Adjoa Andoh has so much to say that our video call could barely keep up. She was talking to me from behind a moving car as I was on my way to the airport in Milan, after a charity flight with the International Rescue Committee. The line remains frozen and then her words follow an emotional torrent. Instead of waiting to ask, BridgertonMrs. Danbury begins our conversation without a beat. She can't help but speak with great detail and enthusiasm about the topics that move and occupy her. This doesn't make the interview straightforward, but it makes for excellent company.
The issue that made her speak with such conviction is the refugee crisis. She spent three days in Italy with the International Rescue Committee, where she met refugee women through the humanitarian organization's safe spaces for women and girls in Trieste and Milan. “The women I met this week came from very different parts of the world – from Bolivia, Pakistan, Ethiopia to Ukraine – but there was one common denominator: they were so terrified by what was happening at home that they had to flee and face danger.” Unknown “My father fled Ghana in the 1950s because of politics and so I look at the refugees and I see my father,” she says. All these refugees are just us who are living in terrible conditions and have to get out of somewhere as quickly as possible. If you break it down, these are just ordinary people who would rather risk smugglers, the sea, physical violence, and sexual violence rather than survive in the environment in which they live. Imagine that these things are better than staying at home because what happens there Which bad.”
The International Rescue Committee's women-only safe spaces were created to give refugee women protection from sexual violence (a widespread issue among women and girls, and to a lesser extent men, who flee their homes while traveling and in exile). It also provides integration support for women seeking safety in Europe. “It's exhausting having to keep your guard up all the time,” Andoh says. “All refugees are vulnerable, but if you are a woman, you are more at risk of sexual violence. Beyond that, women are often the ones responsible for the children, which makes things even more difficult. It is important to have a place where you can finally exhale.” .
Adjoa Andoh and IRC agents in emergency accommodation for people on the move in Trieste, Italy
She told me about a Nigerian woman who left her country of origin with her two-year-old twins and a five-year-old child. “She was exhausted, understandably at the end of her rope,” Andoh says. We took care of her babies so she could sleep for a few hours. It's the little things, and there are no safe places like that when you're on the road. I think what happened in Ukraine and its proximity to our homeland helped us see that sometimes things happen over which we have no control. These refugees are you and me.”
Our call focuses on the women Ando met during her trip, but she is also deeply concerned by the lack of accommodation for male refugees. “The International Rescue Committee helps find emergency shelter for women, but there is nothing for men,” she says. “In Trieste, they are housed in two 18th-century stone military houses next to the docks called The Silos. There is no roof, the place is dirty, and there are rats. They live in tents. It is inhumane.”
Adjoa Andoh visits abandoned silos, where people on the move seek shelter in Trieste, Italy
Ando has a direct way of speaking that draws you in and makes you care. She's a natural storyteller—which is helpful, given that she's spent her life connecting with others by chronicling “people who do things,” as she describes it. Her acting career, which began in the 1980s, spans multiple mediums, from cerebral to mainstream. Her acting credits include Eastenders, Doctor Who, Shakespeare and of course Bridgerton. “All culture is good; “They're all just stories and we pick and choose how we like to hear them,” she says. “Some people get their stories from orientals, Some people get it from the Brontës, others get it from both. I'm a storyteller and I don't care what medium I tell it in, as long as the story is good.
Her personal story begins in the Cotswolds where she grew up in the 1950s. Her father worked for British Aerospace and her mother was a history teacher, which is where her love of history comes from. Her rural childhood, spent playing in rivers, fields and treehouses, was, for the most part, an idyllic life – though not without its challenges. “We were the only African family living in Apple juice with rosé “Existence,” she says. “There were different aspects to what it was like to live there, but my father still lives in the village I grew up in. My childhood gave me a lasting connection to rural England. It was all those clichés. We would leave the house at 9am with a sandwich ready for lunch, and be told to come back at 6. We ran around in large groups of kids, got lost and went on little adventures.
(Adjoa Andoh in Bridgerton).
In her late teens, she began studying law in Bristol, then left and moved to Brixton in south London, where she began acting. When she was 23, she became pregnant with her first daughter, and raised her as a single parent while still working as an actress. A dedicated punk (she still loved The Clash and the Sex Pistols), she formed an avant-garde theater production group called Wild Iris, with director Polly Irvin. Its goal has always been to make all forms of culture more inclusive, which brings us to that Bridgerton – A show that sparked a lot of discussion when it launched four years ago to cast black characters as Regency-era figures. Dramas of the earlier period were overwhelmingly white.
“People were very skeptical about it because we don’t know our history,” Andoh says. “My children have learned about the Tudors and the Nazis, that's all. We don't learn all our history. Bridgerton It's entertainment, not a documentary, so you'll see stories on an epic Shondaland scale – psychedelic orange dresses that weren't the color of the day, but they were designer. We all love to hear a good story, and even more so if we feel like we can be a part of it. Bridgerton I did it on many different levels.
Today Ando lives in south London with her three adult children and her husband, author Howard Connell. Last year, she turned 60 and her world seems fuller than ever. She is a doting grandmother, an active church member, a devoted Leeds United fan and an advocate for the black, women and LGBT community. As the mother of a transgender son, she is also a strong supporter of transgender rights. “One day, I think we might understand that the myriad degrees of gender will be so precise that three genders will seem like a joke,” she said during a 2014 TED talk. “One day perhaps we will no longer look at the color of someone's skin, or the bulges under their clothes, or the trappings of their status and make any judgment at all until we deal with them individually—until we deal with the content of their character.”
Andoh with Bridgerton star Phoebe Dynevor
It is driven by campaigns and struggles for marginalized people. “It's a glorious adventure we're all on and I want to be as proud of it as I can and share that glory with others,” she says. “I want to advocate for people who can't get as much juice out of life.”
Despite the entertainment industry's famously hostile approach to female aging, work is still plentiful. “We are moving in the right direction,” she explains. “There are a lot of interesting roles for older women – which is great because, frankly We are Interesting.” She paused momentarily before ending our interview with a monologue worthy of another inspiring TED Talk. “What does age really mean? Are you still involved in the world? Do you still have an appetite for food, sex, life and travel? We still have great stories to tell, and my career is full and long, I hope it continues. I still have a lot of things I want to say, do, interact and share with different generations. Life is short, we have to dive in and grab it.”
