The Day I Imaginatively Sat Down with Sidney Poitier: an imaginary conversation, a conversation so vivid, you’ll swear that you were in the room with us.

Some conversations are planned, others come about because of luck, and then there are those that reside within you long before seeing the light of day. This is one of the latter.

Today, I am welcoming you into a moment that I have I've imagined for years.

My one-on-one interview with Sidney Poitier — actor, icon, trailblazer; a man whose being was like a masterclass in dignity.

You may want to lean in. Join me.

First Question: “How does a man stay that elegant… all the time?”

I didn’t warm up.

I went straight to the core of my curiosity.

He smiled — a slow, knowing smile that could make a thunderstorm reconsider its behavior.

“Elegance,” he said, “is simply choosing grace even when the room offers none.”

I nodded like I’d believed this since childhood.

In reality, I had believed this for about ten seconds subsequent to his saying it.

“How did you protect your integrity in an industry that didn’t protect it for you?”

He paused — intentionally, thoughtfully — like someone selecting the perfect words from a very personal library.

“I knew who I was before I walked in. The world can’t take from you what you don’t give it.”

The room felt like it tilted toward him.

Even the air was listening.

Yes… I asked about that famous slap.

From In the Heat of the Night.

The one that shook America.

“Did you know that that moment would become legendary?” I asked.

He lifted one eyebrow — the kind of eyebrow raise that could win its own Oscar.

“Let’s just say I suspected it might… get a reaction.”

My reaction?

Nearly applauding mid-interview.

“How did you stay so grounded, so calm, so unshakeable?”

I asked, hoping that he would reveal some hidden life hack.

“Stillness,” he said.

“If you cannot hear your own thoughts, you cannot hear your mission. The world gets loud. You must learn to get quieter.”

The silence and stillness that followed was so powerful that my coffee actually stopped steaming. It didn’t want to interrupt the moment.

Meanwhile, I tried to look enlightened.

But inside, my brain was doing an interpretive dance.

“What do you believe you were built for?”

He looked upward slightly — not dramatically, but like he could see his life story written on the ceiling.

“To widen the doorway.

Someone widened it for me.

My job was to leave it wider for those that followed.

That’s the kind of answer you don’t just hear — you feel.

“What do you wish people learned sooner in life?”

He leaned back, amused.

“Don’t take yourself too seriously.

Laugh more.

Dance badly.

Choose joy on purpose.

And never apologize for it.”

Suddenly my entire life's philosophy was under review.

“How do you hope people remember you?”

Not the awards.

Not the fame.

Not even the historic firsts.

Just him.

“I hope they remember that I tried to be a good man,” he said.

“Everything else is applause.”

It was the quietest, strongest mic drop that I’ve ever experienced— real or imagined.

Final Thoughts

Some heroes never sit across from us.

But their impact does.

Sidney Poitier taught a generation — and still teaches us — how to walk with presence, purpose, humour, and courage.

Should he be here today, I believe he’d close with this:

“Walk tall. Walk true.

And leave the doorway wider than you found it.”

So here’s to walking.

Here’s to widening.

And here’s to the conversations that shape us, even if they only happen in the beautiful space of imagination.

With love,

Jackie