her love for Black women, in a circle made up of Black, brown, white, trans, and cis men and women. And I did feel supported. And then, I surrendered to the belief that all these artists were there to amplify these seven women I play. It was cool. It was a different kind of project than anybody had worked on. I was so grateful to have had the experience. 

We’re done filming, but Semblance is still a journey for me. I look back and think of ways that I could’ve illuminated the women’s stories more. But then one of them taps me on the shoulder and says to give myself grace. Another taps me on the shoulder and reminds me to keep resting, as my offering to the revolution. As theater continues to reopen, I pray to stand up for all of them, as in the words of Maya Angelou: “I come as one and stand as ten thousand.”