Most celebrity interviews take place on set or somewhere like a fancy hotel, surrounded by clock-watching assistants and P.R. reps ready to jump in if the conversation goes offtrack. But thanks to the global coronavirus pandemic, Angelica Ross and I are meeting—where else?—on Zoom. We’re here to talk about work and politics and identity, but the conversation ultimately flows in many directions. Alone in her gorgeous home, she shows me the contents of her refrigerator, raving about a new vegan delivery service. That’s because talking to Ross feels like connecting with a friend who has known you all your life, picking up where you left off, no matter how long it’s been since you last spoke.
Like most people, I first came to know Angelica Ross through her portrayal of the assertive and outspoken Candy Ferocity on FX’s hit series Pose, although her work stretches beyond that role. She starred in the 2016 web series Her Story, produced and starred in the 2017 short film Missed Connections, and became the first trans woman to have two regular series roles when she joined American Horror Story: 1984 in 2019. Pandemic notwithstanding, Ross is busier than ever after signing a TV development deal with the production company Pigeon, hosting difficult conversations on her internet show The Turning Point, and running TransTech Social Enterprises, a company she founded to help trans people secure safe and viable employment.
I’ve said many times that I dedicate my work to Black girls. I place our priorities first because no one else does. And I’m deliberate about including all of us—especially Black trans women—because I have seen how progress interrupts itself when we don’t consider the most marginalized, or worse, deliberately exclude them. One of the qualities I admire most about Ross is that she does the same, all for the sake of the people who feel seen and heard by her presence. She is getting closer to peace with herself while waging war with the ignorance in our world; she is walking in her destiny, and she knows it. Over the course of two hours, Ross and I spoke about everything from dating in These Times to the groundbreaking work she’s done in entertainment already—and how she’s got so much more to come. The conversation below has been edited for length.
Crissle West: This year has been rough. Have you been doing anything new to help you cope with everything going on?
Angelica Ross: I struggled in the beginning. Everything was changing. I had plans just like everybody else had plans.
Right.
I had jobs lined up all year, honey. But you can’t plan for a pandemic. I honestly have been in deep, deep, deep prayer. I feel like I was born for this moment. I’ve had to grapple over the years with my relationship to chaos and challenges. Being a Black trans woman, all I’ve known is challenge. I’m someone who has overcome a lot of trauma, despair, hopelessness, all kind of things that many people are experiencing right now. I’ve already been through Dorothy’s tornado and been able to find the calm in the center of that, to maintain a sense of focus on what I am here for.
That’s such a good point, that as a Black trans woman you have dealt with so much over the course of your life. You’ve had to struggle financially and wonder where your next meal is coming from.
Let me tell you. The approval emails came in from Lyft and Uber because guess what I won’t be? Broke.
Listen, I fully believe in always having a backup plan, and then a backup plan for that one.
And I got that WAP.
Now see, I wasn’t even fixing to go there, but you know, tale as old as time, we can always fall back on it.
I’m clear about my humble beginnings and my history as far as struggling as a Black trans woman having to go through survival sex work. For some folks, they find that’s their calling. For others, it’s survival. There’s levels to this.
I have so much self-worth now that I did not have before. But even if the world were to knock me down to what would seem to be my lowest, I would still have compassion for myself in knowing I’m doing the best that I can in the circumstances that I’m in.
You know your worth. You’ve said before that you’ve had partners who didn’t really accept you as your full self. Can you talk a little bit about what being accepted as your full self feels like? What are you looking for in your next relationship as far as what you will and won’t tolerate? What does a man need to have to catch Ms. Angelica Ross’s attention?
You know, I get bored very easily with these men. It seems like they’re all operating out of the same playbook. I love some of these dating apps—I’ve been on Raya and things like that where you can video call before even meeting someone. To see that a guy won’t even make time to have a virtual date with you…I need a man who is willing to be accountable to what he says he’s going to do. Someone who is secure in themselves. I work all damn day, and all throughout the week, so I’m not that girl that’s going to be texting you all throughout the day. You got to be fine with that because I’m definitely fine with you not being on me like that.
Yes.
I just don’t have time, nor does it serve me, to not be crystal clear at this point about what it is. I know good damn well I’m here to do some work and make an effect on the world, so I need a man who’s willing to be in my life knowing that. They can have their whole life, but when I need my man on the carpet next to me or at a fundraiser or a gala or an award show, or to just celebrate the good times with…I want to be just like Angela Bassett and Courtney B. Vance.
I need a man to understand the importance of him standing next to me in the world, knowing that I am loved and taken care of in that way. The world should know I am loved and taken care of in that way because I’m doing it for my damn self right now. When I tell you every dude has been questionable up to this point—every single last one of them.
See? And that’s how you know they ain’t in it.
To be honest, I’ve entertained my friends with benefits in the Hollywood circle. I’m human just like everybody else. When I invite someone into my space, it’s because they are treating me the ways in which I want to be treated, even if it’s for that moment. The dudes who are rushing to be serious are well below my vibrational frequency, let’s just say that.
What’s so dangerous about being a woman in today’s society is that you just never know what’s going to happen when you reject a man. I am so concerned for Black women, cis and trans, because it’s so radical and revolutionary for Black women to love themselves more than they love these men. You know what I mean?
Yeah. Love themselves first.
Seeing all these Black trans women dying or the violence that happens, I sometimes worry about being out and about. Then, in this weird sense, I feel spiritually protected. I feel I’m here for a reason, and it’s just not done yet.
We’ve been seeing that violence against Black trans women is maybe on track to be even worse this year than ever before. And it’s something that we as the Black American community don’t tend to focus on, specifically—the violence that Black trans women suffer. I’m thinking about the incident in L.A. with Eden the Doll, Jaslene WhiteRose, and Joslyn Flawless, and how bystanders were literally walking by or laughing and encouraging this. These are human beings who are being brutalized right in front of our faces. I wonder if you have any opinions on how our society can really work toward meaningful change? Especially cis people, because I’m not trying to put the burden on trans people to end the hate against them.
We as women, and definitely we as Black trans women, need to continue to be hyperaware of our environment, and in this climate, finding different ways to protect ourselves. I don’t believe in guns. I’ve been in the military, but it’s just not for me. I am getting a Doberman, though, and I’m getting it trained to have that kind of protection. At this point, I think folks are going to have to learn that they can’t fuck with us.
Yes, absolutely.
We’re not yet at a place where everyone is willing to sort of pick up a rock and be in solidarity with Black trans women. They’re definitely not doing that for Black cis women. It’s hard, but as trans people, we have got to take back our power by not allowing the administration, other people, or society to determine our station in life. Laws can’t govern me because they don’t have context for my life. I can’t allow the world to have any standing in the decisions that I make in growing. By any means necessary, I’m going to blossom.
I love that. It takes cis people of all of genders and identities to say, “We are just not going to tolerate it.”
Let’s not turn our heads away from the accomplices.
Black cis women. I know.
Black cis women and just society at large being an accomplice to creating these circumstances. It irks me to my bones, the ignorance that comes from some cis Black women who can’t hear that I’m not saying you are the cause for Black men killing Black trans women. What I’m saying is you telling him he’s gay for dating a Black trans woman is fucking adding to the toxic masculinity. It’s adding to him performing this toxic masculinity for you. And so many cis Black gay men and women do not have our back as trans people. People think that we have harmony underneath the rainbow.
Everyone—and when I say everyone, I mean everyone—needs to come to the table ready to talk about accountability. If you ain’t got nothing nice to say, go back to the books, go back to Google.
Come on. Ain’t nothing wrong with learning, just shutting up and learning. Let’s talk a little bit about this election that’s coming up. Christ Jesus. I know you said earlier this year that you’re not endorsing a candidate. Do you still feel that way?
Absolutely. I think everyone should vote if they can, and I think they should vote for Joe Biden. This is not me endorsing him. What I’m saying is, make the action that stops the bleeding, and I’m talking about terrible, gushing bleeding under the Donald Trump regime. We must, at all costs, separate ourselves from this dude immediately. But with Joe Biden, you do not have my endorsement. What you have is my commitment to hold you accountable to all of the things that we say we, the people, need. No honeymoon phase. Let’s talk about reproductive health for Black women. Let’s talk about the education system. Let’s talk about housing for Black trans women and how they can get into homeless shelters. Let’s talk about the many ways that we’re not taking care of folks who are struggling with mental health issues.
Joe Biden is not talking about defunding the police. So until you’re talking about that, you definitely would not have my endorsement. I want you to talk about taking money from them and putting money into people who can respond to the situations that we’re dealing with. Putting a bag over a man’s head while he’s having a mental health breakdown and him dying is not the proper way to respond. Shooting someone in the back seven times is not the proper way to respond. If these people are not responding well, ain’t no “let’s see,” ain’t no review, ain’t no reform. Fucking stop, right goddamn now, and get somebody else in there. This has to change now, and I can’t wait until November. Not all of us going to make it to the booth due to ’rona, due to these hurricanes, due to police brutality, due to racists. Everybody’s not going to make it to the polls.
What kind of changes need to be made as far as health care access for trans people and righting some of those inequalities?
There needs to be less gatekeeping for people—trans people, Black people, immigrants—to access the very lifesaving resources and opportunities that we need. We need to look at decriminalizing the intersections of Black trans identity, and what that means is also decriminalizing sex work and not putting trans women in men’s prisons.
There also needs to be restorative justice for trans people that looks like us being able to fully develop into the gifts that we were meant to be for society. It’s a shame that our culture has taken trans people for granted because they have no idea of just how much value we can bring when we know ourselves—capital K—when we know our power. When it comes to being trans, it’s a calling to blossom.
Most of us came to know you through your Candy Ferocity character on Pose. What you did with Candy will never be forgotten. You made her alive and made the story mean so much to some of us who don’t have that experience. As a queer woman, I’m watching it like, ‘Ooh, I feel that. Yes, girl.’ I know that sometimes it can be hard dealing with critiques, but that’s what comes with being the first. With being the trailblazer. So many people feel seen who have never felt seen before. And so they put in a lot on you, but you are handling it beautifully.
You’ve said that when you first heard about Pose, you weren’t really worried about how trans women were going to be portrayed because Janet Mock was behind it. I would love to hear more about your support system of trans and nonbinary people in the industry who have been a source of safety or guidance or comfort.
There's nothing like experience. And what Hollywood has not had is a lot of experience with trans people. Though they have a lot of poor experience of telling trans stories. So there has been this learning curve on both sides of the situation. People don't hear me talk often about my experience of working on Claws. And there's a reason for it.
Oh, no.
The trauma I experienced on that set is a drastic difference from the support that I felt on the set of Pose. Someone referred to me as “he.”
I had a scene that was dropped on me. I knew the scene was coming and we had talked about it. I get to set and I'm now being asked to drop my underwear and wear a modesty garment—it’s basically this tape that goes from your front to your back. I was supposed to do a scene where I'm hovered over some guy and then flip off of him. It was one of the hardest things for me to do because I was pre-op. These garments aren't made for trans people.
Right.
And now I'm asked to do something that should have had a nudity rider ahead of time, but it’s sprung on me. I did not receive a nudity rider in advance nor was there a general nudity rider to my knowledge. There were so many things that happened on that set where I just did not feel affirmed. It's this women-led show and yet the trans woman on the show is feeling shitty. [Editor’s note: On background, a representative from Warner Bros. Television said a scene like the one Ross describes was filmed but did not air due to an issue with the overarching storyline. Warner Bros. Television did not provide additional comment about Ross's time on the show.]
I actually had to take a vacation after that. I went to Miami. There was a moment where I’m walking down A1A and one guy’s like, “Oh, damn, baby, you fine,” and the next man is like, “That’s a mate.”
Oh, God.
I don’t know if it’s ’cause I had my stomach out and I have a six-pack. I’m now beginning to survey my entire presentation and feeling clockable. There were moments being in Miami with these luscious thick girls where I just felt so inadequate as a woman. Then a Buddhist friend hit me up and was like, “Hey, we’re having a meeting down here. You want to come?” The universe would have it that I go to this meeting, and when I get there, only women are there. And as we’re chanting, I ended up getting this dose of healing through chanting with these women. Some of their voices are low. Some of them are high. I remember crying because I felt like I had been welcomed back and affirmed into the space of womanhood by women who did not need to define the boundaries of my womanhood but just accepted it as is. If I did not have a context of my spirituality and Buddhist practice, going through these moments would rip me apart and leave me damaged in my dysphoria.
First of all, I’m so sorry. It’s deeper than just, “Oh, well, it’s a show, it’s a set. This is TV.” Obviously, I’m not trans, but I feel like seeing the cast of Pose has had such a huge effect on the rest of us because it is a story of trans people told by trans people that isn’t shying away from the hard stuff. But we also see the joy, the love, we see the sense of community, we see the way y’all have fun or interact or—
What we see is not a caricature.
Yes! That’s what’s missing from most of the depictions of trans people that we’ve seen in media. The full scope of humanity.
When you’re trans and you go back and you’re watching some of your favorite movies, it just hits you in the stomach to see these moments you thought was really, really funny. Like in Ace Ventura, where they’re throwing up because he kissed a trans woman.
Right. I was like, How did we think this was the funniest movie? You have to take some pride in the fact that the work that you are doing helps other trans people to see themselves as people. You get to be that light to people who did not have that.
That ties into the whole Emmy conversation. I personally was very pissed off when I didn’t see somebody who I very much felt deserved a goddamn nomination. Candy Ferocity is that bitch, period. I know that awards aren’t everything, and white people’s approval is not what most of us are striving for, but there is also at the same time a lot of conversation around award shows and inclusivity. What kind of work do you think these award shows still have to do in terms of actually becoming fair and inclusive? It’s one thing to say it, but it’s another when you don’t actually acknowledge the good, important work that people are doing.
The key is what you just said. It’s one thing to say it; it’s another thing to acknowledge. This is not about an award show. It’s about a body of people who are voting. These are the people I work with. A lot of Hollywood still wants to ignore these trans performances. Right now, just like America, Hollywood loves symbols and symbolism more than it loves actual change.
I received flowers from Gwyneth Paltrow, saying, “This is just the beginning for you,” and received messages from folks like Nicole Kidman, Sheryl Lee Ralph, and just from so many actresses I look up to—Wendi Anne McLendon-Covey, Jenn Lyon, who I worked with on Claws. These are folks who have been in my D.M.s the whole time, from them watching the performance and reaching out. I have made a vow personally that, unless I have to, I don’t watch any programming that has all-white casts. In 2020, there’s no excuse for that. Especially in fiction.
Anything can happen. It just don’t make sense.
I need folks in Hollywood to get a lot more creative and include Black and brown from the producing side to the makeup and hair trailer to all aspects of production, the writing room as well. That’s why horror is about to start looking a lot different. Obviously it has been, with Jordan Peele. When you have Black people as part of telling the stories, then you’re looking at fear through Black perspectives. White people may want to write and show you what their fears are, but we might write and tell you what their fears really are. I want us to spook the hell out of them, baby, have you thinking that Harriet Tubman is about to come back for yo’ ass.
Araminta’s revenge. Somebody make it happen.
Okay. How are you feeling about the whole haircut thing?
My glam squad wasn’t necessarily immediately thrilled that I was cutting all my hair off. They get it though, and they see how much it reveals of myself.
The joy is just radiating off of you. Your team said that cutting your hair wasn’t just about hair, but having new skin revealed. What does that mean for you? Do you feel like you’re coming out of your cocoon in a way?
As a trans woman, a lot of our journey is a process of highlighting our assets and diminishing the things that we don’t like. It’s more than “I just don’t like this about myself.” For some of us, the dysphoria hits when it’s “This makes me feel or look or appear more masculine.” If you’re willing to pull away the layers, you can reveal a type of beauty that exists with or without those things. And so that’s what I needed to see, not just the beauty, but myself. And I was going to say my womanhood, but I’m even speaking beyond that. I don’t need to prove my womanhood to nobody at this point.
People can say what they want, this administration can write what they want. I don’t need to fight for my truth. I live it. Yes, I’m rallying and fighting for trans rights and our dignity, but do you think I’m debating these ignorant motherfuckers about my truth?
Absolutely not.
That’s a nonnegotiable. I need to be able to look at myself stripped down in the mirror and love myself. And it’s kind of radical to do that in front of people. And that’s what I took a risk in doing.
Your womanhood, it is you. It is part of who you are. I think that’s another message that cis and trans people both need to internalize. You don’t have to pass or perform in order to be a woman. I just am. I can have that Beyoncé wig on or not. I’m still the same girl.
Absolutely. Now when I remove a wig or makeup, I only feel more beautiful, not less. I could not always say that in the beginning of my transition. I needed the hair. I needed the makeup in order to make me feel like I belonged in the ranks with women in society and that I was enough of a woman. I eventually realized that cis women and trans women doing the same damn thing, trying to fit into unreasonable standards of womanhood.
Black people, when we talk about being attractive, being feminine, hair is absolutely a huge part of it. And when you get to talking about cutting off your hair, it’s like you’re divorcing yourself from womanhood for a lot of people. So I love that you’re talking about it through this lens of “No matter what my hair looks like or how you feel about it, I am who I am.”
Just in the same way that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so is the gift of transness. If you’re willing to look and see me beyond any labels or anything else, there is beauty, there is a lesson, there is wisdom. Or you can reject what you’re seeing and not see me at all. And guess what? That’s your loss.
As a trans person who was pre-op for most of my experience, I lived more in my spirit than I did in my body. My body felt more of service to these men’s fetishes than my own desires. It wasn’t until I transitioned that my body now is something that I claim and that I enjoy. I’m in the process of taking better care of my body. So my space is a reflection of me doing that. If we move to a different part of my place, it’s where I go chant. Another part is where I’m writing and where I’m giving myself the space to do morning pages. Girl, let me illustrate this real quick here. I got right here across from my desk, this microphone stand.
Hey, now!
I’m cutting an album right now. I have to get up every day and do vocal warm-ups. People are like, “Angelica, how are you doing all this stuff?” It’s because I cut out everything else that was not serving the direction that I was supposed to be moving in.
I feel like so many people are afraid of taking that first step and choosing themselves because they know that sometimes means starting over or letting go of certain things. We’re looking at now a good 12 years since I gave my fiancé the ring back and I chose myself instead of living a stealth relationship with him and not telling people we were engaged. Not having certain people know I was trans, not being able to be involved in activism, all of these different things, to then choosing myself and going through years of hardship. This shit didn’t come easy. Now everything that’s around me is supporting all the stupid dreams that I have that are coming true.
You deserve to have all of that and then some. I know you signed a production deal with Pigeon. So is there anything you can talk about as far as projects coming up or anything you’re working on that you’re excited about?
I’ve got three shows right now that we’re developing. One of the scripted shows is called The Turning Point. It’s about the fact that we’re at a turning point in our culture and everybody’s got to take some sort of responsibility for it. Then I have another show that we’re already starting to film. It follows some of the movers and shakers here in the Atlanta scene that we don’t usually see. Then my big scripted show is called Stilettos. It’s really my life story, my baby. I think people might forget this when they look at me now—they didn’t see those nights where I was under a bridge waiting for the right car to pass by and slow down. Or when I was just all bank accounts, negative, and living with four other roommates, just all the different things that you go through to get to this space.
You wear a trillion different hats. You’ve already accomplished so much as an entrepreneur, actor, and you got this new development deal. Is there anything you’re still hoping to achieve in particular in your career?
Careerwise, I feel like I’m on cruise control. I’m not frantic running after every opportunity. I just had an audition for a major television show that I missed. And it was no sweat off my back because I am booked and busy already.
That’s an incredible space to be in.
As a Black trans woman…
Listen.
Go ask Ryan Murphy how I work. And I don’t mean that in a really light sense. I was so touched when he tweeted about that because he knows how I show up to work. These are long-ass days. I show up, knowing my lines, treating the crew with respect and not having a certain air about myself.
Let’s not forget the talent.
And roll the tape.
Do you feel like there are still any roadblocks or discrimination that you face in your career? How do you deal with being super successful and still feeling like the work is not done, having more that you want to do, and dealing with whatever might be standing in the way of that?
The biggest roadblock that is standing in my way is me. The world is doing a bunch of foolery right now, but the reality is, I’m still struggling with accepting the fact that I am who I said I was. That I am the person that gets called on for certain conversations. Because there’s so much chaos going on in the world, and I keep looking left and right, thinking, When is somebody going to handle this?
Yes, where’s the adults?
Then I have these moments where I’m affirmed. I’m sitting one on one across from Nancy Pelosi, talking about the state of affairs. I’m sitting across from John Lewis. I’m sitting across from Barack Obama. I’m getting calls from Michelle Obama’s crew.
I’m so reluctant to fully embrace who I know I am because the biggest voice you always hear is, “Who do you think you are?” I still care a little bit more than I should about what people think about me. The biggest grave truth that I need to break through right now is to fully come into myself. And that’s why I shaved my head. So that I could almost speed up the process.
Yeah. ’Cause once you get rid of that self-doubt and you really, fully embrace it, let’s just be real. You’re already that bitch and you feel like you haven’t even fully stepped into yourself. So once you do, child, everybody step back.
Step back.
Update (October 6, 2020): This story has been updated to include additional details about Ross’s experience on Claws.
Header image: Wardrobe styling by Shibon Kennedy at Cartel & Co. Backgrounds by Amy Elise Wilson at Sarah Laird. Hair by César DeLeön Ramirêz at crowdMGMT. Makeup by Yolonda Frederick at crowdMGMT. On Angelica: Pants and vest by Christian Dior. Top by TLZ L' Femme. Shoes by Brother Vellies. Earrings and ring by Syd & Pia. Bangle by Ursa Major.
