By Rachel Sokol
Diane Farr is best known for her stand-out television roles in Rescue Me, Numb3rs, and Fire Country, where she brings depth and authenticity to every project. In addition to her acting career, she is a published author and journalist, addressing challenging topics both on-screen and in her writing.
With a passion for travel, the native New Yorker recently took an eye-opening trip to Uganda with her daughters. In this conversation with Preferred Health Magazine, she opens up about her role as division chief Sharon Leone on Fire Country, the impact of the Los Angeles fires, and empowering women on a global scale.
PHM: What drew you to the script for CBS’s Fire Country?
DF: When I looked at it, I wasn't focused on the firefighter theme. I have what I call the "five Ps" when choosing a job: the person I’m playing, what's on the page, the pay, the people involved, and the place it shoots. If you have fewer than three, even a dream job can be miserable.
Far and away, when I read the script, I thought it was amazing. I did not see the twist coming—that Sharon is Bode's mother. (Spoiler alert!) I’ve read a script almost daily for 25 years, so if one surprises me, I trust the writers. My first love for the project was definitely the writing.
PHM: Your character, Sharon, has a menopause storyline. Let’s discuss that.
DF: That was actually my request. A great showrunner listens to what actors want to explore.
Our show-runner, Tia Napolitano, is the most collaborative I’ve worked with. She invites us in at the start of each season to share ideas for our characters, and many get woven into the story.
I specifically asked, "Can we please show menopause on network television?"
The conversation around menopause has been so muddied—it’s often portrayed as something ancient and shameful, which is 100% false. It’s something all women who live past 35 will experience.
What I thought could open people up to the conversation is that Sharon and Vince are still a loving, vibrant couple. Sharon appears to be in a romantic, possibly sexually active relationship; she’s still got fire and is physically capable of leading others and carrying a hose. That’s where we should start the menopause conversation.
I have twin daughters who are 16. Last summer, we went to Africa to bring period panties to girls.
My daughters, raised in L.A., and I, raised in New York, met hundreds of girls in Uganda, both in cities and rural areas. At the start of every session, they were embarrassed to talk about their periods—just like I was in high school. That’s three different parts of the world with no real progress in discussing menstruation openly.
And I thought, this is exactly what happens with menopause.
Working with younger actresses on my show, I find it easier to talk about periods than I ever did when I was starting out. My hope is to bring menopause into that same open conversation. I think menopause is about to have its moment—it’s becoming a non-scary word.
PHM: Did fans thank you for the storyline?
DF: Yes, there was a lot of gratitude. It started with my own friends, who felt comfortable saying, "I'm so glad you're doing this." Then I received more DMs on Instagram than ever before and forwarded some to Tia, saying, "Look at this!"
Then fans began commenting, "I don't think we've ever seen this on network television." It wasn’t treated as shameful or hidden; it wasn’t a quiet conversation with a doctor. It was me and a peer at work, figuring out how to deal with it, how to bring it into a marriage, and how it affects life. I’m proud of many things on Fire Country, but that storyline is really close to my heart.
PHM: Tell me more about your trip to Africa.
DF: Each of my kids got to pick a family trip after years of research. It was my way of avoiding bad kids' TV—they had to watch documentaries instead! My daughter Sawyer chose Uganda early on because of the silverback gorillas. We booked the trip when she was 10, only to discover you have to be 15 to trek into the forest. It makes sense; the terrain is tough.
By the time we went, my kids were in high school. I met another mom running a nonprofit in Uganda, and it felt like the perfect fit. Uganda misses out on many donations because the government taxes them, even charitable goods. You not only need donors but also funds to pay what feels like a ransom to the government.
I learned about severe period poverty there. Uganda, with its British colonial history, has many boarding schools. If girls don’t have period products, dropout rates skyrocket between ages 12 and 15, leading to child marriage and economic hardship. It’s a devastating cycle that can be broken with basic support.
At first, my daughters were hesitant about talking to large groups about periods. But I explained, "We’re talking about products and their impact." I reached out to Carla Welch, a celebrity stylist who co-founded The Period Company. I asked if she could sell us products at cost, and she agreed, even though she didn’t know me. It became this beautiful chain of women supporting women.
At each school, we discussed hygiene and gave every girl two pairs of period panties. They last up to eight years and are easy to maintain without modern laundry facilities. The experience was incredibly fulfilling. We originally went to see what Uganda had to offer us, but we gained so much more than we imagined.
PHM: Would you do this type of work in the United States?
DF: I think my role as a mom now is to follow my kids' interests in doing good. After the fires in Los Angeles, when I brought my son home, I noticed he was rattled. Teenagers don’t always say, "I’m not okay"; their needs show up in other ways. So, I took him to help a friend unpack donations for firefighters and displaced families. The moment he focused on helping others, he calmed down. That’s the kind of service I want to lean into—listening to what my kids are passionate about and supporting that.
PHM: Have you ever worked directly with inmates or met any real-life inmates involved in fire protection?
DF: Ironically, when I first moved to Los Angeles, my pay-the-rent job while looking for acting work was teaching acting in a maximum-security men’s prison.
There was a grant program because the "three-strikes" law was still in effect. I had men between 16 and 21 who were supposed to be in prison for life already. Imagine that—three strikes when you’re that young. What kind of chance did they really have to fit into society?
What really struck me was that most of the classes had 10 to 12 men, and eight out of 10 couldn’t read. It was so clear we had failed them as a society so early. Thank God the three-strikes law is gone now.
What I took from that experience is that there’s no rehabilitation through punishment. Being in jail is the punishment. Adding more punishment on top of that just leads to defeat. Any program that teaches a skill—construction, firefighting, plumbing—gives them a chance to fit into society. Firefighting lets you do for people what they can’t do for themselves.
PHM: Regarding the recent Los Angeles fires, were any inmates involved?
DF: I believe around 1,000 inmates were involved in California’s recent firefighting efforts.
PHM: Are you working on any new writing projects?
DF: I use writing as a rinse from acting and vice versa. After being on set all day in a collaborative environment, I crave solitude. But after too much time alone with my thoughts,
I start to hate them. [Laughs]
Right now, I’ve been writing articles—probably one a month—for different magazines. Every season, I jot down ten pitches. One is about a bucket-list trip with my octogenarian dad.
Another is about decorating my home so it doesn’t feel cluttered. I love fine-tuning my voice.
Learn more about Diane Farr via her Instagram: @getdianefarr