Jesse Williams

Activism Eclipses Art

One of the fiercest voices for social justice today, actor and director Jesse Williams explodes the boundaries of his role

For artist and activist Jesse Williams, Black Arts Matter. Hailing from an creative Chicago family—a painter mother and two brothers who are also artists—it was inevitable that Williams would pursue his own performance career with an eye toward being inclusive and supporting others in creative pursuits. Likewise, growing up in a household in which activism was always a part of his parents’ lives, particularly as it related to the lives of “black and brown folks,” Williams was bound to integrate his talents with his sense of citizenship and responsibility.

Having been politically active throughout high school and college, in his mid twenties Williams found himself pulled into acting through his love of history (which he once taught) and storytelling. “Between cultural competency and historical reality, the narrative of storytelling is our daily lens by which we interpret the world,” he reflects.

After moving to Los Angeles to pursue his acting career, Williams is going into his ninth year on Shonda Rhimes’ ABC series Grey’s Anatomy—he was interviewed about collecting art by Afrofuturists such as Shinique Smith and Iona Rozeal Brown. “Early on, I made a point to big up other black creatives,” he explains. That interview led him to contemporary artist Hank Willis Thomas, who invited him to collaborate on the critically acclaimed interactive project Question Bridge, which focuses on black male identity in America. “[Hank’s mother Dr. Deborah Willis] shared that interview with him,” Williams recalls. “I really connected with Hank’s work, and we hit it off immediately.”

Once Williams discovered what he calls the “real, awesome power” of his platform, he realized he could make a greater contribution by using his fame in the right way. “It never was important whether [my activism] was accepted,” he explains. “My identity was well established, and acting wasn’t something I cared about that much.” However, once Williams integrated his interests, he discovered his métier. “I’m excited that my career is just beginning, about what’s next in the film space. And directing,” he shares. It has just been announced that he will make his feature directorial debut with Till, a film about the aftermath of the Emmet Till lynching in the Jim Crow-era South. “I’m also excited to take the helm in storytelling and to wear the producer hat,” he says. He’s sold a show to Amazon, and he’s a producer on Till, along with Whoopi Goldberg (who will also star), Frederick Zollo, Barbara Broccoli, Thomas Levine, Leah Natasha Thomas, and civil rights filmmaker Keith A. Beauchamp.

As a millennial who fundamentally understands the importance of connecting with his audience, Williams first came to social media somewhat reluctantly through a Myspace page that, “like, 16 people visited,” he recalls. “I came late to Twitter, and I really didn’t get the point until it was described to me as being like a group text to the people you know and follow. I started small [because I] wanted to view it as a place to do what you don’t get to do elsewhere, to show my comedic side,” he reveals. “But because I’m an inherently political person and people are worried about how you get your next paycheck, I’m consistently one step away from deleting all social media.” Having such a high profile also has a more serious downside. “I’ve gotten death threats, handwritten notes, things delivered to my home, where my family lives. Luckily we’re no worse for the wear. I’ve always gotten cyber harassment, but when it comes in person it’s a little bit different.”

As with his activism, Williams soon realized that the ability to make direct connections and to effect change was much greater than the opportunity to crack some jokes. “What keeps you on there is viewing other people—Black people are so creative! Tumblr in particular makes me happy. They’re so fast, [always] figuring out ways we can embrace and utilize it, realizing all this black creativity and expression. With black artists trying to stay sane and employable, [when it’s] hard to get one job—never mind consistent gigs—there are increasingly more opportunities. In this generation of 20 to 40 year olds, there are a number who are participating in social movements, using their voices with increased levels of exposure.”

Such constant exposure comes with an unexpected, more philosophical cost. Before social media, Williams reflects, “it was much easier for folks to look noble and regal in, say, a couple of black & white news photos. Now, with everybody fully [and constantly] exposed, a photo walking into the White House with Congresswoman Maxine Waters might not paint as sweeping a picture. Folks don’t want to romanticize and imagine the conversations anymore. They want to hear ‘em.”

Indeed, in this dire political moment, Williams’ glass is encouragingly half full. “I feel really wonderful and optimistic about the creative culture in this country and the world. People who are marginalized are creating a tremendous quality of work in TV, film, writing, particularly in black expression, finding their own voices, what matters. It’s going to last a lot longer.”

As with his electrifying, galvanizing speech when accepting the Humanitarian Award in 2016 at the BET Awards, Williams doesn’t mince words, and he does not shy away from taking a political viewpoint that posits the arts—and the audience—as catalysts for change. “Now you’ve got attention—what are you going to do? What this has done is woken up the somehow otherwise sleeping segments to mobilize, to get out and participate,” Williams continues. “Once you become awake you can make a difference.”