By Walter Robert
The lights dim in Hawkins, Indiana. The walkie-talkies are silent. The Demogorgons have retreated. But for Priah Ferguson, the young force who brought the whip-smart, scene-stealing Erica Sinclair to life, the story is only just beginning.
We speak, and there’s a softness in her voice, like she’s holding both gratitude and goodbye in the same breath, and really, how could she not be? Ferguson joined Stranger Things at just nine years old, thinking it would be just another day on set. A short scene.
Maybe a few lines. But then she improvised the word “nerd”, a single syllable that would ripple out into fandoms, memes, and the writer's room, where they kept finding ways to bring her back and back again.
“I thought it was going to be crazy and hectic, but it wasn’t,” she remembers. “It kind of calmed my nerves a little bit, and then, after the first day, I just kept coming back.”
This is how stories start. Not always with grand ambition, but with instinct. A feeling. For Ferguson, acting began as curiosity, watching Shawshank Redemption with her dad, or heist films that crackle with tension.
“I was already a creative kid,” she says, “doing ballet, dancing. Then I told my mom, ‘Acting seems fun. I want to try it.’”
A few classes turned into her first real moment with a small role on Atlanta.
“It was the first time I felt like a star. Like something I’d seen in the behind-the-scenes of movies I watched on YouTube.”
That was the click. The knowing. The beginning.
But stepping into a world like Stranger Things, where monsters hide in the walls and childhoods grow under spotlights, is no easy path to walk.
“Growing up playing Erica while also trying to learn myself, that was the challenge,” Ferguson says. She doesn’t call it a burden. She calls it a lesson.
“For any actor, it's important to know how to separate yourself from the character. Sometimes those lines get blurry, especially when you’re also in your adolescence.”
And yet, she did it with grace, wit, and an uncanny ability to hold her own against one of television’s most iconic ensembles. Off-screen, she still went to public school. Still danced. Tried out for cheer. Served as vice president at her high school.
“I lived a pretty normal life,” she says. “I just had to balance. Sometimes I couldn’t make it to a game, and that was okay. I had strong communication with my teachers and counselors. People didn’t treat me differently; they’d known me forever. It was just, ‘That’s what Priah does.’”
That duality, being Erica and being Priah, shaped her. Quietly. Deeply.
“I think I’ve learned how to find my voice in adult spaces. That’s what this show gave me. I was kind of thrown into this grown world really young, so I had to learn fast.”
When I ask what she’ll miss most, she talks about the process. About fittings. About watching the way scripts become screenplays.
“Reading it is one thing. Filming it is another. And then seeing it on TV, that’s its own feeling,” she says. “I think I’ll miss seeing how it all came together. From hair decisions to lines I get to tweak, I loved that.”
Maybe that’s the magic of Ferguson. She isn’t chasing celebrity; she’s chasing craft. Growth. Intention. With the final season wrapped, she’s thinking ahead, not with a manufactured list of “dream roles,” but with openness. Still curious. Still bold. Still nine years old somewhere inside, looking up at the lights and saying, “I want to try that.”
“I’m excited to explore more mature roles, ones that reflect Gen Z,” she tells me. “I want to trust my work more. Maybe something in the Marvel universe? That could be cool. But I’m open. I’m not stuck on any one path. I just want to keep going.”
That’s the thing about Erica Sinclair, and the girl behind her. They both say things that make people pause. And they both know exactly who they are.