“I think what you’re seeing,” Adjani Salmon tells VICE over Zoom, “is stronger writers. I think we’re all just becoming better writers. And more confident, as well. Confidence is a massive thing in writing.” The BAFTA-winning co-creator, writer and star of Dreaming Whilst Black is reflecting on the show’s development, which has gone from an acclaimed 2018 web series about a young filmmaker called Kwabena navigating the indignities of work in a racist industry, to a full series commissioned by the BBC in 2021 and co-produced by A24. Its second series arrives on BBC Three this week. We find Kwabs at the helm of a regency drama, with his Uncle Claude’s admonishment for selling out at the end of series 1 still ringing in his ears. His mate Amy is working for a new, superficially progressive production company, but is regularly overlooked for a white girl cosplaying with terrible braids and even worse ideas. Meanwhile, new parents Funmi and Maurice continue to annoy each other in the way that only couples truly in love can, battling extortionate nursery fees and the allure of sleep and takeaways on date night. There’s an even greater assuredness to Dreaming Whilst Black this time round, with jokes that land big and loud, and a cast of characters that feel lived in. It’s written with the attention and care of a love letter to your sweet one.VICE caught up with Adjani to talk about the show’s setting, Kwabena’s inner voice, why you can’t catch a whine to Giggs, and more.VICE: I’m from Edmonton, in North London, where much of Dreaming Whilst Black is set. The ends doesn’t get much shine. So, why Edmonton?Adjani: I’m from Jamaica but my aunts and cousins grew up in Edmonton! It’s an area I’m historically from. We could’ve set the show in the stereotypical places: Peckham, Hackney, Brixton. Even Tottenham. But I was like, ‘Nah, darg! Edmonton doesn’t get no love ‘pon the screen.’ So we set the ting on ends, innit. That’s why Kwabena titled his short film The Nine [a reference to Edmonton’s post code].Edmonton’s Caribbean community is very deep rooted, and the elders in the show like Uncle Claude remind me of so many men I knew growing up. Series 1 ends with Claude admonishing Kwabena for, what he perceives, is selling out. How does that affect Kwabena moving into series 2?Yeah, his uncle tells him he sold out his family for “the white man praise,” for industry acceptance. That hurts Kwabena, because it wasn’t his intention. And he’s always intended to do the right thing. He carries that with him into series 2, where even though he’s now getting opportunities because of this film, he doesn’t want to make the same mistake. He’s trying to avoid exploitation at all costs. But that obviously has its own consequences.You can’t help but long for Kwabena’s inner voice to come to the surface in series 1. In series 2, he seems to achieve that at moments in his professional life. But in his personal life, he still struggles. Why is that?He always bats between confidence and fear, courage and fear. Now we see him step out in the professional world a bit more. He’s a director, he’s more confident because he has authority. He’s not the boss, but he’s a lot of people’s boss. Whereas in his personal life, things are pretty much still the same. He has the same relationships with his elder family members, he still has the same relationship with Vanessa. When someone feels empowered, they exercise it. And I guess professionally he’s been given that power, he feels able to speak up just a bit more. Whereas personally, all the stakes are still the same so he doesn’t quite feel as confident. Image: BBC/Big Deal FilmsYou’ve lived with the character for a long time now. How different is the Kwabena you initially dreamt up for the web series to the one we see on screen now?I think the first iteration of the character was probably just a variation of myself, that we tweaked enough so it could be funnier. Now, Kwabena feels like a whole person, who I watch and I’m like, ‘Why are you doing that?’ When I watch the show now, I don’t see myself at all. I feel connected because I play him, but not connected to me personally anymore. But we started out in a very similar place.When you spoke to VICE back in 2021, you spoke about the intention of not just writing for the Black community, but to the Black community. As the show has grown, how do you, as a team of writers, hold onto that intention? Does it become easier, or throw up more challenges?It requires work, and it requires care. And yes, care sometimes requires more work. But that’s something you have to be intentional about. We want our community to watch our show, but we also want our community to be cared for. I’d feel the same way if I was writing something about my child, you know? It’s harder to do it intentionally and with love, but I care about them so I will always put in that extra effort. As the show gets bigger, the demands get greater, for better humor, for higher stakes, it would be easier to fall into tired, simpler narratives that don’t require care. But that extra care is worth it. I think that’s why audiences responded to series 1 in that way. It’s so interesting I said that in 2021, because the show could’ve come out and everyone said, ‘This is shit!’ But the fact audiences loved it is, in part, because they felt the care. And I think we’ve put more love into series 2, to all the characters, the generation above Kwabena, the women characters. We tried to not treat any characters, big or small, as props or plot conveniences. We tried to make them all feel whole.Image: BBC/Big Deal FilmsThe show’s portrayal of Black women is definitely a place where that care and intention shines through. How do you make sure that aspect is executed properly?I think every writer should think about their blindspots. I’m a Black man, so we covered our blindspots by hiring Black women. Not just one, but multiple. In positions of power. Our script editor is a Black woman. Two of the four writers on the show are Black women. Our producer is a Black woman. Our editor’s assistant is a Black woman. We watched an episode and she came in and was like, ‘Yo, you need to change that take.’ I was like, ‘Why? The performance is fine.’ She said, ‘No! Her wig line is showing.’ She paused the take, and if you really looked, you could see it. Obviously, I’m not looking for that. I was just watching the performance. But she noticed that. If she wasn’t there, we wouldn’t have seen it. The show would’ve come out. And Twitter would’ve popped off about how we had a Black girl with her lace front just out like that. I literally would not have known. You have to cover your blindspots, no matter what they are, to make sure the thing you’re trying to do is being done properly, and is being vetted by people who it actually impacts.And to finish, having seen series 2, I wanted to ask an especially heavy question: Why can’t you catch a whine to Giggs?[Laughs] Because lyrically it just doesn’t make sense! And we had this debate because we wrote the line, and was like, ‘Right, what’s the tune?’ We chose “Look What the Cat Dragged In” because sonically it’s a bop! But realistically, you’re only whining to this song if you’re really pressed [desperate]. Not because the song denotes it. The song does not dictate you do so. Man dem should just relax until that segment comes. The whining segment will come. Stop being so excited.Dreaming Whilst Black series 2 launches at 22.10 on Thursday October 9 on BBC Three & BBC iPlayer. All episodes will be available as a boxset on BBC iPlayer and you can catch up on series 1 now.@RKazandjianThe post Still Dreaming Whilst Black appeared first on VICE.