Arsema Thomas Says Black Love Depicted In She Taught Love Is “A Revolutionary Act”

Arsema Thomas isn’t a huge fan of romance. “I’m the type who’s like, are people falling in love? Ok great. I am not going to deal with that mess,’” she says. 

This revelation shocks me a little bit, considering we’re meeting on Zoom to talk about She Taught Love, a romance movie in which Thomas is the lead. Considering their breakout role as young Lady Agatha Danbury in the Bridgerton prequel series, Queen Charlotte, I was sure we were going to bond over a shared love of swoon-worthy declarations of affection (hearing “I will stand with you between the heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are. Do you love me?” definitely altered something in my brain on a chemical level), but Thomas feels differently. “I don’t know. A lot of romance movies know how to make you feel things and I am not a fan of feeling a lot of things,” she says with a cheeky laugh. 

Thomas is relatively new to the screen, but has built an incredibly impressive personal and professional resume outside of Hollywood. The 30-year-old actor is the child of diplomats and grew up across several African countries. She has a degree in Biophysics from Carnegie Mellon University and a Master’s of Public Health from Yale. 

Her intelligence, poise, and self-assured demeanor makes her perfectly cast in She Taught Love as Mali Waters, an (equally as) accomplished, cool-girl sports agent who immediately captivates Frank Cooper (Darrell Britt-Gibson), an actor struggling to find his feet and using unhealthy coping mechanisms to handle the pressure.

As Mali, Thomas is magnetic, creating a character that feels so familiar to me, because of her nuance. At times Mali is guarded. Other times, hurt. Determined, disappointed, frustrated, elated, head over heels in love. Thomas expertly emotes it all, often needing only to use her eyes. Here, Thomas and I speak about why Mali is such a special character, the pressure that came after Queen Charlotte, bonding with Golda Rosheuvel over their queerness, and the liberation that comes from seeing Black women on screen. 

Arsema Thomas: I mean, it’s such a fucking privilege. A lot of these films, specifically those that came in the 90s—I think of a Love Jones—did something in the conversation amongst us as Black people of what we deserve when it comes to romantic love and the way we treat one another. And I hope that with this film we kind of push the envelope a little bit further. I think seeing a woman commanding the space, as the one who is saving the man, I mean that’s the reality for a lot of Black women. And the fact that we don’t get to see that in a space outside of you know, racial trauma it becomes false. And I think we all deserve our flowers in that sense, to show the shit we put up with… [laughs]. And the choices that we make because we deserve that love just as much as anybody else. 

AT: It felt honestly like a revolutionary act. I think that level of complexity and nuance in their relationship tends to be something that gets put on the chopping block when you’re editing. It’s something that’s diluted out. And to see two flawed human beings—it’s not like Mally is absolutely perfect—it makes it feel as though love is not that scary of a thing to do. To see [the characters] become vulnerable with each other. Because you see them [holding] back for a lot of [the film], and you don’t realize that they’re holding back until you truly see them be themselves with each other. And that moment is so satisfying. That is what I hope that people are able to lock in on and take into their relationships. It does so much of us a disservice to put up a brick wall in front of somebody else in order to protect ourselves, when in reality letting somebody in is the biggest protection. 

AT: It’s true! And Frank is obsessed with Mali. Like ummm…how and where do I find me one of thems?! [laughs].

AT: Girl! Imma give you a call, don’t you worry. I will not gatekeep [laughs]. Everybody deserves a Frank! 

AT: It’s funny, a lot of the people who come up to me are Black women. A lot of dark skinned women. And a lot of their feedback is like “You were amazing! I loved that role. That character is my favorite”. And that makes everything worth it. Because the moment that I got that role, I was like, I know who I’m doing this for. It wasn’t really for me. Because if it was for me, I would grab the check, I would do, like, a half-ass job, and I’d call it a day. But I wanted to make sure that I portrayed women that we all know, who have always been relegated to the shadows, who have never had their time to shine. And so whenever I receive that feedback, it warms my heart all of the way. 

AT: It’s honestly priceless. [I come] from a family where no one is in the creative industry. Everybody is very much like economists and in a lab.They don’t really quite understand all of, like, the culture around entertainment. And so, to have Golda just be there supporting me [meant a lot]. Also knowing that we can lie in the intersection of three things: Black, women, and queer—and that is in itself its own identity—has allowed me to have a lot more freedom in the projects that I take and the way that I then encompass a lot of these roles. I don’t feel like I have to shun one side of myself off because, you know, Mali is straight and is American. [Golda] reminds me that it all can live in the same space at the same time. That’s what being alive as ourselves is. 

AT: Hell yes!!! [laughs]. I was scared, I was so scared! I remember reading the script and I was like This girl is on every page! Do I have the strength to carry an entire set like this? I mean, I saw the way that India [Amarteifio, who played young Queen Charlotte in the series] was stressed throughout our filming, because it’s not an easy thing. People think, you know, leading a film you get to be in the light and in the glamor of it all. But it is a massive responsibility. So the imposter syndrome was real. I was like, I have to make sure that every day I’m on set, I bring my A-game. I need to know this character back to front, this is my number one priority. So yeah, there was a lot of pressure. And I mean this whole story has so many generous moments for an actor, but those are only generous if you know how to execute it. So it was trying to make sure everything was embedded in a reality. That there was no melodrama. That I wasn’t doing a caricature of someone I’ve seen with an illness, or that I’ve seen fall in love, or you know become an ice queen. There had to be balance. 

AT: Darrell [Britt-Gibson] was a massive part of that. He’s the screenwriter, producer, [and] my co-star. He really almost shook me into being like, “You deserve to be here!” And I was like, “Why?” and he was like, “How dare you ask that question!” [laughs]. And sometimes you need somebody to really force you out of your insecurities, because you’ll think your insecurities are the safe place to be but it’s actually the most frightening place. And [Darrell] allowed me to change the script in the ways that I saw fit, he would come up to me and be like, “How would you say this?” And I would be like, “Oh well I would say it like this?” and he would be like, “No. Really tell me.” I’m like, ok he actually wants to know, this isn’t a trick, this isn't his ego, he wants the same thing that I want.

It’s all benched in liberation and revolution. Like we're trying to make something different, we’re trying to dismantle the status quo. And by having a brown skin woman in the lead, number one, the title role—you don’t see that until you’re 30, 40 years into your career. And why should that be? And so, the moment that we realized we were fighting the same fight, the trust was there and I was like, ok I can do the scary things because I know that he’s going to catch me. And that’s the same for Nate [Edwards, director] and even Taissa [Farmiga], you know all these people who are real veterans in this craft were like, “You deserve to be here as much as any of us do”. And it helped. That’s where the power of community comes in. 

AT: I feel like the moment a Black person is in a story it becomes Black-conscious, unless it’s fantasy or sci-fi. But if [the story is] something that is entrenched in this reality, there is a political narrative that comes with having us there. And I’ve been very intentional with the fact that if I’m on a set, I’m probably gonna have opinions. So I need to make sure those opinions are going to be taken seriously. You can usually tell from the way somebody writes a character, how they view that character, and how they view the demographic as well, and it makes it very easy to filter through. Because I’m not really here to continue the damage that I feel like the media has done on young Black girls, telling us that our stories are only valuable to support a white narrative or our stories are only valuable when they are entrenched in our trauma. That’s the stuff that I grew up watching and it’s the reason that I had imposter syndrome coming into this role. Because I was like, I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t think I deserve this. I don’t think my talent is there enough.

In reality, that could not be any more false. I want my acting to be purposeful and that does mean that I’m not gonna be as frequently on screen. But it also means that when I am, it’s for a reason. And the idea, the hope, and the prayer is that I will be on more screens and more dark-skinned women will be on screens because people are creating this work. Stuff that empowers us, and encourages us, and shows us in all of the lights, complexities, and nuances. And no longer in stereotypes. That, to me, is what true liberation looks like.

She Taught Love is streaming on Hulu starting September 27th.