by Paul E. Pratt

If I weren’t so long in the tooth...,” says actress Shelley Morrison with a sigh, her voice cracking with emotion. Though portraying Hispanic maid Rosario on the NBC smash sitcom Will & Grace has made Morrison known for stony-faced wise-cracking, discussing the global HIV/AIDS crisis quickly brings the actress to tears.

She takes a deep breath and exhales before continuing. “If my knees would hold up, I would go to these countries. I would hold these children, hold these women who have been infected by their husbands who have multiple partners and who, if they don’t acquiesce to their husbands’ wishes, will be beaten senseless.”

Again she pauses, her mind seeming to race. In the palpable silence on the telephone line, one can almost hear her heart break around the subject. “We’re living in a totally different world than the world I grew up in where we helped each other,” Morrison says. “Families were important. Education was important.

“We have to bring the humanity and compassion back,” she insists. “Our whole value structure has shifted to what label you’re wearing and ‘bling-bling.’ That’s such bullshit.” 

She stops to think for a moment before finally asking, “Am I too tough?”

To the contrary, everything about Morrison screams care, love, and support. She spends the early part of this interview worrying about the victims of a nearby mudslide which occurred that morning. Initially she is concerned that her nephew’s residence might have been included in the more than 130 Los Angeles-area homes destroyed. Then Morrison quickly looks to the bigger picture. “It’s just horrible,” she says dismayed. “So many people lost everything!”

It is soon apparent this heartfelt sense of responsibility to community—local and global—and others is a common thread with Morrison. Here is a woman with character. She not only talks the talk but truly walks the walk.

In addition to acting, Morrison maintains a schedule laden with activism and volunteer work. She fights for HIV/AIDS awareness, the welfare of abandoned animals, and, though they do not impact her directly, is an outspoken advocate for gay and lesbian rights. 

“Whenever someone is in trouble, they call [my husband and me],” she admits. “I don’t know why. Maybe we have ‘Compassion’ written on our foreheads?”

Whereas many in Hollywood pay lip service to the fight against AIDS, or can recall acquaintances or friends-of-friends who died of the disease, Morrison has much more direct experience. “It’s a very passionate issue with me,” she says. “Where do I begin? It’s an epidemic.”

While fans know her as Rosario, a character she has played for eight seasons, many might be surprised by another role she has played much longer. For over two decades, Morrison has been an HIV/AIDS advocate and, at times, caregiver. “My husband and I are ‘in for a penny, in for a pound,’” explains the sexagenarian. Morrison and husband Walter became involved in the early fight against AIDS, during the pandemic’s onset.

In the beginning, HIV/AIDS was indeed a disease primarily affecting gay men. Through her extensive career in entertainment and the arts, Morrison knew many. Her compassion compelled her to act. Long before medications made it possible to live longer, richer lives with HIV/AIDS, she says the end was the same for nearly all infected with the disease. “There are whole generations right now, all over, who have no idea of what that was like when AIDS hit in the eighties,” she says, astonished. “It’s like if you talk to someone about the Vietnam War and they look at you blankly.

“We were involved with a lot of young men in the last months of their lives,” she confesses. “We would help them and their families as they were dying of AIDS.”

Over the years, this levied a heavy emotional toll on both Morrison and her husband. After more than a dozen years in this cycle, she says both found themselves emotionally drained. Still, neither was willing to stand idly by.

“When we got burnt out, it became, ‘How can we still be involved and not tear ourselves up emotionally?’” she explains. During that time, the couple took several college courses in gay culture to learn more about the disease’s impact and got involved with a variety of local ASOs. 

“And then along comes Rosario and Will & Grace,” Morrison recalls. “Along come people asking me to be involved. I’m grateful for Will & Grace to give me the visibility to give back, to do something.”

Since taking the role, Morrison has been approached by groups such as L.A. Shanti and Project Angel Food asking her to participate in events and fundraisers and to raise awareness. Morrison, of course, jumped at these opportunities.

Days after the interview, Morrison participated in the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation’s 2005 A Time for Heroes. A star-studded carnival, the fundraiser allows guests and children impacted by HIV/AIDS to mingle with stars and partake of activities and events while financially supporting the ASO.

Morrison admits being particularly fond of the ASO. She admires not only its work but its founder. “Elizabeth Glaser was an extraordinary, extraordinary woman,” Morrison says emphatically. “[She] shone a light on who it affects. Children. Children, for God’s sake.”

“If we sit by and become complacent and put our heads in the sand, we’re complicit,” she declares. The idea again leaves the actress choking back her emotions, before uttering, “I’m sorry.

“I’d like to take some of these people who stick their heads in the sand to see these people in the last stages [of AIDS],” suggests Morrison. “Men, women, children, and their families. There but for the grace of God go I.

“Blood transfusions,” she continues. “That’s how Elizabeth Glaser got it. She proved [AIDS] is not a ‘gay’ disease. This can hit anyone’s life.

“If we don’t start educating people. If we don’t start pressuring world leaders. If we don’t start pressuring drug companies,” Morrison says, listing off action items. “If we don’t start beating the drums again in a way where people won’t back off. You can only hit a nail so many times before you bend it....”

It’s as if Morrison needs to rest, to rejuvenate herself, and breathe. She falls momentarily quiet and then giggles. “I had to relight my cigarette,” she finally admits. “I know, I know. I’m a bad girl.”

No, she is human. A warm, funny, compassionate one, like a favorite grandmother might be, but human nonetheless. And she has her faults like anyone else. After calling smoking a nasty habit, she justifies it a bit. “They’re American Spirit Ultra Lights,” she points out. “You have to suck your brains out to get anything from it.” 

Morrison erupts in robust, infectious laughter. Throughout the interview, she alternates between insightful, touching moments which bring her close to tears and these displays of self-deprecating, light-hearted humor. It seems utterly appropriate, considering she has played primarily odd-ball comic roles since her late teenage years.

Born in the Bronx to Jewish Hispanic parents, she moved to California as a child. Soon after, she started her career in television and film.

During more than fifty years in show business, Morrison has starred in some of TV’s most popular programs. In the sixties she played wacky Linda Little Tree on the television Western, Laredo. Next, Morrison donned a habit as Sister Sixto opposite Sally Field on The Flying Nun. The eighties saw her with guest appearances on soap operas, Murder, She Wrote, and much more before landing Will & Grace. “I’m a character actress,” she admits. “For me, that’s what it’s always been about. It’s like a puzzle to me, putting together this person with quirks and idiosyncrasies.”

Morrison has ample opportunity to do exactly that on Will & Grace. Playing the maid, personal assistant, and confidante of actress Megan Mullally’s Karen, Morrison’s Rosario takes a great deal of verbal abuse from her social-climbing, upper-crust, pill-popping alcoholic employer. “The things Karen says bounce off me like water off a duck’s back,” Morrison notes. “But when [Rosario] can get in her zingers, she gets them in. She says things a lot of people would like to say to their employers.

“If she had a comeback every time Karen said something denigrating, it would become very tiring,” Morrison points out, saying this is where acting skills come into play. “You try to do it with body language,” she explains. “The stiffening of the back, the cocking of the head when looking at her. It becomes, ‘I’ll get you, but you just don’t know when!’—and the audience knows this.”

Throughout her career, Morrison never fit the bill of “leading lady.” She was all-too-happy playing eccentric and sometimes absurd roles of all ethnicities. In doing so, she has stolen scenes from several generations of Hollywood’s heavy-hitters. From Omar Sharif and Gregory Peck to Sharon Stone and Salma Hayek, the list goes on.

These days Morrison shares the screen with some of television’s A-list—and the broad spectrum of big-name guests who are clamoring to appear on Will & Grace: Madonna, Cher, Ellen DeGeneres, to name a few. Morrison says, “Every big name wants to be on the show. You’d be surprised. They have the time of their lives. It’s a very, very happy set and the guests are treated with respect and they don’t want to leave. They want to come back!”

Now in what she deems “the third act” of her career, and with Will & Grace in its last season, Morrison looks forward to doing voice-over work. Recent projects include children’s shows and animated features such as 2004’s hit A Shark’s Tale. The actress particularly enjoys these gigs. “It brings out the inner child,” she says. “And you can go to work with no make-up and in pajamas and it doesn’t matter.”

This fits her personality perfectly. Despite the red carpet events, two ALMA Award nominations (celebrating Latinos in the entertainment industry), and her lengthy list of television and film credits, Morrison refuses to consider herself a “star.” “That’s other people’s perception,” she says. “It’s not my perception. I still live in the same house. I still drive my Honda. My big whoop yesterday was to go to K-Mart and buy new underwear. Fruit of the Loom. Woo-hoo!”

Morrison says her husband is more aware of various aspects of celebrity than she is. And, as he often does, Walter offers helpful suggestions. “He says, ‘Honey, you’ve worn that several times now. Why don’t we go get you some jewelry?’” she admits. No matter how hard he tries to persuade her, though, the answer is always the same: No. Morrison says she is uncomfortable borrowing jewelry for awards shows and other celebrity events, which would require a guard to follow her around all evening. Admits the actress, “It makes me too nervous.”

“We did that once,” Morrison says flat-out. “All night long I kept saying, ‘Walter, are my earrings still there?!’”

According to Morrison, she is not in the business to be a celebrity. The reason she does it is simple: “I love to work.”

Sure, Will & Grace has helped her family financially. Having lived in the same home for the past sixty years—yes, Morrison now shares her childhood abode with her husband—she admits her career has “helped with repairs to the house.” More important, though, is the visibility it brings. “I’ve got the visibility to do benefits for AIDS, breast cancer, and animal organizations,” she says. Stating firmly that “artists have responsibilities,” she suggests others in similar roles should use their fame to increase awareness of HIV/AIDS. Then she points out a sad truth. “Let’s face it,” she says. “AIDS is not the ‘in’ disease.

“We have been staring at the elephant for too long,” says the actress. “It’s time to shift our position to get people aware, to get people passionate to do something.

“There are far more brilliant minds than mine to kick this around and come up with ideas how to bring this to the forefront again,” Morrison suggests. “But we need to have a renewal. We have to keep the flame alive.

“Once the flame is extinguished, we’re finished as a humane, compassionate society,” she says. “And we’re not just talking about our country. This is global. Africa. It’s in India and now it’s in China.

“Come on,” she implores with finality. “Save them. Save yourself. Save future generations. It’s that simple.” She pauses, thinking again, before suggesting, “Maybe I’m just too outspoken for my own good?

“It’s getting scary out there, though,” she says. “People are afraid, and someone has to say, ‘Come on folks, let’s pull together!’ Yes, I have to put food on the table. Yes, I have to pay the bills. Yes, my house is sliding down a hill. Yes, yes, yes.

“But come on, fifteen minutes a week,” she urges. “Write a letter, make a phone call, send an e-mail. Fifteen minutes a week. It’s not that much, but it keeps the dream going. It keeps the flame alive.”

“It’s like going back to the caves,” she says with finality. “If we don’t keep that flame going, it’s going to be a long, cold winter.”

Many thanks to Charles William Bush. Visit his Web site at www.charleswilliambush.com.

Paul E. Pratt interviewed singer Jill Sobule for the September issue. Read more of his features by logging on to www.paulepratt.com.

October 2005