Play ‘This Kind of Black’ returns to tell a vital Moss Side story

Reece Williams’ hit coming of age play set in Moss Side was such a big it when it was commissioned by HOME last year, that is returning to the venue next month, as part of a tour.

This Kind of Black is set in the 1990s and the poet and musician explores this vibrant part of the city through a different lens. He also dares to look at the impact of trauma on young black boys across the generations. We caught up with Reece to find out more.

Interview with Reece Williams

How did you get into poetry?

I got into poetry in high school. The short origin story is that I, like most of the other Black boys in my school (shout out Trinity High, bup bup!!) started poetry with rap. I went by the name of Rampage (after the video game where an Ape and other monsters have to destroy a city) and I wasn’t particularly good. But I enjoyed writing!

The longer, and probably more interesting story of how I got into poetry starts with me getting into trouble a lot in school. I had one too many fights at school and fortunately for me, I had a mentor called Denzel who wanted to help turn things around for me. He gave me a notepad, told me to write about all the things that angered me enough to fight about. That became the start of my writing journey. I shared some of the poetry with my English teacher, Mr Gildea, who told me he was impressed.

A year after leaving high school, a friend told me about poetry workshops happening in the community. That was Young Identity. I joined the collective and never looker back. There I was mentored by Shirley May and Ali Gadema (plus a whole world of other world-leading poets and facilitators) It opened a whole world of creativity up to me. It helped me develop my voice, my craft, my perspective on the world. I was given the opportunity to perform internationally and represent the city. I got to call myself a poet for the first time.

Where did you get idea for This Kind of Black?

I guess the idea came from a number of experiences that were converging in my life. I lost my Dad, who I was extremely close to, to a heart attack. So, I was processing the grief of that experience and learning how to really step into my manhood without the support and guidance of the man I modelled so much of my personality on. I felt compelled to tell the really complex story of my Dad, who was a gangster, who genuinely reformed and did his best to help undo some of the damage he’d done to his community.

I was also working at 42nd Street, a phenomenal mental health charity for young people in Manchester, mentoring young Black men experience trauma, either as survivors of youth violence or as those affected by youth violence in their communities. I started to see so many parallels between their stories and my own, despite being a little bit older than them (or Uncle Reece as a lot of them called me!). I wanted to offer them hope. I wanted to tell them that their path is a path I’m familiar with.

Finally, I had a hilarious conversation with a London-based friend of mine, Yomi Sode, about cornflake pie of all things. He didn’t know it was a thing! We spoke about the shared nuances between our identities as Black men and by the end of the conversation, the idea of This Kind of Black was born.

Anyone who has visited Moss Side or who lives there realises it does not bear any relation the stereotypes we have all seen. But do you feel the perception is changing within the media?

I definitely feel like the perception of Moss Side is changing within the media but for some people, reputations die hard. It’s never quite been the place it’s been painted to be but I think that, thanks to the hard work of lots of community figures and organisations, we’ve found a way to outgrow and outrun the lazy Gunchester label. How people are seen in the media is important because it impacts how they’re treated and I’ll always do my best to be a responsible advocate for my community.

What would you like audiences to take away from This Kind of Black?

I’d like audiences to feel like they’ve walked sixty minutes in my shoes. I want them to be educated about all the things that make this kind of Black. I want them to be moved by the vulnerability of how I explore masculine relationships. I want them to forget that they’re listening to poems and rather, feel like they’ve been on a journey. I want them to laugh, to smile and reimagine what poetry and theatre can be.

If there is a young black man reading this who wants to write but does not know anyone else who does this, what would you advise them?

Come and see me! I run workshops for Young Identity weekly and the workshops are free. I’d also say that there’s something really exciting about being the first poet in your peer group. I think back to when I started writing and I became part of a cohort of young Black writers that have gone on to change how poetry and spoken word are perceived amongst our friends and family. If you have a story to tell, don’t keep it inside.

I’d also say there’s loads of amazing poetry nights on in Manchester. Check them out and you’ll make poet friends.

What was the last thing you saw on stage that you loved and why?

I don’t get out to as many shows as I’d like to if I’m being totally honest! But, the last thing I saw on stage and was blown away by was Movement by Untold Orchestra. It was a stunning show which combined orchestral music, spoken word, movement and lyricism, featuring some of the brightest voices in the city such as Shirley May, Jenna G and Chunky. I loved it because it told a story of the power and resilience of Black people in a really visceral and beautiful way. And there’s something about the combination of orchestral music and poetry that is moving me at the moment!

What do you love about Manchester?

Manchester is a place for everyone. It has so much to offer in terms of arts, culture, heritage and community. It’s an innovative city. It redefines itself regularly and is a city where dreaming is a currency.

Why would you encourage audiences to come and see This Kind of Black?

I’d encourage audiences to come and see the show because it’s a love letter to home in all of it’s facets. It’s challenging and warm all at the same time. It invites the audience to be a part of the story and to explore notions of mental health, grief, masculinity and Black joy. It’s about talking about where we’re from with authenticity and from a place of strength.

I’d also love the Manchester audience to come and give me some positive energy to carry with me for the tour, which is taking me to Lancaster, Liverpool, Oxford, Stockton and London.

Tickets for This Kind of Black at HOME

This Kind of Black is at HOME from 18^th – 22^nd February and tickets can be booked here