I usually like to tell people who don't know me
that I work at the DMV.
I would never, like, "I'm an artist."
Like, that just seems too cheesy,
and a little weird for me, and for my personality type.
So, you know what? DMV.
I was born in Brooklyn.
Brooklyn in the '80s, there was, like, a huge crack problem.
Drugs and lots of violence and stuff like that.
My father is from... is from Senegal.
And so he was basically a foreigner to New York.
And my mom is from Georgia,
and also another sort of foreigner to New York.
And I remember my dad used to make me make
really tough faces at him, so that he could trust me
to go check the mail.
Because he would always say, "You have to be tough.
If you look tough, then no one will mess with you."
It's been serving me every single day of my life.
And I'm grateful that both my parents insisted
that I learn to be tough.
My mother and my father separated,
and it was the year we moved from...
from Brooklyn to Manhattan.
And she started singing in the subway.
I remember on Take Your Daughter to Work Day, she took me.
She used to sing at Grand Central Station.
My mom always had, like, a huge crowd around her,
a huge crowd.
And I would watch people watch her for hours.
I was more interested in watching people
be affected by her.
I was too young to get the... sort of the spiritual movement
that comes over you when you hear a voice like that.
She's like a bigger icon to me than anyone
that's ever been on a movie screen,
because she dares to be who she is.
I was in college for psychology, and I get a phone call
about some random audition.
It was for the movie "Precious".
Honestly, I didn't know where I was going
when I left the house.
I thought it was sort of a dumb idea
to go and do an audition.
It was my first week of school.
I'd just got right on track.
And I wasn't an actress.
Before that I had done college theater.
It just happened so fast.
Like, Monday it was like, "I don't think I want
to do that thing," and then Wednesday I was hired.
Boom, I was an actress.
And within a year and a half, I got nominated for an Oscar.
And I decided, "I should probably stay an actress."
(laughs)
I think I have been able to grow as a comedic actor
through Andrea, "The Big C."
As the writers got to know me, and as, you know,
everyone got to know me, and know my actual humor,
it sort of became... she sort of became smarter,
and less one-note, less black and sassy,
and more of, you know, just a person.
And I'm really proud of what they've done with her
and, you know, what they've allowed me to do
with her comedically,
and sort of stylized-ly... is a word I just made up.
(laughs)
I'm the black sheep in any situation.
I always feel so different.
I'm in a magazine, and it's like, "Oh, she's so beautiful,
she's so amazing, she's so talented."
They put that picture online, and in the comments,
"Yeah, but she's so fat.
Why won't she lose weight?"
Those are swords, and they will destroy my confidence.
People are taught to hate themselves, especially girls.
And we're taught that we only have value if we have
a big butt and a small waist,
and a pair of Louis Vuitton shoes.
So what does that do for the chunky 12-year-old in Wisconsin?
I had to figure out that I... I deserve to be in the world,
because I have value; there's something that I give.
And that really is where my confidence sort of had to...
to grow from.
Having the inner strength to pull that sword out
and to sew up that wound and continue,
that has to come from that fire that you light within yourself--
that fire of value.
No matter what they say, no matter how big I get to be,
no matter how small, no matter how black my skin is,
I have value.
And I can have a positive effect on someone else's life.