Katriona O’Sullivan’s bestselling memoir - telling the story of how she overcame childhood trauma and adversity to become a celebrated university lecturer & author - is now a critically acclaimed play. Although delighted with the way the stage adaptation of Poor has turned out, the West Midlands-born writer will find the show far too painful to watch when it visits Coventry’s Belgrade Theatre early this month... as she explains to What’s On.

She might not thank me for saying it, but Katriona O’Sullivan is quite a remarkable woman. Born and raised in Hillfields - a deprived inner-city area of Coventry - her childhood was blighted by poverty, drugs, alcohol and sexual abuse, and later teenage pregnancy and homelessness. Her Irish parents both struggled with heroin addiction, and as a youngster she witnessed her father’s overdose and subsequent incarceration, experienced sexual violence, and often went hungry and unwashed.

That she survived at all is an achievement, but miraculously she went on to earn a PhD from Dublin’s Trinity College and is now an award-winning lecturer at Maynooth University in County Kildare.

She chronicled her extraordinary journey in the bestselling memoir Poor: Grit, Courage, And The Life-Changing Value Of Self-Belief. The book was adapted for the stage by Sonya Kelly, premiered at Dublin’s Gate Theatre to instant critical acclaim, and arrives at Coventry’s Belgrade Theatre this month.
Katriona is delighted to be bringing the show to the city of her birth, the only other venue she’s so far agreed for it to be performed. But she admits that she finds the play too difficult to watch (“horrible, honestly”), and that you’re more likely to find her in the foyer than the auditorium while it’s on.

“There’s never gonna be a time in my life where it’s gonna be okay to watch myself or read about myself being abused as a child, or think about my mum having to sell her body for drugs,” she says. “It’s painful, and it does come at a cost to me, I’m not going to lie. There are a couple of scenes that always get me, and really hurt my heart. But I also get to witness people learning from the story, being inspired and moved by it. Every night there’s a standing ovation, there’s tears and everybody’s crying. It’s kind of happy but sad as well.

“I just sit in the hallway and read, then sell my merch, get hugs and feel the love of the audience, which is amazing. I love meeting people and having conversations with them, but I won’t watch the show.”

Given the obvious emotional cost, what prompted her to write the book in the first place?

“I was asked to write a chapter for a book Trinity College produces every 20 years called Trinity Tales. The chapter was chosen by the Irish Times as their lead and it went viral.”

Having initially rejected an offer to write a full memoir, Katriona came round to the idea after deciding it could be a chance to help others: “One of the hardest things that ever happened to me was nothing to do with my childhood,” she says matter-of-factly. “I had to deal with the fact that when I went to Trinity College, I saw all the privilege that exists in universities and how little they do to help others. I didn’t want to be one of them people. I have a privilege and I should use it to try to make things fairer - that kind of pushed me to make the decision that I would share my life story.”

She claims she found the writing process relatively easy: “I never thought about the audience, and I kept saying to myself ‘I don’t have to release this if I don’t want to.’” Sharing details of her life came naturally, as she’s always been an outgoing person and an open book: “My brothers called me ‘mouth’ when I was aged three, so it’s not surprising that I’ve always wanted to be heard.

“I just thought about how to tell a good story and how to be respectful to my family, because there’s no villains. The villain is society and the lack of support my family got, and the fact that we allow families to flounder in all communities.”

Despite her best efforts to be respectful to family members, one of her siblings is so unhappy at the memoir’s publication that they never talk about it.

“He hasn’t dealt with things in the same way I have, so he prefers not to think about it. It’s hard. I have to acknowledge that I’ve made a decision to hurt my brother in the pursuit of something I think is going to help a lot of people, and that’s been a difficult thing to navigate. But I love my brother and it’s not his story. It’s my story.”

Katriona says the book’s success - it’s been a constant in the Irish top 10 since being published three years ago - has made the associated difficulties worthwhile. But the response of readers has been even more gratifying - from teachers who finally feel seen (she identifies a couple who went above and beyond to pull her “out of the trenches”) to impoverished women and girls inspired to go to college or pursue careers they’d previously thought out of bounds.

“I still get at least 10 messages a day from people who’ve been impacted by the book. I’ve had nothing but amazing responses to it. For the little girl who lives inside of me, the seven-year-old kid that was underserved and unhappy, it’s been a wonderfully loving experience to share my story. I see the world differently as a result - I see a lot of goodness that I didn’t see before. There’s some really good people, and I think we need to remember that in the dark times that we’re in at the minute.”

That feelgood factor fed into allowing the book to be turned into a play - something she agreed to only as long as she remained in total control, fearing it could “turn into Shameless in a heartbeat” if not.

“My story is about the inequalities that exist in society, and my mum and dad are not the villains; they’re not Shameless characters. It was also about making sure that poor characters were shown in a positive light. Oftentimes we’re shown as these broken biscuits who are prostitutes or robbers, and I wanted to show that you can be poor but also be excellent and skilled and you can achieve.”

Katriona is thrilled with how the play has turned out. She’s also quick to acknowledge that although it can be a tough watch, there’s plenty of fun and joy - and MOR music - in it too.

“A lot of people read Poor and only see the trauma, but when Sonya read the book, she was like ‘I just see Fleetwood Mac; I see Rumours.’ She was one of the people who saw the music and life in it.

“When I lived in Hillfields, we didn’t just sit there as dour, sad, poor people like in Oliver Twist. There was joy and vibrancy in my community, and the play highlights some of the love and light that went along with my life. All the traumas are in it, obviously, but there’s also a light which comes through music and connection.”

She also reveals a childhood connection to the Belgrade Theatre which adds “an extra layer of amazingness”: “The only time I ever went to the theatre as a child was when I was in care in Coventry. The care kids used to get taken to the Belgrade to watch the panto. It was also the only time I ever got a Christmas present. So my only experience of going to theatre when I was in England was the Belgrade, and now my show is going to be on the same stage!”

Poor shows at the Belgrade Theatre, Coventry, from Friday 1 to Saturday 9 May.