Devin Oktar Yalkin for The New York Times
Sandra Oh Knows What's Great About Middle Age
During the Los Angeles fires in January, the actor Sandra Oh, like many of her neighbors, had to make a decision: What would she pack in her car if she had to evacuate? Her first thoughts were about her journals. “There’s a lot of them,” she told me when we spoke last month onstage at the Tribeca Festival, “and I thought: I can’t take them all! Do I take the first ones? Do I take the past 10 years? It just makes you think, What are the things that are very, very important to you?”
Oh has kept diaries since she was a young girl growing up as the daughter of Korean immigrants in Canada. She wrote about her big feelings as a little kid, the discrimination she faced when she landed in Hollywood in her early 20s, the ups and downs of her 10 years playing Dr. Cristina Yang on “Grey’s Anatomy” and her thoughts around her more recent roles, like the intelligence agent Eve Polastri in “Killing Eve.” The diaries, she once wrote, are a place where she is “putting together all the clues of my life.”
That life has been a trailblazing one. None of the characters Oh is most famous for were originally written for an Asian actor, including her upcoming stint as Olivia in Shakespeare in the Park’s “Twelfth Night, ” which opens in August in New York City. Now in her 50s, she is reflecting on what it took to get where she is and how she’s still growing in this “ rich middle” of her life.
It is rare to be able to see a person processing the events in her life even as they are still happening. So it was wonderful when, onstage at Tribeca, Oh read from her diaries for the first time publicly. Then we spoke again, this time not in front of an audience.
We’re going to be reading from some of your journals. I want to start with an excerpt from a momentous day in your career: your last day on “Grey’s Anatomy,” which you were on for 10 seasons. Ten seasons. It was amazing.
April 25th, 2014. Yesterday was my very last day of work on Grey’s Anatomy. It was joyous. I waited for my call time. I felt excited and jumpy to get to work. I had my hug from Laura and my first-last makeup from Norm. Desiree and I danced to Michael Jackson in the trailer. It was fun. I passed everything out and wrote some more cards. Grabbed a lousy lunch at the screening. Took lots of pictures. Lots of hugs. Then after lunch they surprised me with the ceremony-thingy for me. Tony and Joan — cake sheet and cider. Very lousy and cheap and wonderful.
I’m interested in you saying that it was joyous. This was the end of the biggest thing in your career. Why were you so happy? I’m still figuring out what that decade of my life was. Not everyone gets to know that they’re leaving a show. I was in a very, very fortuitous position, and I took advantage of it fully, meaning that I wanted to leave well. And I think that for me, one of the proudest things that I have in my life is how I left the show. I was as conscious as possible with all the crew members and actually even with the public. It was basically to help people say goodbye as I was saying goodbye.
You gave an interview this year where you said there’s a chance you’d go back. What would it take? Let me redefine that for a second. What I have noticed — this is 10 years out from leaving the show — is the deep appreciation that I have for the people who appreciate Cristina, and it is that love that has made me go, Oh, the fans really, really, really want it. And for the first time, that’s when I started opening up the idea. But I think to really be true to the people who enjoy your work, you have to be true to yourself. So at this point, I don’t think so.
OK. I want to go back to your roots. You grew up in Canada; your parents moved there from Korea. Your mom was a biochemist. Your dad was a businessman. Clearly both very driven people. How did they influence some of your early ambition? I think that’s a part of when you grow up a child of immigrants. You see your parents work so hard. You know what you have, and you know what you don’t have. And then you can also see what you want in your life and realize that you cannot bother people for that. You’ve got to go do it yourself.
Sandra Oh as a child with her brother in Ottawa.
You’ve described yourself as a very emotional child, and you brought another diary entry that speaks to that. Yes, this is my very first entry, and I just want to actually prompt it with: Don’t worry.
Sunday, the 3rd of October, 1982. Dear Ary — like diary — I hate myself. That’s all. Oh yeah, I also think I’ll commit suicide. Spelled S-U-C-I-C-I-D-E. Nothing is worth living for. I’m no good at anything. I’m never happy anymore. I try so hard but I never succeed. Spelled S-U-C-C-I-D-E. Mom and Dad always laugh at me when I try, I do stupid mistakes, Mom always yells at me. I have no self confidence. I don’t believe in myself. I can’t do anything. Someday I’ll run real far, so far that no one will ever find me. I have a lot of thoughts but I can’t write them all down. I hate myself.
Monday, the 4th of October. A great day!
I turned out OK. [Laughs.]
When you were revisiting this, were you surprised? I just have so much compassion for that young person. I’m so pleased with myself that at 11, with so much feeling, I unconsciously found some place to regulate myself, which was writing. I remember my mom didn’t like it, because I would always be writing, and she knew it was about her. It was like, “What are you always writing?” That has just been a receptacle that started out as an unconscious place to feel safe but eventually helped me figure out who I am.
Did you know that you needed to have artistic expression when you were a kid? Yes, I think I knew it real young. I loved performing, and I loved dancing. I started ballet when I was 4, and I loved it. I just had so much feeling. It was very hard to manage. I really remember my mom with this. She would just let it all happen, just let it run its course. I think it was a natural thing that I found an avenue to be able to express that, because I just had so much of it inside.
Let’s talk about your work today. You’re going to be in Shakespeare in the Park in New York, in one of my favorite Shakespeare plays, “Twelfth Night.” I played Maria in high school, you’ll be happy to know. That’s fantastic.
This one is very starry. It has you, Lupita Nyong’o, Peter Dinklage. How is rehearsal going? I started learning this very early because it’s just a completely different language. And I’m also finding, deep into my midlife, that the way that I learn things now and the way that I work is totally different. It doesn’t stay in my head. It needs to enter my body. I started learning these lines probably in February. Very slow. I’m slow. And it’s just been a joy. When you have time to really play with and wonder what’s underneath these words — it’s been joyous.
A lot of Shakespeare is up to the actor’s interpretation, so what are you thinking about for Olivia? Who is she? Oh, I don’t know. It’s impossible to know what you’re going to do without the other person. That’s the thing about theater, right? When you’re on film — I don’t know how many times I’ve acted to a piece of tape, because that’s just what it is — you can’t see the angle, you can’t see the person, so you’re acting to a piece of tape on a tennis ball. But the theater is all about reacting to what you’re saying and the questions that you’re asking me, so I don’t know how it’s going to be. And I don’t want to settle into anything before I know how Lupita’s going to say something.
I’m thinking of other female characters that you’ve played that are so iconic. The through line, if you think about Cristina and you think about Eve and now Olivia, is that a lot of these roles are about relationships with other women. Clearly you’re drawn to that. I don’t choose it for that, but, well, you’re right. [Laughs] I think also for me, the life of a woman — her full self, our full selves, the fullness and the wholeness of our psyche — I’m always interested in that. I’m always wanting to play in that field, not only for myself but just for us to see it. A lot of the characters I’ve played are not in service of the husband or the hero man. I’m never cast in that, by the way, and I was always so hurt by that, because it’s like: I want to get parts. I want to get parts in big things. And blah blah blah. But really, sometimes those characters are not full-fleshed characters and full-fleshed women.
You’ve brought up something interesting, which is the parts that you have been cast in and the parts you haven’t. I want to ask you here to read from a moment in your life when you encountered real discrimination in Hollywood. You’d just arrived from Canada and were looking for representation, and you took a meeting with a big agent.
August 1st, 1995. The pain’s the same and overwhelming and you try not to take it so personally or cosmically, but you feel it. Nothing she could think of to send me out on? Nothing? There’s nothing there for me? Why am I here? What do I have to do to make a place for me in this world? She goes, “people aren’t open.” Basically, “there are no parts for you because you’re Asian, so you’re better off getting famous in Canada and living there. You need tape and a movie with that.” I have all that. Now what do I do? And then, where is the art? Through all this [expletive], putting on makeup and armor to make it through the day and where is the work? And I can feel myself starving, starving for the work. Yes, it’s a new place. Yes, it’s hard, but thinking, I’ve got to do this. Do what, San? Do what? So much further to go. Is this what it is to be an artist? To try and be one? I feel uncomfortable and would never call myself one confidently. Artist. Actor, yeah, but … Artist? There’s something greater in that, something to do with time, with skill with — I want to be one.
What was that like? You know, that experience of meeting that agent and being told a bunch of stuff — it has taken me a long time to untangle that. It’s taken me a very, very long time. The saving grace I think for me was that question or that desire: I want to be an artist. What am I supposed to do? Because I think, ultimately, that’s how I figured it out. I followed that. I didn’t follow what that lady said. I followed the question that I think that I’ve always had or that drive that was there to say, What am I supposed to do? It doesn’t feel like what she just said. I know I’m here for something; I don’t know what. I think that so much of who I’ve become stems from that entry.
Oh in the second season of “Grey’s Anatomy.”Credit...Richard Cartwright/Disney General Entertainment Content, via Getty Images
What helped you say: That’s not me. I won’t internalize that. But I did. I think I did internalize that profoundly. Not to be too much of a downer, but there is a lot of internalized hatred, racism, sexism. This is the great thing about hitting midlife. I can’t be the only one that it takes this long to try and untangle.
You’re now in your 50s. How are you settling into that? It’s great. Don’t let anyone fool you. It’s tougher on my body. It’s tougher on my mind in certain ways. But it is great, because I feel balanced enough to really start digging into very important questions. When you realize that it is not up to anyone else to free you, it’s up to yourself. So whether you have body issues, things about your past, how you grew up, your trauma — those are the things that now you have some space and are able to handle grappling with. But my joints hurt.
I want to end with your journal. You chose something that you wrote in the last few weeks. I think I write a little differently now. It’s rarely just a straight journal entry. It’s much more poetic, and there are images and drawings and scribbles. But I’ll share this.
May 21st, 2025. I know I’m jumping all around with my journals and I’m not sure why that matters much seeing that I’m probably not going to get around to reading all this, like putting together all the clues of my life or figuring out myself as an artist. I think somewhere, maybe always, I wanted a record so that some time in the future, I could or someone else could figure out who I am or was, have one fell swoop to see all the patterns: where I grew, how I didn’t, what was going on.
Sandra and I spoke again several days later.
Since we spoke, you gave a commencement speech at Dartmouth. I’ve got to tell you, the commencement speech was very stressful for me.
Why was it stressful? It’s the call to speak to young people, especially at this moment. When Shonda [Rhimes] presented the offer to me — it was actually last year, at the end of September ’24. So many things have changed since September ’24. And as things kept on ramping up, the depth of where I felt like I had to go to be able to speak honestly to this group of graduates became much more serious. I was nervous, but I think this is my tendency — to put a lot of pressure on myself to be able to really deliver something that will hopefully be useful to them.
Oh giving the commencement speech at Dartmouth in June. Credit...Katie Lenhart/Dartmouth
In your speech, you did nod to this political moment. You said: “What if I say the wrong thing? What if I were to talk about diversity? Equity? OK, OK. … What if I changed the words? Like ‘including diverse equalness.’ Or ‘diverting equitable inclusivity.’ Would that still be bad? Could I get deported? See, that should be a bad joke, and it is. But it’s not.” What it made me think about was that you’ve said before that part of the reason that you were initially cast in roles early in your career in Canada was because the government there had mandates for multiculturalism. And I was wondering what mandates for inclusion have done for you personally? Huge! Are you kidding me? And because I am an Asian woman, and I also speak French, oh, my gosh. I ticked off so many boxes. It’s a double-edged sword because I couldn’t move so high up the ladder, because the structure of casting and racism is entrenched. But the way that Canada is set up, there is more inclusion. There’s more understanding that people have come from someplace else to this country and that this country was taken from our Indigenous people and First Nations people. And during that time, it wasn’t like I didn’t know it, and that itself causes things that you have to figure out as someone who benefits from D.E.I. But it gave me a foot in the door, and it also gave me a lot of experience.
Through your own experience, I’m wondering what you think we might have lost with this push against D.E.I. And then, because you talked about that double-edged sword, might there be gains because we are re-examining how we deal with this very persistent problem of structural racism? This is such a huge question. I want to start at the beginning of your question, which is, What is lost? For me, what is lost is the real beginning of a recognition that I thought was happening in the past five to seven years. That there was a recognition that racism actually exists, and it’s a structural issue. From my point of view, it is not a blame game. It just is. But it’s trying to come to a truthful or an agreed-upon reality in the larger picture of what we know. Life is not fair. And so the words “diversity,” “equity” and “inclusion” are good things. To be awake is a good thing. Those are words that I take to heart and that have now been co-opted and vilified. It’s heartbreaking to me, because what’s being lost or what’s being dismantled is a recognition that life is not fair. So that’s the thing that is really painful.
We ended our first interview with one of your journal entries, and there’s a line in there I want to come back to. You wrote that you thought maybe the journals could be “one fell swoop to see all the patterns, where I grew and how I didn’t.” Where do you feel like you still need to grow? Lulu, I want to ask you the same question, because I feel like we are at very similar points in our life — you know, women who are deep into this very rich middle part of your life. And I really appreciate this time, because I also think that only now do you have enough strength and hopefully curiosity to go into the places of asking the question. Why did I do that? Who has been steering the ship? Because now on this back half of my life, I’m the captain of the ship. I am. Me. Now I am really working with the internalization of my own issues, which, my god, we all have. What it is to live in a patriarchal society. What it is to live as a person of color in a predominantly white society. How that has made me who I am now. And what I need to do to free myself from it as much as I can for the rest of my life.