It was also her blog and podcast, Blaria (as in, the black “Daria,” MTV’s nihilistic but beloved teenage cartoon heroine), which she began in 2012, and her online writing for Glamour that helped Robinson capture an audience. Readers were absorbed by her insightful and quippy takes on pop culture and feminist politics, laying the groundwork for her breakthrough WNYC podcasts, “2 Dope Queens” and “Sooo Many White Guys”—the latter produced by Ilana Glazer of “Broad City”—and the runaway success of her first book, You Can’t Touch My Hair: And Other Things I Still Have to Explain, published in 2016. Emerging at a watershed moment for modern-day black creatives in a pre-Trump era, Robinson’s podcasts and book were entrants into an emerging canon of thought on the intersection of pop culture and race. Think: Beyoncé’s Lemonade, Solange’s A Seat At The Table, Issa Rae’s “Insecure,” Barry Jenkins’s Moonlight, and so on. Public discourse on the politics around touching black women’s hair, or the lack of roles for black performers, was being prioritized. Quickly, You Can’t Touch My Hair sent ripples through the upper echelons of entertainment, charming the likes of Oprah and Bono (two of Robinson’s idols), and morphing the artist into a lodestar for the change afoot in Hollywood and beyond.

But as impressive as Robinson’s ascent has been, it hasn’t come easy, which she unpacks in Everything’s Trash. On her way to the top as a young creative in New York, Robinson confronted not only industry rejection, but financial woes, body issues, and dating foibles. The essays offer startlingly honest accounts of grappling with each trial, like her admission of racking up $19,000 of credit card debt and even, at one point, facing eviction. “If you’re living in New York and you want to pursue entertainment, it’s different than living in New York and working on Wall Street. It’s different than living in New York and being a teacher,” she explains. Robinson, however, was determined to broach the subject of money with glowing, uproarious candor, especially considering how it is so often a topic shrouded in misrepresentation and, ultimately, shame. As she details in the book, she refused to tell her family about her debt, and, instead, worked it off in two years. “I think if everyone were just a little more honest about money, A) everyone would feel less stressed out. B) expectations would lower. And C) we could actually talk about how to be good with money.”

Robinson’s outspokenness doesn’t stop there. Full of compassion and patience, the performer and proud intersectional feminist also takes on the racial blind spot of the current-day women’s movement, which has left many women of color and queer women frustrated by and skeptical of so-called feminist initiatives. As she details in Everything’s Trash, after the 2017 Women’s March, Robinson was left feeling conflicted about her white sistren in attendance who were otherwise absent from the conversations around the political disenfranchisement of black and brown people. “It was nice to see this rallying cry [behind feminism]…but I think it is much more complex than that. I just wanted to talk about it,” she explains. “I’m really inspired by what I see people doing, whether it’s marching, or writing honest essays and books, or starting groups and having conversations. I’m really hopeful that feminism is going to open itself up more,” she says.

Robinson has used her platform to get behind advocates for change, including former New York gubernatorial candidate Cynthia Nixon, and her older brother Phil Robinson, who is running for state representative in Ohio’s 6th district. The comedian’s eyes light up when discussing the recent benefit comedy show she co-hosted in support of Nixon with Taylor Schilling of “Orange Is The New Black;” Robinson was blown away by the candidate talking openly about queer issues, criminal justice reform, and the New York educational system. “It’s really cool to hear her talk and then see my brother out canvassing,” she muses. “It just made me be like, ‘Yeah, I can use my platform a little bit.’ I don’t have to force it on anyone, but if I can post selfies like, ‘Oh, I met Angela Bassett,’ then I should also talk about real issues that are affecting everyone, you know?”

For her next publishing endeavor, Robinson wants to create her own book imprint; rather than just being satisfied with her own success, the polymath wants more people of color and queer people in charge of their narratives, and in decision-making positions within the entertainment industry. She’s also working with Bono on Poverty is Sexist, the singer’s new initiative to promote access to education for girls. All this while launching a book tour, writing a pilot, and ramping up for the second installment of the “2 Dope Queens” HBO special, coming in 2019.

If Robinson’s plate seems full, that’s because it is—and she likes it that way. She’s a self-described “workaholic,” who even lamented to me on set that, as fabulous as photo shoots are, they take her away from her passion. When I read Robinson’s accounts of her work ethic in Everything’s Trash, I can’t help but think it’s inextricably linked to the “black tax”—an axiom that argues that black folks in any industry must work harder than their white colleagues to achieve the same goals, all while enduring considerable scrutiny due to race. As a black woman navigating New York comedy clubs and an industry dominated by white, cis men, I imagine Robinson is up against plenty of pushback. But she isn’t quick to agree. “I’m sure there’s some of that,” she says. “But if you don’t have a leg up, you just really have to push yourself to get the momentum going.” Without nepotism or familial financial support at the beginning of her career, Robinson simply dug her heels in.

When I receive an email from Robinson the next day, detailing her mid-photo shoot run-in with Ethan Hawke—nay, “Eth Haw,” as she has now affectionately dubbed him—on the Coney Island carousel with his daughters, I think she has some incredible fodder for a third book. In that signature tone of hers, Robinson relays how, in not immediately recognizing the scruffy Reality Bites star, she almost curses him out. He had accidentally cut in front of her in line, triggering Robinson’s growing sensitivity to white men not respecting her in public spaces. Hawke immediately apologizes, charming Robinson in the process.

But as she climbs on board, posing for the camera, the carousel manager kills the vibe by demanding the shoot be shut down. Hawke is watching all of this and Robinson is mortified. “Now I’m apologizing to Eth profusely for messing up his day. And he’s kind and was like, ‘No worries. You look amazing.’ Yaaaaaaaaaaaas!,” she writes. “And then myself and the photographer got kicked off the carousel. Have you ever had reparations (an attractive white man bowing down to black queen eleganza) and, like, Trump’s America (getting kicked off/out of something) happen at the same time? Well, I hadn’t until then. But it was worth it.”