Over the past few years, Steve Darrell has been hard at work on projects that have made history and shared history. Working on the set of Beyond the Gates, and faithfully directing and delivering an impactful documentary on the legendary gospel group The Chorale Dynamics, which premiered last December.

Growing up in Bermuda, Mr Darrell never imagined a career in film and television production would become his reality. “I always had an interest in photography,” said Darrell, “but I never knew that this is what it would turn into.” At the time, curiosity didn’t yet feel like calling. What he recognises now is that creativity was never foreign to him; it was inherited.

His father worked in audiovisual production, and his grandfather spent years restoring old AV equipment. Back then, those details felt ordinary; now, they read like a blueprint.

“My dad always says it’s genetic,” Mr Darrell reflects. “And when I watch my kids now, I see it.” His 15-year-old daughter gravitates toward the camera instinctively. “I’ve never actually sat her down and shown her anything,” he said. “She just jumps on it. It’s always been there.”

Still, imagination alone doesn’t always translate into opportunity — especially on a small island where pathways can feel limited.

Mr Darrell is careful to name both gratitude and tension when reflecting on Bermuda. “I’m grateful for the opportunities Bermuda did provide,” he said. “But I don’t think, if I had stayed, I’d be where I am now.”

Early on, particularly as a young photographer, he sought mentorship and collaboration. What he often encountered instead was resistance. “There were times when we were faced with pushback,” he recalls. “Instead of learning how to work together, we were working against each other.”

Those moments didn’t leave him bitter — but they did bring clarity. Bermuda shaped him deeply, yet distance was necessary for growth. That clarity did not come without detours.

At the age of 12, Mr Darrell was arrested for stealing bikes. It’s the kind of detail that often gets edited out of success stories, but he tells it plainly. Years later, in a turn that still amazes him, he would become a police officer in Bermuda — investigating the very same crime he once committed. “The guys I grew up around,” he said quietly, “a lot of them are dead now. Or in and out of prison.”

That chapter of his life was marked by instability — moving between schools, navigating environments that could have easily swallowed him whole. But intervention mattered. Structure mattered. “Those experiences,” he says, “allowed me later on to have the discipline I needed.” It’s a perspective shaped by survival and grace. “That ended up being a good thing for me.”

The turning point came much later than people often expect.

At an age when many feel it’s too late to pursue higher education, Mr Darrell enrolled at Full Sail University in Florida, earning both his bachelor’s and master’s degrees in film and television production, proving that timing does not limit purpose. It was not easy.

He spent three of the hardest years of his life away from his family, balancing faith, finances, and the weight of uncertainty. “I had to put everything in God’s hands,” he says. “I had to trust Him completely.” He is quick to add that he could not have done it alone.

“My wife carried everything during that season,” Mr Darrell said. “She held down the house, she took care of the kids, she became the provider so I could chase this. I don’t get to stand here without her.”

That decision would quietly reshape everything.

Today, Mr Darrell works in television production at a level few Bermudians have reached. He currently serves on Beyond the Gates, a groundbreaking daytime drama that airs on CBS and streams on Paramount+.

The series holds historic significance — it is the first Black-led daytime soap opera in more than 35 years, marking a pivotal moment in American television history.

For Mr Darrell, being part of a project of that magnitude is not lost on him, but it has become his reality, saying: “Things happen so frequently now that it’s just become normal to me. A lot of times it does not even feel significant — it just feels like regular life.”

Discussing what success looks like for Mr Darrell now, he said: “For me now, success is legacy. As a father of three, my perspective has shifted. When your kids are little, it’s one thing. But when they start growing, you realise — you’re shaping what they’ll carry into the world.”

Accolades don’t motivate Mr Darrell. Impact does. “When I see something I’ve worked on affect people — that means everything.”

That sense of legacy came sharply into focus while working on his most recent documentary, which traces the story of Chorale Dynamics — a group inseparable from his childhood. His mother was one of the original members.

“The Chorale Dynamics was my life,” he said. “They were always together, and because they were always together, we were always there with them.”

What began as a deeply personal project slowly revealed its wider significance. “I felt like I was just creating something for my family,” Mr Darrell admitted. “I wasn’t thinking about industry standards or legalities.”

Love, not logistics, fuelled the work. Only later did he realise the scope of what he had created. “This is bigger than I thought it was going to be.”

The process demanded everything — time, energy, emotional stamina. Multiple trips between Atlanta and Bermuda. Interviews conducted across continents. Long nights editing. “It took a lot of time,” he said. “So much time that once it premiered, all I wanted to do was sleep.”

Yet it never felt like work.

“It felt familiar,” he explained. Editing became an act of remembrance. Certain moments — footage of his aunt, who passed away early — hit especially hard.

“I might’ve heard the same section a thousand times and it still choked me up,” he said. What surprised him most were the reactions of others — viewers who unexpectedly recognised loved ones onscreen.

“You don’t realise what you’re giving people until you see their reaction,” he said. “That meant a ton to me.”

Storytelling, for Mr Darrell, has always been about truth. “I’ve always preferred documentary,” he says. “I don’t like creating fiction. I like telling the truth — getting people’s real emotions.”

That commitment to authenticity has opened doors far beyond what he once imagined. One defining moment came during a concert tour at Orlando’s Amway Centre, where Mr Darrell was tasked with directing video for the jumbotron.

During Montell Jordan’s performance, he took a creative risk — blending live footage with the artist’s original 1994 music video. “My supervisor told me not to do it,” he recalled. “And I said, ‘I got this’.”

The reaction was immediate. Backstage, people gathered. Murmurs spread. By the following Monday, the touring company requested Mr Darrell personally for multiple cities. “That was one of those moments,” he said, “where I thought — wow. A kid from Bermuda is doing this.”

Despite working at the highest levels of production, home is never far from his heart. “Bermuda is 100 per cent home for me,” he said. His licence plate reads Bermuda. So does his lanyard. “I always want to represent where I’m from.”

Discussing what encouragement he would give to young Bermudians, or anyone feeling the urge to grow, his advice is grounded and practical. “Hone in on your craft,” he said. “You don’t need high-end equipment. You already have a really expensive camera in your pocket — your phone.”

Learn composition. Experiment. Create freely. Share your work. “No one knows you exist,” he says, “if you don’t exist.”

Underpinning every step — every risk, every return to school, every redirection — is faith.

“The cliché is to say ‘put God first’,” Mr Darrell says. “But literally, when you make God your number one priority, everything else falls into place.” Faith, for him, is relational, not performative. “Don’t go to church just because it’s the right thing to do. Go because you have a relationship with God.”

Mr Darrell’s testimony is one of trials and triumph, years of financial uncertainty, time away from family, moments that tested his trust. “Without God,” he says plainly, “I would not be where I am right now.” Faith is not a shortcut, but an anchor. “It’s not our will — it’s His.”

Looking back, Mr Darrell sees a life shaped by discipline, grace, and timing he could never have orchestrated on his own. A journey rooted in Bermuda, refined through perseverance, and sustained by faith.

And perhaps that’s the quiet invitation his story offers: it is never too late to begin again, to elevate your life, or to answer a calling that’s been waiting patiently for you to say yes.