From embodying gay civil rights activist Bayard Rustin in Netflix’s critically acclaimed “Rustin” to his turn as “The Color Purple’s” infamous Mister, Colman Domingo’s command of both screen and stage goes without question. And now, with the help of the W.K. Kellogg Foundation, the Oscar-nominated, Emmy-winning, and super stylish red carpet maestro has embraced his most important role to date: spreading the gospel of racial healing.
“They reached out to me because they know my heart and what I’m interested in, based on the history of my work and what I do,” Domingo told The Emancipator. “They wanted to do a partnership because they believed we were truly aligned in our [collective] mission.”
By encouraging others to embark on their own racial healing journey, Domingo, 54, aims to “model ways to ignite change.” This includes his support of the foundation’s National Day of Racial Healing — observed the day after Martin Luther King Jr. Day. The actor adds that embracing this duty as a lifestyle, as opposed to an obligation or trade, is the best way to effect change.
“Racial healing [is about] making it a daily practice. Making it a part of your life,” Domingo said. “I love that we have a focused Day of Racial Healing that helps us kick it off. That’s very important to me. That’s the way we truly heal and really do the work.”
In light of seemingly endless instances of White supremacist violence, state-sanctioned aggression and murder, and a racially divisive presidential election, the need for racial healing feels more necessary than ever. Kellogg Foundation president and CEO La June Montgomery Tabron is acutely aware of the task at hand.
“The concept of racial healing is [about] the action. The dialog,” Tabron said. “[It’s] the way people connect with one another to build trusting relationships in order to create racial equity in our nation and [throughout] the world. It’s about dismantling systems that disadvantage some while advantaging others and creating a system whereby all people—regardless of their race or the color of their skin—have access to capital opportunities for quality education, health, and well-being.”
However, in doing his part to dismantle those systems, Domingo insists that the onus doesn’t solely fall on the aggrieved to rectify this condition.
“The first thing we can do is take it off of our own shoulders. The whole purpose of this Day of Racial Healing is to extend it to others who don’t think it’s their [responsibility] to bear as well,” said the actor, who describes himself as a 6 feet, 2 inches Black man from west Philly. “I remember during the Summer of Racial Reckoning. I was like, ‘Why do I have to answer these questions?’ Then, at some point, I thought, ‘But it has to be a part of all of our duties, in some way, shape, or form, because it’s built into the fabric of this country.’
“It’s a shared responsibility. I know we don’t want to take that on—to educate everybody about everything—but we do have to take a little bit of it on because that’s just the nature of where we are [as a society]. To get better, we all have to engage and do the work. It doesn’t have to be heavy. Racial healing can [occur] in small ways in [our lives] every single day.”
For Domingo, that work is intrinsic to a career focused on what he can do as opposed to focusing on what might hold him back.
“I have a pretty successful career. I’ve always believed that if someone didn’t cast me or advocate for me because of my race, I wasn’t aware of it,” Domingo said. “I’ve made inroads for myself. Again, just like with racial healing, it starts from within. I treat myself the way I want the world to treat me. It’s a personal responsibility. My industry responds to the way I advocate for myself, the way I use my voice, the way I open doors and build tables and houses for myself before I ask anyone else to do it. It goes back to the same concept of self-responsibility.”
Domingo’s latest film, “Sing Sing,” is a testament to these virtues. Domingo portrays the falsely incarcerated John “Divine G” Whitfield, who finds renewed purpose as a participant in Sing Sing Correctional Facility’s Rehabilitation Through the Arts program, a real-life curriculum that harnesses the arts to provide life-changing opportunities to incarcerated men and women.
And according to Domingo, the role racial healing plays within the film’s narrative is “extraordinary.”
“We’re able to see these incarcerated men as human beings and not just a statistic,” he said. “It’s not a prison film at all. It’s a film about human beings that are incarcerated. They’re doing the work of healing inside with this Rehabilitation Through the Arts program. We see that as necessary to ensure they’re healthy and doing some real work to eventually [return to their] communities again and help heal those they may have harmed.”
For those eager to leap into the trenches but are unsure of how to begin their journey toward racial reconciliation, Tabron insists it all starts at home.
“It could start by having a conversation with your family. It can start in your community,” she said. “It’s how can you, within your area of responsibility, vote, connect with your fellow neighbors and community, and collectively challenge a system or structure that isn’t working for you, your family, or your community.”
No one should sit this one out, Tabron said.
“We need everyone to join in this space. This isn’t something you can sit on the sidelines for; this is the work of our nation.”
Domingo agrees.
“We all have to engage and do the work,” he said. “If we are curious, and we extend grace and love, we can be stronger and better together.”
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