Destiny Faith

Conversations with some of #HFF26’s compelling “Women on the Fringe”

Ten years ago, I conducted my first Fringe Femme interview out of a desperate need to hear and uplift the various works and voices of women of color during the Hollywood Fringe Festival. I selfishly wanted to bear witness and, in some small way, archive the multiplicity of beautiful voices and conversations women of color were exploring.

The reality was, I was having a hard time discovering and seeing the work of women of color. I knew I had a small network, no connections, and yet I still found a way. Who else was out there existing as outliers? The hardest part of manifesting a new work is finding a way to let people know that you have a show.

The 2026 Hollywood Fringe Femme Interview series is an ode to the women who find a way to tell their stories even when the odds are against them. Each year, a group of women dares to create work by any means necessary.

**This year, I am beyond thrilled to introduce the first of this tiny but mighty cohort, Destiny Faith, actor + writer of The End of the World.**

A solo show that is not afraid to address topics that are continually under-recognized, undiscussed or addressed without care, I was moved by the audacity and vulnerability Destiny brings to The End of the World… reminding us that our humanity, our capacity to hold emotions, feelings, fears and concerns are what makes up a healthy, forgiving and empathy-led community, society and culture. She reminds us that Black women are not monolithic, that we contain multitudes. She breaks stereotypes of staying silent and carrying the torch of Black women’s strength by boldly releasing, writing and sharing her perspective with the world. No longer allowing to go unseen.

Constance: How long have you been sitting with this work? What led you to the Hollywood Fringe Festival and why now?

Destiny: Hmm, this question is interesting for me because there are aspects of this work I’ve been sitting with for a long time. I’ve wanted to do a solo show for years, but had no idea what it would be about. The themes around mental health, existentialism and the loneliness of trying to connect in a disconnected world had been with me for a while, showing up again and again through different events in my life. A couple of years ago, I performed a seven-minute spoken-word piece at an open mic at Willie Agee Playhouse in Inglewood titled the Token Black Girl. It came out of a sudden awareness (almost a punch to the gut) of how subtle and constant the dehumanization of Black women is, and how little I’d actually let myself register it in my life.

That newfound awareness made me bitter and heartbroken, and I still haven’t fully gotten over it. After sharing that spoken-word piece and getting a strong response, people told me I should turn it into a one-woman show, and so I eventually did. Black women’s pain gets minimized so consistently that depression isn’t even on the table as a possibility for us. So I built a character who refuses that silence. She’s going to do the unthinkable, and she’s going to be loud about it. I wanted Hollywood Fringe first because it’s my backyard. I’ve been attending for years, and before I ran in Edinburgh, I wanted my own community’s eyes on it first.

Constance: Now, you’ve given the work away and it’s out there. How does that feel?

Destiny: It feels like it’s no longer just my own. I set out to tell my story, to be heard, to feel seen through art. And along the way, others have felt seen, too, and started sharing their own stories back. It’s humbling. It’s a reminder that whatever sits and persists in your heart isn’t just for you. It’s there, begging to be let out, because someone else needs it. That’s humbling, and it makes me want to make more.

Constance: What are you enjoying most as you create your show?

Destiny: I’m enjoying laughing and playing with the audience. I’m finally at a point where I feel more dropped into this role, into Desiree’s journey, which has let me really listen to and move with the audience. So every show has been different. I’m finally out of my head and can play.

Constance: What has been the most surprising discovery?

Destiny: I’ve been most surprised by how connected people are to little nuances in the story that I thought were so weird or so specific to me, that I almost didn’t put them in. I’m always shocked at how connected people feel to those exact moments.

Constance: What’s been your biggest challenge in terms of the Fringe?

Carmen: The biggest challenge, and I think a lot of other indie creators can relate to this, is having a vision much bigger than your pockets. I dream big, and I care so much about the integrity of the story, but you have such limited time and space to make everything the way you want it to be. I hated having to cut things that I felt would’ve made the show stronger, but cutting things has only made me get clearer and more specific about the experience I want my audience to have with the story.

Constance: What do you hope audience members take away from your show?

Destiny: I hope audiences get offline and look people in the eye. I’m begging us not to lose our humanity to social media and AI. It’s not real. These moments in the theater are real. The moments in nature, at the beach, are real. Everyone’s right and wrong about everything, but who we are as people extends beyond our 150-characters online. If we actually slowed down and sat with one another, and genuinely held space for one another, we’d feel less alone. (If we don’t learn to be human first, AI will do it for us…and take over our booooooddiiiiieeeeesssss :P)

Constance: How does spoken word help in telling the show’s story?

Destiny: I view spoken word in this show almost like a musical number. Sometimes we don’t have the perfect words to say, but a song always seems to do the trick. Music and rhythm can take something complex and full of nuance and help it land somewhere palatable, somewhere memorable. The spoken word isn’t just a peek into Desiree’s inner world; it also marks the significant milestones in her journey.

Constance: It’s not easy being a Black woman in any decade, but it sure is a privilege. How has letting go of the strong Black women trope freed you as an artist and woman?

Destiny: Such a good question, because I don’t know if I’ve fully let it go yet. But I’m learning to free myself more and more and allowing myself to be broken and vulnerable, imperfect. Allowing myself to not always work twice as hard, to not care about a trope that minimizes my humanity, just because I’m upset. The more I let go of caring how the world perceives me, the more I’m able to fully connect to myself. And connection to self gives us space for true healing. In this show, Desiree gets to be everything that Black women “shouldn’t be”: depressed, joyful, angry, scared, rude, bratty, funny, and hopeful.

Constance: What joy did you discover when creating your show?

Destiny: The joy I discovered was getting to play and be funny. Most people see me do drama, and a lot of my life I’ve had to be serious and responsible—but I have a dry, goofy side that only a few people get to see. It’s great to expose that part of me in an environment that’s safe, that’s my own, and in my own voice. I don’t often see my type of humor represented in Black characters, so there’s real joy in getting to be what I don’t usually get to be or see.

Constance: What has it cost you to bring The End of the World to life?

Destiny: It has cost me so much sleep! Lol.

Constance: What experience influenced this new work?

Destiny: This story is very personal to me. When I sat down to reflect on what my show should be about, I thought about major turning points in my life that I believe have contributed to who I am as a person. Two moments kept coming to mind in conjunction with each other, in parallel, even though they were fifteen years apart: the day my stepdad attempted suicide in front of my family and me, and one of the lowest moments of my adult life, during the lockdown in 2020.

I was fifteen when my stepdad attempted suicide, and that was the worst day of my life at the time. My family and I were never the same since. Everything I thought was true about the world, my life, and my parents was shattered. I have clear distinctions in who each of my siblings and my mom was before and after that moment. It was my own end of the world, so to speak. Everyone can relate to a moment in their life when their innocence was destroyed, when the world showed you its ugliest parts and broke your faith, when you no longer felt the illusion of safety. Trauma changes all of us, and it can be heartbreaking to recognize that in yourself. There are motifs in the show that allude to that feeling of loss of innocence.

Then in 2020, I had a second version of this. I was so brokenhearted by friends, family and humanity as a whole that it made me feel cold and bitter, and it took so much to get “me” back. But I’m grateful for experiencing both sides of the spectrum: such hope and faith in humanity, to such disdain for it and resentment toward God. The grace of God and the beauty in humanity have outweighed the bad in the end, and I can finally heal from that heartbreak. It’s an ongoing and ever-evolving process, which is what I hope also lands in the show.

For info and tickets visit https://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/13431