Finding Me

Finding Me Plot Summary

Introduction

In the shadow of America's most affluent streets, a young Black girl with worn-out shoes and tattered clothes ran daily for her life, chased by bullies who hurled rocks and racial slurs. That girl was Viola Davis, who would later stand on the most prestigious stages in Hollywood, holding awards that validated her extraordinary journey. Her story begins in the impoverished town of Central Falls, Rhode Island, where she navigated poverty, racism, and family trauma while harboring dreams bigger than her circumstances suggested possible. Viola's journey represents the transformation possible when raw talent meets unwavering perseverance. Through her experiences, we witness the devastating effects of childhood trauma and how the human spirit can transcend even the most crushing circumstances. We see how art becomes not merely a career but a healing wellspring, allowing her to channel pain into purpose. Most profoundly, we observe a woman's gradual recognition of her own worth in a world that repeatedly told her she wasn't enough - too Black, too female, too authentically herself for an industry built on manufactured ideals. Her evolution from a frightened child to a voice for the marginalized offers powerful lessons about finding one's authentic self amid the clamor of societal expectations.

Chapter 1: Childhood in Poverty and Trauma

Viola Davis was born on August 11, 1965, in St. Matthews, South Carolina, on the Singleton Plantation where her maternal grandparents worked as sharecroppers. When she was just a few months old, her family moved to Central Falls, Rhode Island, where her father had found work grooming racehorses. Life in Central Falls was marked by extreme poverty - the Davis family often lived without electricity, heat, or running water in rat-infested apartments. Their home at "128" Washington Street became code among the siblings for "Hell" - a condemned building where plaster fell from walls and rats were so prevalent they ate the faces off Viola's dolls. Food insecurity was a constant companion. The family relied on food stamps that never lasted the month, forcing young Viola to dumpster-dive for food and sometimes shoplift. She recalls going to school hungry and falling asleep in class, not just from lack of food but from being awakened at night by her father's alcoholic rages and violent attacks on her mother. The family apartment often bore witness to bloody fights that left the children traumatized and fearful. Viola wet her bed until she was fourteen, often having to wear wet clothes to school when there was no way to properly dry them overnight. Perhaps the most devastating aspect of her childhood was the racial bullying she endured. As one of the few Black families in Central Falls, Viola and her siblings faced relentless discrimination. Each day after school, Viola would run for her life as white boys chased her, throwing rocks and branches while shouting racial slurs. "You ugly, Black nigger. You're so fucking ugly. Fuck you!" they would scream as she fled. Once, when cornered in the snow, she tried to point out to a Cape Verdean boy leading the chase that he too was Black, only to have him punch her while shouting, "Don't you ever call me fucking Black! I'm not Black! I'm Portuguese!" Despite these traumatic circumstances, Viola found refuge in her relationships with her sisters - Dianne, Anita, Deloris, and later, baby sister Danielle. Together, they formed what Viola calls her "platoon" - sisters in arms fighting for significance and survival. They protected each other, dreamed together, and created moments of joy amid their harsh reality. When the younger Danielle was born when Viola was eleven, it gave her a new sense of purpose and responsibility, teaching her to love someone more than herself. Education became another lifeline. School offered warmth, structure, and opportunity that home couldn't provide. Viola's sister Dianne, who joined them later from South Carolina, became a powerful influence, instilling in Viola the importance of education as a way out. "Viola, you don't want to live like this when you get older, do you?" Dianne asked her. "You need to have a really clear idea of how you're going to make it out if you don't want to be poor for the rest of your life." Those words planted the first seed of possibility in Viola's mind - the idea that there might be a way out of their circumstances. Despite the brutality of her childhood, these early experiences forged in Viola an extraordinary resilience and emotional depth that would later become her greatest strengths as an actress. The painful memories of being chased, of feeling ugly and unwanted, created what she calls her "emotional arsenal" - a well of human experience that she would eventually transform into art.

Chapter 2: The Call to Acting and Education

Viola's path to acting began with a single transformative moment at age fourteen. While watching television in their dilapidated apartment, she saw Cicely Tyson in "The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman." The sight of a dark-skinned Black woman commanding the screen, aging from 18 to 110 years old through the power of performance, opened a door in Viola's imagination. "It was like a hand reached for mine and I finally saw my way out," she recalls. That magical moment revealed a possible escape route from her circumstances through the power of artistic expression. Shortly after this revelation, Viola and her sisters entered a local drama competition at Jenks Park, sponsored by the Central Falls Parks and Recreation Department. With a wardrobe budget of just $2.50 and costumes cobbled together from their parents' closet and St. Vincent de Paul thrift store, they created an original skit called "The Life Saver Show." Despite facing competitors from formal dance schools, the Davis sisters won first place. This victory provided Viola with her first taste of being "somebody" - of having value and being seen beyond the confines of poverty and racial prejudice. Her formal training began when she joined Upward Bound, a federally funded program for first-generation college-bound students. There, acting coach Ron Stetson provided two transformative gifts. First, he challenged the students about their commitment to acting, warning of constant rejection and struggle. While others lowered their hands, Viola kept hers raised high - her experience with hardship had already prepared her for difficulty. Second, when Viola casually mentioned that she and her sister didn't consider themselves pretty, Ron expressed genuine shock: "You both are fucking beautiful! I always thought that. You don't see it?" This simple affirmation was revolutionary for a dark-skinned girl who had never been told she was beautiful. With growing confidence in her artistic path, Viola attended Rhode Island College on a full scholarship through the Preparatory Enrollment Program. Though she initially doubted she could make a living as an actress and considered becoming a teacher, she eventually committed fully to theater. College was challenging - she worked multiple jobs simultaneously to afford weekend meals when the dining hall closed, often taking several buses in freezing weather to get to work. Despite these hardships, she thrived in performance, creating a one-woman show with seventeen different characters that showcased her remarkable range. After college, Viola's dedication led her to the Circle in the Square Theatre summer program in New York City, funded by a grant from the Rhode Island State Council on the Arts. This experience expanded her horizons and convinced her to pursue more formal training. Though she could only afford one application fee, she auditioned for The Juilliard School, one of the most prestigious performing arts schools in the world. Despite her unconventional approach - telling the faculty she only had forty-five minutes for what was typically a three-day process - her raw talent was so undeniable that they fast-tracked her through the process and accepted her. Juilliard proved both formative and challenging. The rigid classical European approach often conflicted with Viola's identity as a dark-skinned Black woman. While the training was invaluable, she felt the unspoken message was that she needed to erase her Blackness to be acceptable. This tension came to a head when she received a scholarship to study in The Gambia, West Africa. There, immersed in the rich traditions of the Wolof, Jola, Mandinka, and SouSou tribes, she experienced an artistic and spiritual awakening. Witnessing women transform everyday objects like calabashes into drums for ceremonial purposes, she realized the true power of art: "Expression that is born out of the necessity of ritual to navigate life." This African sojourn reconnected Viola with her authentic self and became the turning point in her artistic development. Returning to Juilliard, she performed her one-woman show with renewed confidence and cultural pride. By graduation, she had secured representation with top agent Mark Schlegel, setting the stage for her professional career. Her education had come full circle - from the girl running from bullies to a trained actress ready to take on the world, armed not just with technique but with the power of her own story.

Chapter 3: Early Career Struggles and Self-Discovery

After graduating from Juilliard in 1993, Viola entered the professional world with high hopes but quickly encountered the harsh realities of the acting business. Despite having a top agent, opportunities were scarce. "I would audition, get a callback, and then someone else would get it. Or I wouldn't get the audition at all because I was too young, too old, too dark, not sexy," she recalls. The reality of paying rent, bills, and student loans while pursuing acting jobs created constant pressure. Her first professional role came at Trinity Repertory Company in Providence, Rhode Island, in August Wilson's "Joe Turner's Come and Gone." This began a pattern that would define her early career - finding artistic fulfillment in theater while struggling financially. She developed a reputation as a powerful stage actress, working at regional theaters across the country for modest wages. Often, she lived nomadically, staying in temporary housing provided by theaters or commuting long distances. One production had her staying in her sister's unfinished basement in Pawtucket and taking Greyhound buses to Boston to perform in a church in Newton, Massachusetts. The struggle wasn't just financial but also deeply personal. At twenty-eight, Viola found herself in a relationship with a man who, she later realized, never truly loved her. "My objective the entire seven years was earning his love," she admits, reflecting on how her damaged self-esteem led her to accept emotional unavailability. Meanwhile, health issues complicated her life further - severe fibroids caused such heavy bleeding that she would sometimes fall asleep standing up in the subway due to anemia. Without consistent work, she couldn't qualify for proper health insurance. A significant breakthrough came when Viola was cast in August Wilson's "King Hedley II," first at the Kennedy Center and then on Broadway. Her portrayal of Tonya earned her first Tony Award, validating her years of dedication to theater. Yet even this achievement didn't translate to film and television opportunities that matched her talent. The industry's entrenched colorism meant that as a dark-skinned actress, Viola was rarely considered for leading roles, especially ones depicting desirable, complex women. Her first notable film roles came in small but impactful parts. Steven Soderbergh cast her in "Out of Sight" after seeing her audition tape where she embodied a character named Moselle with perfect stillness. "It was the combination of your stillness and that big hair," he later told her. This led to roles in "The Pentagon Wars," "Antwone Fisher," and other projects. For "Antwone Fisher," directed by Denzel Washington, Viola transformed a small role as the protagonist's estranged mother into a devastating portrait of addiction and regret, earning an Independent Spirit Award nomination despite having only two lines of dialogue. Throughout these professional developments, Viola was engaged in another journey - one of self-discovery through therapy. After years of carrying childhood trauma, she began the difficult work of healing. One therapist bluntly told her she "wouldn't know how to cross the street if it weren't covered in piss and shit" - a stark assessment of how she had normalized chaos and hardship. Therapy challenged her to consider a radical idea: "What if you didn't change all the parts of yourself that you are not happy with? What if you just stayed, you? Could you be happy with that? Could you still love yourself?" These questions resonated deeply as Viola navigated an industry that frequently told her she wasn't the right type - not pretty enough, not light-skinned enough, not feminine enough. She continued taking whatever roles she could get, often playing what she calls "best friends to white women" or "drug-addicted mothers." Even as her reputation for excellence grew, she remained in a career holding pattern that didn't reflect her true capabilities. By her early forties, Viola had established herself as a respected character actress who could elevate even the smallest roles. She had developed remarkable problem-solving skills, finding ways to bring depth to underwritten characters. Yet she still hadn't found the opportunities that would fully utilize her talents or allow her to portray the complexity of Black womanhood. That breakthrough would require not just professional opportunity but also a deeper personal transformation - one that would allow her to fully embrace her worth as both an actress and a woman.

Chapter 4: Meeting Julius and Building a Family

In 2003, while filming the television series "City of Angels," Viola met the man who would transform her life. Julius Tennon, a fellow actor playing an anesthesiologist on the show, noticed that Viola seemed lonely in Los Angeles. After they worked together in a scene, he approached her at craft services: "I overheard you say you don't know anyone in LA... I don't want you to be alone here." He offered her his card and invited her to visit Santa Monica Pier. Six weeks later, after encouragement from her therapist, Viola finally called him. What unfolded was unlike any relationship she had experienced before. Julius was attentive, considerate, and genuinely interested in her well-being. After their first date, he called her three times in one evening - once to say he had a nice time, again when he reached the grocery store, and a third time when he arrived home. Later that night, when an earthquake struck at 4 a.m., he called immediately to check if she was okay. "One thing I will not have to worry about is this man calling me," Viola realized. "I do not have to wonder where this man is." Julius embodied everything Viola had once prayed for but scarcely believed she deserved. He was an ex-football player from Texas with a deep, country manner. He had two grown children and a grandchild. He was emotionally available, spiritually grounded, and understood her work as an actress. Most importantly, he saw Viola - truly saw her - in ways no previous partner had. Their connection was immediate and profound. "Every day was a party," she recalls of their early relationship. They laughed, played, worked out together, and never spent a day apart. As their relationship deepened, Julius encouraged Viola to move in with him, splitting the rent on his apartment. This practical gesture reflected his nature as a provider and protector. Where Viola had always struggled with adult responsibilities - navigating Los Angeles, leasing a car, finding housing - Julius offered guidance and support. "My life just got better once I met Julius," she reflects. "He just helped in every single way." For the first time, Viola wasn't solely responsible for her survival; she had a partner who shared her burdens. The security of this relationship allowed Viola to focus more fully on her career. During this period, she secured more substantial roles, including parts in "Far from Heaven," "Solaris," and "The Help." Julius supported her ambitions while keeping her grounded. When she hesitated about taking a role in August Wilson's "King Hedley II" because the character wasn't the lead, Julius bluntly reminded her, "Yo' ass ain't got a job. You need to go on and do that job." She took his advice, and the role eventually earned her a Tony Award. After four years together, Julius and Viola married in 2003 in their condo with just fifteen close friends present. The ceremony was simple but joyful, reflecting their practical approach to life and their certainty about each other. Viola, at thirty-eight, felt ready for this commitment after years of therapy and personal growth. "I had done the work on myself," she explains. They later held additional ceremonies in Rhode Island so Viola's family could participate. For a family that had never experienced a formal celebration, the wedding was a precious gift - a chance to gather in joy rather than crisis. Their partnership continued to evolve as they purchased their first home and launched JuVee Productions, their production company. Then, in 2011, they welcomed their daughter Genesis through adoption. The process was rigorous, involving multiple social workers, extensive paperwork, and home inspections. For Viola, these challenges were insignificant compared to the joy of motherhood. "Hard was relative to me," she explains, reflecting on her childhood experiences. "I had mastered hard. Now I wanted joy." Genesis completed their family unit, bringing new purpose and perspective. Viola found in motherhood another dimension of healing, as caring for her daughter helped her develop the nurturing she herself had needed as a child. The stable, loving home she created with Julius was the antithesis of her chaotic upbringing - a testament to her journey of personal transformation. Through building this family, Viola discovered that she could "literally re-create your life. You can redefine it. You don't have to live in the past." With Julius and Genesis, she formed connections based not on trauma or survival but on love, respect, and mutual support. This family became her sanctuary, a place where she could be fully herself while continuing to grow and heal. In finding this domestic happiness, Viola laid the foundation for the professional breakthroughs that would soon follow.

Chapter 5: Breakthrough with Doubt and The Help

The year 2008 marked a pivotal turning point in Viola's career when she was cast as Mrs. Miller in the film adaptation of John Patrick Shanley's play "Doubt." Though the role consisted of just one powerful scene opposite Meryl Streep, it represented Viola's transition from stage actor to recognized film talent. At forty-two, after decades of dedication to her craft, she found herself in a career-defining moment. The audition process for "Doubt" was unlike anything Viola had experienced before. After an initial audition, she was flown to New York for her first-ever screen test, competing with established actresses like Audra McDonald, Taraji P. Henson, and Adriane Lenox. After securing the role, Viola faced the intimidating prospect of working with Meryl Streep, whom she had long admired. Her anxiety was so intense she consumed "two yellow cans of homeopathic stress relief tablets" before their first rehearsal. Despite her initial nervousness, the experience of filming "Doubt" was transformative. The collaborative environment created by Streep, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, and director John Patrick Shanley allowed Viola to bring her full artistic powers to the role. Initially struggling to understand Mrs. Miller - a mother who seemingly allows her son to remain in a potentially abusive situation - Viola had a breakthrough when a college professor told her, "She doesn't have a choice, Viola. She's doing the only thing she knows to do." This insight unlocked the character's complex motivations. The scene they created became one of the most memorable in the film. Viola's portrayal of a mother making impossible choices in an unjust world earned her first Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress. Though brief in screen time, her performance demonstrated how she could distill decades of Black women's experiences into a few powerful minutes. As Viola later reflected, "I was finally a professional actress with steady gigs, Broadway credits, multiple industry awards, and a reputation of bringing professionalism and excellence to any project. Hell, Oprah knew who I was." Following this breakthrough, Viola was cast as Aibileen Clark in "The Help," based on Kathryn Stockett's bestselling novel. The film provided her first leading role in a major Hollywood production, though Viola approached it with some ambivalence, aware of potential criticisms about portraying a maid in the 1960s South. Despite these reservations, she was drawn to the quality of the ensemble and the opportunity to work with director Tate Taylor. Filming "The Help" in Greenwood, Mississippi, created a powerful sense of community among the cast. Viola formed lasting bonds with co-stars Emma Stone, Octavia Spencer, Bryce Dallas Howard, and others. "We were a group of women, all together, no egos, no jealousy," she recalls. The production became a refuge of female solidarity, with cast members regularly gathering at each other's homes for meals and conversation. This personal warmth contrasted sharply with the film's setting in one of the most racially charged regions of America. Greenwood was where Emmett Till's body had been found, just seven miles from Indianola, birthplace of the White Citizens' Council. Viola felt the weight of this history, noting that "spirits called me throughout the entire filming, demanding that I honor them." She also observed the stark economic disparities that persisted in the area, with the Black community of Baptist Town suffering nearly 86% unemployment while the rest of Greenwood stood at 16%. Her performance as Aibileen earned Viola her second Academy Award nomination, this time for Best Actress. Yet the experience was complicated by the critical discourse surrounding the film. While praised for its performances, "The Help" faced criticism for centering white perspectives in a story about Black suffering. Viola later expressed her own critique: "My misgiving was playing a character who was unexplored." She wished the film had delved deeper into Aibileen's internal life and questioned the narrative choice to have the maids refuse payment for sharing their stories - a decision she felt sacrificed realism for a more palatable narrative. Despite these complexities, "The Help" significantly elevated Viola's profile in Hollywood. However, the expected career transformation didn't immediately materialize. "After The Help Oscar nomination for female lead, I was not getting leading lady roles," she recalls. Instead, she was offered small supporting parts - "five days of work on Ender's Game," "ten days of work as a friend/maid in Beautiful Creatures." This disparity highlighted persistent inequities in the industry, where even acclaimed Black actresses struggled to secure roles that matched their talents. The period following "Doubt" and "The Help" represented both achievement and frustration for Viola. She had proven her exceptional abilities and received the highest forms of industry recognition, yet still found herself constrained by systemic limitations. This tension would fuel her determination to find roles that truly reflected her capabilities and to create new opportunities through her production company. The stage was set for her next breakthrough - one that would allow her to fully redefine what was possible for a dark-skinned Black woman in Hollywood.

Chapter 6: Annalise Keating: Redefining Black Women on Screen

In 2014, at age forty-seven, Viola Davis accepted the role that would fundamentally change both her career and the landscape of television: Professor Annalise Keating in Shonda Rhimes' and Pete Nowalk's "How to Get Away with Murder." This character - a complex, sexually fluid, brilliant, and deeply flawed criminal defense attorney - represented an unprecedented opportunity for a dark-skinned Black woman on network television. "I never saw anyone on network TV who looked like me playing a role like this," Viola reflects. "It was one of those moments that I always prayed for, but suddenly it was forcing me to confront my own shortcomings." From the beginning, Viola approached Annalise with radical intentionality. During negotiations for the role, she made one non-negotiable demand: "You have to allow me to take my wig off in the first season." This wasn't merely an aesthetic choice but a strategic one - by revealing Annalise's natural hair and bare face in intimate moments, Viola forced the writers to reckon with the character's authentic humanity rather than creating a glossy stereotype. "It would force them to write for THAT woman," she explains. "Taking off the wig in HTGAWM was my duty to honor Black women by not showing an image that is palatable to the oppressor." Viola also suggested that Annalise's given name was "Anna Mae" - a name she had deliberately changed to navigate a white, male-dominated world. This character detail, drawn from Viola's own mother's experience of changing her name from "Mae" to "Mary," added layers of complexity to Annalise's identity. It positioned her as a woman constantly code-switching and adapting to survive, carrying private wounds beneath her formidable public persona. The role allowed Viola to challenge deeply entrenched stereotypes about Black women, particularly dark-skinned Black women, in media. Where previous roles had confined her to playing strong, maternal, or authoritative figures stripped of vulnerability and sexuality, Annalise was permitted the full spectrum of human experience. "Black women who look like me are not usually allowed to be sexualized because 'we don't think you're attractive,'" Viola observes about Hollywood's traditional perspective. "We want to see you strong. We want to see you curse someone out. We want to see you holding a baby... but we don't see your vulnerability and we definitely don't see you as a woman." The character's bisexuality further expanded representations of Black women on screen. Annalise's relationships with both men and women unfolded with nuance and emotional authenticity rarely afforded to Black characters. In one memorable scene, Viola performed opposite the legendary Cicely Tyson, who played Annalise's mother Ophelia. The scene confronted generational sexual trauma in Black families with unflinching honesty. When Annalise accused her mother of failing to protect her from molestation, Ophelia responded, "It happened to all the women, that's our curse. It happened to my mother. It happened to her mother." This moment resonated deeply with Viola, who had experienced sexual abuse in her own childhood. As the series progressed, Viola's performance garnered critical acclaim and a historic achievement: in 2015, she became the first Black woman to win the Emmy Award for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series. Her acceptance speech became an instant cultural touchstone: "The only thing that separates women of color from anyone else is opportunity," she declared. "You cannot win an Emmy for roles that are simply not there." Beyond the awards and accolades, "How to Get Away with Murder" represented personal liberation for Viola. "I understood that I was no longer and never was that ugly Black nigga," she reflects. "The role liberated me. I said to myself: All I've got is me. And that is enough." By embodying Annalise - a woman defined neither by her beauty nor her Blackness but by her brilliance, complexity, and contradictions - Viola found healing for her younger self who had been told she was unworthy. The show's impact extended far beyond Viola's personal journey. For viewers, particularly Black women, Annalise Keating represented a revolutionary presence on mainstream television. Her character broke new ground not by being flawless or inspirational but by being fully human - damaged, manipulative, and vulnerable while simultaneously brilliant, passionate, and resilient. "With How to Get Away with Murder, I became an artist in the truest sense of the word," Viola notes. The six-season run of the series coincided with significant shifts in Viola's life and career. She and Julius strengthened their production company, JuVee Productions, with a focus on creating more diverse and complex roles. They renewed their wedding vows in a celebration attended by family and influential friends like Gayle King, Phylicia Rashad, and Debbie Allen. And Viola continued to advocate for equity in the industry, using her growing platform to address persistent disparities in opportunity and compensation. Through Annalise Keating, Viola didn't just secure her place in television history - she fundamentally altered what was possible for Black women on screen. The character became a watershed moment, challenging industry executives and audiences alike to recognize that women who looked like Viola could carry prestigious dramas and portray the full complexity of human experience. In finding Annalise, Viola also found a new level of artistic freedom and personal confidence that would propel her toward even greater achievements.

Chapter 7: Oscar Journey with Fences and Embracing My True Self

In 2016, Viola Davis took on the role of Rose Maxson in the film adaptation of August Wilson's "Fences," directed by and co-starring Denzel Washington. Having previously played the role on Broadway in 2010 (for which she won her second Tony Award), Viola approached the film with deep familiarity with the character. Rose - a 1950s housewife who sacrifices her dreams for her family only to discover her husband's infidelity - represented the kind of fully realized Black female character rarely seen in mainstream cinema. The filming of "Fences" became a transcendent experience for Viola. "Perfect material for the screen based on the play by August Wilson, who exhumed and exalted ordinary people," she reflects. Working again with Denzel Washington, whom she calls "that actor's director," pushed her to new depths. During a crucial scene where Rose confronts her estranged son Cory, Denzel instructed Viola to begin by slapping him - an action not in the script. Though initially resistant, Viola followed his guidance and discovered emotional layers she hadn't accessed in her stage performances. "It was a magic moment. The moment that is about preparation but also about luck, kismet, God. It's where everything aligns," she explains. For Viola, Rose Maxson was deeply personal. "These characters in Fences were real to me, they were my life," she notes, seeing echoes of her father Dan Davis in Troy Maxson. The film allowed her to honor the generation of Black Americans whose dreams were deferred by systemic racism, including her own parents. Shot in Pittsburgh's Hill District - August Wilson's birthplace and the setting of his plays - the production carried historical and cultural significance that resonated with Viola's own journey from poverty to prominence. When "Fences" was released, Viola's performance garnered universal acclaim. At the 89th Academy Awards in 2017, she won Best Supporting Actress, becoming only the second Black woman to win in that category since Hattie McDaniel for "Gone with the Wind" in 1939. Her acceptance speech honored Wilson's legacy: "I became an artist, and thank God I did, because we are the only profession that celebrates what it means to live a life." The Oscar victory represented not just professional validation but personal vindication - formal recognition that the dark-skinned girl from Central Falls deserved her place among Hollywood's elite. This triumph coincided with a deeper process of self-acceptance for Viola. Now in her fifties, she had reached a place of profound comfort with herself - her appearance, her voice, her history. "I'm aware of what my presence out there means to Black women. And how important it is to speak my truth," she reflects. "Because here's the thing you can't take away or replace: You can't replace my authentic story with a racist one." This authenticity extended to her approach to aging in an industry obsessed with youth. Unlike many actresses, Viola embraced the natural evolution of her appearance, understanding that longevity required self-acceptance rather than desperate attempts to maintain an illusion of perpetual youth. She and Julius renewed their commitment to creating a legacy beyond individual achievements through JuVee Productions, developing projects that would expand opportunities for other actors of color. Throughout this period, Viola also deepened her commitment to advocacy. She became increasingly outspoken about pay disparities in Hollywood, revealing that despite her acclaim, she was often paid significantly less than her white counterparts. "I got the Oscar, I got the Emmy, I got the two Tonys, I've done Broadway, I've done off-Broadway, I've done TV, I've done film, I've done all of it," she told a Women in the World conference. "I have a career that's probably comparable to Meryl Streep, Julianne Moore, Sigourney Weaver... And yet I am nowhere near them, not as far as money, not as far as job opportunities, nowhere close to it." While the professional achievements were significant, equally important was Viola's personal evolution. The little girl who had once prayed to be taken away from her traumatic circumstances had become a woman who could look back at that child with compassion rather than shame. "I'm holding her now. My eight-year-old self. Holding her tight," Viola writes. "She is squealing and reminding me, 'Don't worry! I'm here to beat anybody's ass who messes with our joy!'" In a profound way, Viola's Oscar journey with "Fences" represented the culmination of her lifelong struggle to be truly seen. From a child running from bullies who called her ugly to an acclaimed actress accepting the industry's highest honor, she had traversed not just socioeconomic barriers but the even more formidable obstacles of self-doubt and internalized shame. The girl who once felt unworthy of love had become a woman who understood that her most powerful contribution was not just her talent but her authentic self - her willingness to stand in her truth despite an industry and society that had often told her she didn't belong. As Viola embraced this truth, she expanded what was possible not just for herself but for countless others who saw themselves in her journey. By refusing to compromise her identity to fit Hollywood's narrow definitions of beauty and worth, she created space for new narratives about Black womanhood. Her presence at the highest levels of her profession became not just a personal victory but a collective one - proof that excellence could not be denied, even in systems designed to exclude those who looked like her.

Summary

Viola Davis's extraordinary journey from extreme poverty in Central Falls to the pinnacle of Hollywood success embodies the transformative power of perseverance, talent, and self-acceptance. Her path illuminates the insidious damage inflicted by racism and poverty while demonstrating how these wounds can be healed through artistic expression, meaningful relationships, and unflinching self-examination. Through decades of struggle - first for basic survival, then for professional opportunity, and finally for authentic representation - Viola refused to surrender her dignity or compromise her artistic integrity. Her ultimate triumph lies not just in her unprecedented "Triple Crown" of acting (Oscar, Emmy, and Tony awards) but in her ability to reshape cultural perceptions of Black womanhood. The most profound lesson from Viola's story is that true liberation comes from embracing one's authentic self rather than attempting to conform to external expectations. Throughout her career, Viola faced pressure to minimize her Blackness, alter her appearance, and accept limiting roles. Her decision to instead demand full humanity for herself and her characters - most notably in removing Annalise Keating's wig to reveal her natural hair - represented revolutionary acts of self-affirmation. For anyone facing marginalization or feeling pressured to shrink themselves to fit others' expectations, Viola offers a powerful alternative: "I'm no longer ashamed of me. I own everything that has ever happened to me. The parts that were a source of shame are actually my warrior fuel." This transformation from shame to empowerment provides a blueprint for turning personal pain into purpose and perceived disadvantages into distinctive strengths.

About Author

Loading...

Viola Davis

Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.

Read more