Michaela Coel on the Power of Being a Misfit

How do you reconcile the single-mindedness required to create art with the personal desire to generate social change?

I think the creating of the art is the social change. If everyone is doing their jobs—if you are an outsider and serving this outsider story, and making sure you’re not bending your story to the will of the status quo—than you are social change.

You talk about the power of saying no, particularly in an industry where what is taught is to always say yes. To expect to struggle, and be grateful for anything you get, even if it’s a scrap. I was struck by how much Misfits itself feels like a no. Like making a point to course correct the industry where you could, rather than just being grateful. Do you see the lecture in that way?

I definitely thought it was important to thank the [lecture] board for the opportunity to speak, because it enabled me to truly consider my circumstances. And yet with that, I did say no to the way this lecture was “supposed to go.” Instead, I wanted to be useful. What I have to say cannot be what pleases everyone.

You write that the lecture ultimately helped you find “death to coping so successfully that I put my ability to process life and to grieve in jeopardy.” You were writing the lecture and I May Destroy You at the same time. How did the lecture influence I May Destroy You?

I hadn’t thought about that before, but one absolutely had a knock-on effect on the other. With these works and opportunities, it always does. Kate Ashby [the character Coel played in Black Earth Rising] had a huge effect on who I was when I wrote the lecture and I May Destroy You. She’s a curious, inquisitive person, who keeps going down the rabbit hole even though it’s a bold dangerous place to go. And the lecture—maybe it did help me get to that final draft.

You write about losing your sense of smell for a time. What do you think loss of any kind enables? Whenever a void or an absence arises, do you think that leads to an imperative to create something in its place?

I think so. From pain and loss there is a desire to fill the void. As a creative, you fill the void with art. When you lose something, it’s like you’ve fallen to the floor. Art is a process of trying to get back up.