I grew up Catholic, so I had a more traditional relationship with religion.
I always say my Christianity and my virginity don't limit options. I think that they refine my options.
I don't know how often white people look around and think, 'Wow, there's really a lot of white people here; we should fix that.' But I know black people often look around and think, 'Wow, I'm the only one here - why?'
There's this idea if you are a woman of colour, that you must never let them see you break down. That we've got to show ourselves in the best light, always, as the 'Strong Black Women' and bring that 'black girl magic' all the time.
I have a show called 'First Gen' that David Oyelowo is executive producing.
There's not one black narrative. There's not one way to be black.
I grew up in a place called Port Harcourt, Nigeria, the youngest of four. What I remember most about Nigeria was the ease. I would play by the pool, have fun with friends.
My mom would always say, 'Hair is a woman's beauty.' I cut my hair all off. I was completely bald, and that was, like, 'What in the world?' My mom was like, 'What happened?' She had so many questions.
There's a lot of negative speak about what it means to be an immigrant. I'm like, 'OK, I don't know where that came from.' We do the dirty jobs. We do the good jobs. We get the job done.
I was looking around this room, this sea of industry folk. If I had have worn black and white, somebody would have asked me to get them a cocktail; the only other people of colour there were servers.
I knew I didn't want to be a doctor but didn't know what I wanted to do. I prayed, and all I heard back was: 'Do comedy.' It was something I had never done before, but I gave in, tried comedy, and the rest is history.