The Joy Of Kendrick

The actor and activist is a serious guy. He speaks with ease about liberation from police violence and the scourge of capitalism. But he also knows how to act a damn fool sometimes.

- Kelly Stout

It’s an early winter evening in Manhattan, and Kendrick Sampson and I are settling into a quiet if antiseptic corner of the James hotel lobby. Despite working on a single hour of sleep, Sampson (who turned 34 last month) manages to look warm and cheerful in a pair of black sweats and a grey mask. Then just as we’ve dispensed with the small talk and are on the verge of getting to the good stuff, a white woman in a silver dress begins setting up shop not six metres from us. A lounge singer! She turns the volume up and warbles that a scrub is a guy that can’t get no love from me. Blessedly, when Sampson talks, it’s impossible not to listen.

You may know him from How to Get Away with Murder, The Vampire Diaries or, most recently, as the perpetually-trying-to-improve-himself Nathan on Insecure. Maybe you’ve heard about BLD PWR, an organisation he co-founded that wants to train a new generation of entertainers and athletes to liberate communities from police violence, racism, structural inequality, the oppression of sexism, transphobia, capitalist violence and the places where those intersect. Even if none of this rings a bell, you probably remember when, in 2020, cops shot him seven times with rubber bullets at a protest over the police killing of George Floyd.