Today Sun Mon
It is forcast to be Mostly Cloudy at 11:00 PM EDT on May 26, 2012
Mostly Cloudy
27°/17°		 It is forcast to be Chance of Rain at 11:00 PM EDT on May 27, 2012
Chance of Rain
26°/20°		 It is forcast to be Chance of a Thunderstorm at 11:00 PM EDT on May 28, 2012
Chance of a Thunderstorm
32°/20°

19 Comments

news

Oprahphilia, by trey anthony

By trey anthony (Guest Contributor)

18Sep09_oprahlarge.jpg
Illustration by Sasha Plotnikova/Torontoist.


A veteran of the Toronto theatre scene, playwright and producer trey anthony is best known for turning her one-woman play ‘Da Kink in my Hair into an international success story, selling out the Princess of Wales Theatre in Toronto, as well as shows in London (U.K.) and San Diego. She has earned four Doras and four NAACP awards and created a national television series based on the play. Trey is currently producing her brother’s debut play, Secrets of a Black Boy, which opens September 23.
Since she was a child, trey has idolized Oprah Winfrey, whom she credits for much of her success, but the two had never met. Winfrey was in town this week promoting Precious, a film she executive-produced with Tyler Perry, and trey was determined to connect. She recounts the experience for Torontoist.

I had priority seating for the screening of Precious, and before I got there, one of my industry friends called me and said, “I have to let you know that there’s a private reception with Oprah before the film, and you need to get into that. But I don’t know how to get you in.”
The screening started at 9:30, but I got there at 8 and locked eyes with some guy wearing a headset. His face lit up, and it turned out that he recognized me from ‘Da Kink In My Hair—so I thought it was my chance. This is me being proactive: it may have involved a little bit of lying. I said to him, “I hear there’s a VIP reception happening, and I need to be at it.” So, it wasn’t really a lie, because I did need to be there. Technically.


“Oh, you’re looking for the VIP reception!” he says, assuming that I had been invited. “You have to come with me, and I’ll bring you to the green room.”
My mother always taught me to act like I was supposed to be somewhere, even if everybody knows you aren’t. I walked into the green room and spotted the co-director of TIFF, whom I know, and he looked very stunned to see me. He walked over to me and kissed me on both cheeks, clearly surprised.
I knew my ass wasn’t supposed to be there, so I tried to redirect his attention. I said, “Hey, how’s your family? How’s your sister? I’m so proud of you! What a wonderful program this year!” He was responding, but I could see the wheels turning in his mind, and he didn’t have the heart to ask me to my face how the hell I got in there.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Oprah’s hairdresser, André Walker, and her makeup artist, Reggie Wells. They waved me over, saying, “Hey, we didn’t know there’d be more black folks up in here,” and ended up being very friendly and incredibly personable.
When Reggie asked what I did, I told him that I was one of the first African-Canadian women to have her own prime-time show on a national network here in Canada. He was very excited for me and encouraging, but as I was having this conversation, I could sense a rumbling happening off in the corner. I looked over and could see the co-director talking to two women on headsets, and it was clear my time in Oprah’s atmosphere was coming to an end.
The two women walked over. “Um, do you have verification to be here? This is a private event, and you need an invite to be here.”
I pretended to be quite stunned and made this whole big show of looking frantically through my bag for the so-called invite that I knew I didn’t have. Since I knew I would find no ticket, I became bold and acted like I was being wronged.
“I’m trey anthony, and I have my own TV show, and if there is a VIP event for the entertainment industry, I feel like I should be here!” It was all for show, but I did have a point: like Andrea Case, Karlene Nation, and Jean Carter, I’ve accomplished a lot as a Black woman in the Canadian entertainment industry. Here is a reception for a Black entertainment icon, and none of us in the industry were invited to represent our local Black entertainment scene. Aside from Oprah’s hairdresser and makeup artist (and the co-director of TIFF), I was the only person of colour in the room. And I wasn’t supposed to be there.
I pointed at the co-director. “Ask him! He knows me!”
And they said, “Yes, well, he’s the one who said that we need to get verification from you.” So, I smiled meekly, knowing the game was up, and was escorted out in deep shame.
Back to my seat. Kicked out. But when Oprah finally came out to introduce the film, I was in my glory. My idol of twenty years was right there. With three hundred people between us. I’ve come this far and she’s sitting right there, and I can’t meet her. So I let it go, thinking that there was a bigger purpose in store. God wanted it to happen another way and at another time.
As I was watching the movie, I realized that I needed to go to the bathroom. My partner Lori told me that the film would be over in twenty minutes, and that I should hold it. There was a thing in my head, however, that said, “Go. To. The. Washroom.” I left, and there were restroom signs pointing both upstairs and downstairs. I went up.
Because I wanted to look really great that night, I had on two pairs of Spanx and a full-body girdle. I thought that if I had the chance to meet Oprah, I needed everything to look on-point. To go to the bathroom was a big deal while wearing all that, so it took me quite a bit of time, and while I was wrestling with my undergarments, I thought to myself how funny it would be if I met Oprah Winfrey in a bathroom while trying to do up my Spanx.
As I left the washroom, coming up the stairs was Oprah Winfrey, shoes in her hand, and followed by her bodyguard.
It was me, Oprah, and the bodyguard alone in this small little space. Oh my God, trey, pull yourself together.

17Sep09_treyanthony_OprahTP.jpg
Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry arrive at Roy Thomson Hall. Photo by mrvmedia.


I turned to her, and I don’t know where it came from, but I declared, “Ms. Winfrey, my name is trey anthony, and I am one of the first African-Canadian women in Canada to have a prime-time TV show on a national network. I want you to know that I used to rush home every day to watch you, and I feel that if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have a TV show, because you made me believe that it was possible for a woman who looked like me to be on TV. You are my mentor and such an inspiration from afar.”
She shook my hand and said, “Thank you. Good for you. Good luck.” And then she headed into the washroom.
I watched her go and tried to figure out what I was going to do next. I had to do something important.
“Ms. Winfrey!” I called again to her as she returned, taking out a DVD I had in my purse. Preparation; you have to be prepared for any opportunity. I may never have this chance again in my life, and I need to be bold. I want Oprah to see the documentary on ‘Da Kink, and I want her to know what I’ve done. I asked if she would accept the DVD.
“Yes! Thanks, trey.”
As this was happening, my best friend Rachel happened to come up the stairs and witnessed my Oprah moment, and as soon as it had begun, it was over.
Oprah took my DVD and brought it back to her seat. The only thing that was running through my mind is that my two-decade-long dream had finally become reality. This meeting was something that I had affirmed to myself for so long.
As Oprah descended the stairs, Rachael ran to me and we fell apart, trembling and shaking.
I believe in treating people with respect and living in a truthful, positive, and honest way because I feel like the universe rewards those who do so. This, I believe, is how this meeting happened.
Twenty years. Twenty years, Oprah, and it finally happened.

Filed under: , , , , , ,

Report error Send a tip

Comments

  • http://undefined @StellasKid

    Major fail! How could someone of your stature not have been invited to this? You’d think they’d invite a few people of color with your credentials to something like this to at least attempt a put on a front for Oprah that the media & entertainment here isn’t a total whitewash like it really is. I hope against hope that the unnamed TIFF co-director who dry-snitched on you isn’t the one I’m thinking it is. I’m glad the story had a happy ending for you after all was said and done though! Good luck with the Oprah connect!

  • http://www.bitpicture.com Marc Lostracco

    There’s an irony in how the more successful the Canadian entertainment industry gets outside of Canada, the more exclusive the guests lists get toward our own domestic talent. The MMVAs are a good example—it used to be an event where music industry people had no problem getting tickets to, but now it’s locked down tight unless you’re a celebrity or a big advertiser. The fact that Canadian filmmakers and producers can’t get VIP accreditation to many of the premiere TIFF events is just embarrassing. The fact that there wasn’t one person of colour at the VIP event for a landmark Black film is remarkably conspicuous.

  • http://undefined Vincent Clement

    I told him that I was one of the first African-Canadian women to have her own prime-time show on a national network here in Canada.
    What part of Africa are your parents from?

  • http://undefined Lands Down

    Agreed. Also, did Cameron Bailey really bait you out like that? Ice Cold Cameron.

  • http://undefined jen_in_toronto

    I’m appalled by that. You think he would have recognized the lack of colour in the room. And this is a very accomplished artist, not a nobody who snuck in.

  • http://undefined torontothegreat

    lol
    I hate when people pretend like being black is like having a disability, especially in Canada. “Wow, look how much I’ve accomplished as an African-Canadian” :P
    Is Oprah your hero cause she’s black or cause she’s an extremely accomplished PERSON? Why is your colour your only point of connection with her?
    I’m Somali. Calling myself African Canadian seems really dishonest and disconnected to me. We come from 6% of the Earth’s total surface area and 20.4% of the total land area, 2nd largest and 2nd most populated continent on the planet. Africa is a HUGE cultural hub with major differences in people and habits. Where I’m from, you can literally travel 30km and be in an entirely different world. Generalizing as “African” is something I would only expect from people completely unfamiliar with Africa. When you live there, nobody says: “I’m African”. It would be like saying “I’m North American”. The other funny cultural difference between North American black people and Africans is that where I’m from, if you pulled that ‘brotha/sista’ crap you’d find yourself in a body bag pretty quickly.

  • http://undefined torontothegreat

    wow! Do you really see in colour that way?
    equal rights for everyone EH?

  • Karen Whaley

    Ice Cold Cameron indeed! What a jerk!

  • http://meghantelpnerblog.com Meghan (Making Love In The Kitchen)

    The universe never fails yo deliver, we just usually get in the way of receiving. Great story!

  • http://undefined Svend

    Didn’t you read the story, God intended it to be a white-only reception – he had a bigger picture in store for Trey.
    :rolls eyes:

  • Alison Isaac

    Torontothegreat: I think Marc’s comment speaks pretty well to why trey was on the “first African-Canadian to…” tip.
    As a friend of mine said during a convo about the “African” label: “I heard people in Africa calling themselves African all the time. It’s like saying people in Jamaica can’t/don’t call themselves ‘Caribbean’. You identify that way when it makes sense. If I’m in Somalia and someone says ‘I’m African’ that doesn’t make sense, however in another context, like Canada, saying I’m African would make sense (again, depending on the context).”
    I feel like these comments about how Black people in Canada shouldn’t call themselves “African-Canadian” (like Vincent’s “question” about what part of Africa trey’s fam is from) doesn’t consider the complicated history we (Black folk who weren’t born in Africa) have. trey’s would be particularly convoluted, considering her fam is Jamaican, she was born in England (I believe)but has been living in Canada for a long time. Someone who is Somali can say, confidently, that they are Somali, regardless of where they were born or raised. But, as we know, not all of us can trace our ethnic origins as easily.

  • http://undefined torontothegreat

    As a friend of mine said during a convo about the “African” label: “I heard people in Africa calling themselves African all the time.”

    If I’m in Somalia and someone says ‘I’m African’ that doesn’t make sense, however in another context, like Canada, saying I’m African would make sense

    A tad contradictory. I also can’t agree that Jamaicans and Trinis and Guyanese call themselves Caribbean. I have many many friends from these parts and they all identify with specifics. Remembering, there is a TON of animosity amongst us in this area of the world (as does exist in Africa), I think that’s where it’s rooted.
    If your friend is African (not african american/canadian) then I do not see how this is possible. However, if your friend is non-african (including african american/canadian) then I feel my (prior and following) comment still stands, because it may have been the assumption from the person identifying themselves this way towards your friend:

    Generalizing as “African” is something I would only expect from people completely unfamiliar with Africa.

    Now this…

    I feel like these comments about how Black people in Canada shouldn’t call themselves “African-Canadian” … doesn’t consider the complicated history we … have.

    … Is exactly why it feels dishonest and disconnected to me. If someone asks you where are you from, you probably wouldn’t say “Africa”, unless you were actually able to identify where in Africa you are from. It’s pretty broad strokes. An adopted white person with no prior history of their roots probably wouldn’t run around calling themselves European Canadian. On the other hand, West Indians are a great example of people who ARE completely in touch with their complicated history, who identify as WEST indians. Not Indians, even with almost full adoption of things like Indian religions. It is what it is, not what it used to be.
    We as a culture have another great advantage. Our skin. This is most often enough to quell any question of our heritage. Of course, I implore anyone to get in touch with their roots, this is satisfying to the soul. But be real.
    If you’re from Detroit, you’re an American from Detroit. I think I can safely think that anyone with half a brain, especially in North America while they may not ‘understand our complicated history’ they are certainly ‘aware of it’.

    Someone who is Somali can say, confidently, that they are Somali

    Just like Trey (using your example) can safely say she is British with roots in Jamaica (it’s even more exciting than JUST being from Somalia, as I am of mixed hertiage).
    I mean, what’s wrong with that?
    (Sorry for the long-winded reply, lol)

  • http://undefined torontothegreat

    Alison Isaac, Sorry I thoiught I would break your post into 2. They seem like 2 very sepreate things to me.
    I believe Marc answered his own question.

    The fact that Canadian filmmakers and producers can’t get VIP accreditation to many of the premiere TIFF events is just embarrassing.

    The ‘black people that mattered’ ie, the people involved in this project were there. Looking any deeper into it, is pure speculation and I’m not sure speculation is worth discussing.
    a) Oprah is HUGE. EVERYONE wants to be there. Keep that in mind. I’m sure ALL the correct who’s who of what were there. I’m glad colour was secondary.
    b) To be honest, I think Trey’s work is way more groundbreaking than what I know of this film. Classism, abuse and mental disabilities are not nice topics, but hardly groundbreaking in american filmography.
    Throw in a black cast and some RnB and that automatically makes it the plight of black Americans? I could apply this same exact story to any colour of a person living in the same circumstances. The Color Purple, it is not.

  • http://undefined Vincent Clement

    You and I know that the term “African-Canadian” has nothing to do with unknown or complicated ethnic, tribal, cultural or national heritage or history. It is a politically-correct replacement for the word “black”.
    Can a “white” person born and raised in South Africa but now residing in Canada call themselves an “African-Canadian”? How about some one born in Egypt? Or Libya?
    Why does someone believe that have to identify themselves as a black person? Or “African-Canadian”? Or a “person of colour”? What drives you to identify yourself as “African-Canadian”?
    I understand that some people want to learn about their heritage or that their family history is complicated. But calling oneself “African-Canadian” in that case is a convenient cop-out. It is dishonest and disingenuous.

  • http://www.bitpicture.com Marc Lostracco

    I’m not sure, but since the term “African-Canadian” was used within the context of her conversations with Oprah and her team, it could be chosen to appeal to a term that Americans tend to use, since trey uses the term “black” in the rest of the article. Still, it’s marker that has a cultural meaning deeper than simple semantics, and generally, I tend to default on calling people what they want to be called.
    Both terms are obviously technically problematic, since many people may be generations and generations removed from African ancestry, and because black people are obviously actually brown, not black.
    My son is West Indian, and I usually refer to him as brown, as he does to himself, and myself as pink, as he does to me. Because if you’re referring to skin colour, that’s what we are. Culturally, however (especially south of the border), the terms that refer to the “Black experience” overall are more complicated. The brown-skinned side of my family uses multiple terms interchangeably to refer to their heritage, although I almost never hear “African-Canadian,” probably because it’s kind of clunky and doesn’t have the equivalent historical gravity as it does in the U.S. Most people I know use the country they are from as the primary marker (i.e. Jamaican, Dominican, Guyanese, etc.). I know white people from the West Indies who classify themselves as Trinis and Bajans too.

  • http://undefined torontothegreat

    Still, it’s marker that has a cultural meaning deeper than simple semantics

    Which culture? Many countries/cultures outside of africa have ‘brown/black’ people, so it’s pretty ambiguous still. In fact, most of the world is ‘brown/black’.
    IMHO, it’s more problematic then it’s worth. I always get so upset when someone describes someone else by the colour of their skin. For your child, this is different, they may not understand how to communicate as effectively and that’s okay. The simple fact your son calls you ‘pink’ is a good marker to me of this.
    Don’t even get me started on the double standard this word has created when using it as a descriptor.

  • http://www.bitpicture.com Marc Lostracco

    I was referring to American culture, generally.
    I agree that the shade or tone of skin shouldn’t be a marker for describing people when the situation isn’t a comparison of skin colours. With me, it’s somewhat different, because if I’m at a playground or something, people don’t associate my son with me as his father (don’t even get me started), but when asked which child is mine, I usually describe him by the clothes he is wearing.
    I love that he calls me “pink,” because it’s so innocent and true and untainted by the context of racism. Mind you, in my home, I’m the minority when it comes to skin tone. When he describes other kids at school, however, he never classifies them by skin colour, but by hair colour or clothing.

  • http://undefined torontothegreat

    kids innocence is just 100% AWWWWWWW :)
    I still stand by my comment, even in you only referring to the U.S. Many different brown people living there. Probably whites are a minority there too.

  • http://undefined torontothegreat

    oh wait, Marc. Melting pot. My bad ;)