An Inspired Chat with Shaina Simmons

Shaina Simmons shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.

Shaina , really appreciate you sharing your stories and insights with us. The world would have so much more understanding and empathy if we all were a bit more open about our stories and how they have helped shaped our journey and worldview. Let’s jump in with a fun one: What are you chasing, and what would happen if you stopped?
I’m chasing cultural memory to keep the flame alive — through movement, story, and healing that outlives me.

It’s what Roger Guenveur Smith once called organic archaeology after seeing my solo show, Bayou Blues — and I’ve carried that term ever since. It perfectly describes the way my work digs through lineage, body, and spirit to reclaim what’s been buried and offer it back as medicine.

I’m building work that will only grow more urgent as time unfolds. If I stopped now, a vital thread of evolution would be lost — not just for me, but for those coming next.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am Shaina — a mother, actress, writer, and multidisciplinary artist from New Orleans. My work centers Black women’s stories through performance, poetry, and movement, often exploring cultural memory, ancestral healing, and personal transformation.

I’ve appeared on screen in Fantasy Island and presented work at institutions and festivals across the U.S., the Caribbean, the U.K., and Asia. I’m the creator of the Artist of Color Meetup — a global community that grew over five years and found a home at the Edinburgh Fringe — and the founder of AfroFuturo, which began as a performance piece and has since evolved into a creative healing collective centering diasporic Black women through retreats and ritual-based art.

One of my most personal projects is Bayou Blues, a solo show drawn from my own experiences with bullying, colorism, and surviving Hurricane Katrina. After one performance, Roger Guenveur Smith described my work as organic archaeology — a term I’ve embraced to describe the way I excavate story, body, and memory.

Now, as we approach the 20th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, I’m preparing to launch a Kickstarter to adapt Bayou Blues into a short film and publish the children’s book version under my own imprint. It’s part of a larger vision to preserve cultural memory, amplify Black voices, and pass on liberatory stories of the African diaspora to the next generation.

Okay, so here’s a deep one: What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
One of my earliest memories of feeling powerful was through movement — before I ever knew what “performance” was. As a kid, I had a natural gift for dancing, flexibility, and gymnastics. I could drop into a split like nothing — it made people pause. My body just knew how to move.

But like many Black girls, that power wasn’t nurtured — it was shamed. The same joy I felt as a child later became something people condemned me for. I learned early that the world often punishes Black women for being fully in their bodies.

I also remember being very young — before starting school — watching the way my skin shimmered in the sun and thinking, I’m beautiful. That glow. That knowing. But that, too, was shut down once I entered the classroom.

These early moments — both radiant and painful — live inside Bayou Blues. That’s why it’s so important to take this performance from stage to screen, and into children’s literature. It’s not just a show or a book — it’s my way of reclaiming those first flames of power and passing them forward.

Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Honestly, there have been several times I’ve almost given up. The weight of being a dark-skinned Black woman trying to heal generational trauma, raise my child solo, and create meaningful work — can be overwhelming.

There have been moments when I’ve felt invisible, unsupported, and exhausted from carrying it all. But nothing but God and the strength of my ancestors have kept me.

And now, as a new mama, I know I can’t stop. I owe it to my son to keep going — to show him what it looks like to heal and find joy despite it all, to create beauty and truth in the face of injustice. That’s why I do what I do. That’s what Bayou Blues is built on. It’s not just a story — it’s a lifeline.

Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What are the biggest lies your industry tells itself?
One of the biggest lies the industry tells itself is that it champions authentic stories — when in reality, it often sidelines the people most qualified to tell them.

As a dark-skinned Black woman with deep roots in New Orleans, an MFA, and lived experience, I’ve had to fight for the right to tell my own story. I’ve watched others receive funding to make art about Black culture and history — while I’m still navigating gatekeeping for the stories I was born into.

Adapting Bayou Blues into a film and children’s book isn’t just art — it’s memory, it’s medicine. I shouldn’t have to convince funders that I have the same — if not more — skill, training, and talent. I shouldn’t have to make my story more palatable for institutions to see its value.

That’s why I created my own. I’m self-publishing, self-producing, and building my own lane. Because the industry doesn’t always reward truth — but I’m still committed to telling it.

Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I hope they say I touched a string in their heart — that something I created inspired them to heal, to look deeper at themselves, or to care more about the people around them.

I hope I inspired someone to take one small, meaningful action — to pass on kindness, protect a story, or move through the world with more intention. I hope they say I was real. That I was kind. That I was a great mom.

And I hope they know they were part of the journey — that by witnessing or supporting my work, they helped carry the flame forward. That together, we built something lasting.

Contact Info:

• Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/TheShainaLynn/

Image Credits
Phillip Anthony Portraits
Carlos Brignoni Joy