Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Irene Polk. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Irene, appreciate you joining us today. Has your work ever been misunderstood or mischaracterized?

As an actor, I think it goes without saying that your future and prospects lie largely with your looks. Do you look old enough to be a mom? Can you play a teenager in high school? Are you tall or muscular enough to be Marvel’s next supervillain? Often, the roles offered to an actor are determined by the artistic eye of the director. What they think someone should or would look like based on the context of the project. This is where my personal issues of mischaracterization tend to come in; it is less in the ability to get roles, but rather what roles are offered to me as a black woman.

I’ve always struggled with movies that exemplified black pain. Black women being victims of domestic violence. Black men being pushed through the system. Black children being raised in difficult and abusive households. Straight up slave narratives depicting black people in the most traumatic and devastating ways. These stories have their place, of course; they depict certain realities that black people have had to live through and shouldn’t be shied away from. It can be argued that most of them end positively, with our black characters having overcome the trials they experienced, healed in some way, and have a better future ahead. Even then, I reject the idea that this is all I have to offer as a black woman in artistic spaces.

You see, white people in art get to have fun. They get to fall in love. They get to fight ancient beasts and travel to uncharted lands. Of course, there are depictions of tough relationships and abuse, poverty and hard times- but not only do these pale in comparison to depictions of exciting spy movies, crazy nights out, and romantic Hallmark movie-esque stakes, but these productions are not at the forefront of what we think of when we consider art with white leads. The question is: whose fault is it that there isn’t a lead black character in Lord of the Rings? Why couldn’t Bella Swan have been a black woman deciding if she wanted to be with a werewolf or a vampire? Why aren’t black folks considered as capable or believable in narratives that exist without pain? Fantasy narratives? Love stories?

This is the issue I’ve faced most in my artistic career. Theatres are constantly calling me in when auditions are up for the “black play”. Getting called in for characters who are single and pregnant, in an abusive relationship, or live in the 1800s and are fighting the system. The call for the adventuring lead, girl-who-just-wants-to-have-fun type often seems to miss my desk. I am constantly fighting for the idea that I have a place in stories without trauma, without the main conflict in the story I’m facing being racism. Constantly fighting a director’s eye that takes one look at me and sees me as the two-dimensional side character instead of the leading lady. Black folks should be able to be in the forefront of stories where they get to have fun. Where they get to fall in love. Where they get to fight ancient beasts and travel to uncharted lands. To be a human being with complex thoughts, great friends, and maybe a magic wand.

This problem is not unique to the black experience, of course. Many minorities face the same type-casting and generalizations as it comes to their races. And if you are a director reading this, I challenge you to look beyond your own biases, with the understanding that anyone is capable of leading a story beyond stereotypes and traumas connected to their race (or other demographics).

In 2024, I’m looking forward to having more fun and freedom artistically. I’m looking forward to beautiful stories and complex narratives. I hope to see you there!

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

Hi there! I am Irene Polk, and I am an actor in Atlanta. I’ve been acting and singing for over 10 years and performing is my greatest passion in life. My personal mission is to create and be present in art that represents black woman in narratives excluding trauma and black pain.

During the day I also work as an HR professional, which is more exciting than it sounds!

Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?

Before Covid, I was actually a beautician and worked a lot in hair and skin care. I love hair, and am constantly changing my style or color and I love when people walk away looking good and feeling confident. Covid, however, was a huge hit to the industry, and no one was trying to get that close to anyone’s face anymore. That’s when I decided to get into HR. I already had a Psychology degree with a concentration on Industrial Organizational Psychology, and that helped me pivot into an Human Resources role. It was challenging at times to adjust to a corporate environment, but I’ve really enjoyed the journey. Even with the world’s slow turn back to normal, I’ve decided to stay there, and not go back to hair.

For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?

The most rewarding aspect of being an artist is sharing stories that move and provoke thought in people. Some of my favorite moments have been meeting audience members after a theatre performance and hearing how much the story touched them. That makes me feeling like what I’m doing is worthwhile.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @irenepolk4