Pegasus Theatre Chicago and director ILesa Duncan are the forces behind the latest revival of playwright Shay Youngblood’s Shakin’ the Mess Outta Misery. The production follows “Daughter,” who returns home to eulogize the last of the women who raised her in ‘60s Georgia.
One of the performers featured in Misery is queer actress and Chicagoan Justice Ford, who actually takes on two roles. Ford recently talked with Windy City Times about everything from the roots of her love of acting to LGBTQ+ representation to her dream co-stars.
Note: This conversation was edited for clarity and length.
Windy City Times: You actually grew up on Chicago’s South Side. Obviously, Chicago has quite the theater scene. How did you become immersed in it?
Justice Ford: Yes, Chicago has quite the scene. So, I always knew the stage was my place. As a kid, I loved movies and music, and my parents took me to see plays. My mom went to Columbia College for dance before she got pregnant with my brother; my dad was a singer and truly has the gift of gab.
So I graduated from Robert Healy Elementary School, which is in Bridgeport—one of the more segregated areas on the South Side. But it had this thriving arts program called The Ensemble; we’d do concerts and full mainstage productions. By the time I graduated eighth grade, I had three solid productions under my belt. I then applied for ChiArts [The Chicago High School for the Arts], which is different from the Chicago Academy for the Arts, which has been around forever.
At this point, I had to figure out which high school I was going to—and I was enrolled at Phoenix [STEM] Military Academy. I had already had my first drill and the sergeants already really loved me. So the principal at Healy called ChiArts to get me another audition (although I later found out that my mother made that principal call). There was a musical-theater program at ChiArts that was just starting, and I auditioned on a Saturday—with school starting on Monday. Sunday, I got a call that I got in.
I was part of ChiArts’s first graduating class. Herbie Hancock was the speaker—and he played with our jazz combo. It’s still one of my core memories from that day. It was a true dream. ChiArts was brutal, though; it was 8 a.m.-5 p.m. every day. Fortunately, I just lived two blocks away, although I was still late every day. [Both laugh.] I was in every mainstage production, both theater and musical theater. I was a co-founder of the Black Student Union and was in the creative writing club. I was everywhere.
WCT: So after school, what was the first theatrical production you were in?
JF: After high school, I really wanted to go to college for theater—but that didn’t happen. I just went into the workforce, but one of my ChiArts teachers would take me to plays every weekend to keep my love for theater alive. She actually put me in my first production, which was a mash-up of Oklahoma! and The Vagina Monologues. It was hilarious—and it was inside a church. My mother came to see it, even though she was shaky about it being in a church.
WCT: Why is it important for you to be a part of Shakin’ the Mess Outta Misery?
JF: I love this play so much. Shay Youngblood passed away last year and I feel like her work, as a queer Black playwright, deserves to be amplified—and I feel that we’re doing that. This is a revival, as they did a production of this show in 2017, so it feels like a passing of the baton. We have the original Big Mama in Felicia McNeal, and to be in a room with Black women of all ages and backgrounds bridges the generation gap. And it reminds us that community has to be in the forefront of everything we do, because it is so vital.
WCT: How did you become part of this?
JF: Shout out to my boy, Shawn Wallace, who’s the music director. He told me he was going to be the music director for this show and he really wanted me to audition. I auditioned and—boom!—here I am.
WCT: And regarding the auditioning process—which is like applying for any job, really—I imagine you have to have a strong backbone.
JF: I would definitely say so. I actually had a huge audition on opening nigh, although I expected it to be small; there were, like, 30 people in the room. I did my Maggie monologue, which they loved; it’s such a great piece to introduce people to me. But, yes, you have to have a strong backbone. Some auditions are pretty quiet; you say hello and no one greets you back. Others are more playful and interactive.
WCT: And you play two roles.

JF: Yes. I play Maggie in the first act. She’s a part-time blues singer and part-time hustler. Her role in this play is to teach Daughter the real talk on love—it’s cute and free, but there are hardships that come with being vulnerable and putting yourself out there. Then, I play Miss Rosa, who’s the funeral director, who knows everyone’s business and who has a very strong intuition; her role is to remind Daughter to connect her earthly and ancestral experiences, and to honor her ancestors.
WCT: I’m glad you clarified these roles. I looked at various reviews of this production and saw Maggie described as a call girl as well as a hustler. [Ford reacts with surprise.]
JF: Well, she is doing whatever it takes to survive. The thing that struck me the most about her is that she seems to not have any guidance; she seems to have raised herself—and that’s a tall task for a young Black woman in the South. Everybody else in the show is pretty much a domestic engineer. Maggie has decided, “I’m not going to clean up after these white people. I’m going to pull myself up by my bootstraps in my own way. If I have to get on a corner and do a little flirtin’, I’ll do that. If that means I have to trick an old woman out of her money, I’ll do that. I’ll sing at a club, part-time.” It’s the American way, unfortunately—especially for Black women. We have to have 10 different hustles. I really connect with her.
WCT: So Maggie would be that woman I once saw in a grocery store with a full-length mink coat and a LINK card?
JF: Yes! That would absolutely be her. And Justice might do that, too. [Interviewer laughs.]
WCT: I came across a quote that you said: “Art saves lives.”
JF: That is my personal philosophy. I was raised by a single mom; my father bounced around my life a lot. My mom worked tooth and nail to make sure we had everything we needed, so the odds were stacked against me. People used to tell my mom, “You need to watch out for her”—talking about me. I started being involved early but I beat the odds—and I attribute that to the arts. Being able to go on stage and escape whatever I was dealing with at home or at school—for however long—was my therapy, my saving grace.
I’m a teaching artist now, although I’m currently taking a sabbatical. And I teach that philosophy. It’s not all about the techniques; it’s about teaching you how to be vulnerable and let your guard down enough to let this character in. That, to me, is what saved my life so that’s what I pushed for.
WCT: I was wondering if you talk about why queer representation matters.
JF: Wooo! So I’ll preface this by saying I’m a “2022 lesbian”—I came out very late. Lots of people in my personal life knew that I dabbled with men and women, but my mom had no clue. When I finally told her, it was remarkable to see that with just the words “I’m gay,” she was able to unleash this unwavering support that would’ve been trapped if I hadn’t come out. That, in itself, is what I think queer artists do day after day—to make this world more inclusive and to teach people to be good and kind, and not just be tolerant. Also, it showcases how much beauty and value is in our community. I’m so grateful to be a part of it, truly.
WCT: In Justice Ford’s world, if you could act with any three actors, who would they be?
JF: This is a hard question. I would definitely put Viola Davis on this list as well as Audra McDonald—who I met while I was in high school—and Rashidra Scott, who’s currently in Sunset Blvd. She is an actress based out of NYC; I met her when I was a sophomore in high school while doing this summer apprenticeship and she was in Sister Act back then. I would love to share the stage with them.
WCT: Maybe you could take this production to Broadway and act with the three of them.
JF: Whoo—that would be a powerhouse right there.
Pegasus Theatre Chicago’s Shakin’ the Mess Outta Misery is running at the Chicago Dramatists’ Russ Tutterow Theatre, 798 N. Aberdeen St., through June 15. Tickets are $15-$35 and can be purchased at this link.

