The women on stage except for NOVELETTE.
The women in the bathroom doing something to their hair while looking in the mirror. Soundscape of daily hair noises.
LADY ONE:
So the brotha said he would call on Tuesday. It’s now Saturday and there’s no call. But it was our third date and I gave it up. You think that was too soon? But boy when he whispered to me, baby, I like the way you smell. Baby, the way you feel baby, I even like your toes and baby, your nose. I was in heaven. And then he grabbed my hair and pulled it ever so softly and said “baby, I like your hair.”
LADY TWO:
The naps are showing, I’m perming this.
LADY THREE:
What the hell is this on my face! Oh no not a zit I got a date tonight! I’m cancelling!
A brother once said to me, “baby, I wouldn’t usually give you the time of day, but you’re kinna pretty for a dark skin girl.” Pretty for a dark skin girl! (two beats) What am I going to do with this hair?
LADY FOUR:
I want to be bald, sexy and bold. I think women are sexy when they are bald. Bald. Sexy and Bold. I’m thinking about shaving my head? I need a break. This shit is getting tired. I think I want to go for the natural bald sexy and bold look.
LADY FIVE:
I was once bald. Oh yeah. I told the hairdresser, (An image in silhouette. A woman tapping her feet. Two women reenact the following scene :) “Excuse me. I think you keeping the perm in too long. My head’s burning.” She said…
LADY SIX:
Do you want it to be straight or what? A couple more minutes!
LADY FIVE:
So I just sat there. Clock ticking.
ALL THE WOMAN:
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick.
LADY FIVE:
Clock ticking. Thinking about all the things I’m going do with my straight hair. Feeling my hair burn. Clock ticking.
ALL THE WOMAN:
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick.
LADY FIVE:
I just sat there. Feeling my hair burn. Clock ticking. Hair burning. Bit my lip. Clock ticking.
ALL THE WOMAN:
(faster) Tick, tock, tick.
LADY FIVE:
Forty-five minutes later all my hair was falling down the sink. I had one tuff of hair left just here on the top. One piece. But boy was it straight!
LADY SIX:
Well all my sisters have curly hair. Curly like my Mom. I wanted curly hair. So what’s a sister to do?
ALL TOGETHER:
Get a Jheri Curl!
LADY SIX:
You ever wash a Jheri Curl and all you had left was a Jheri and no Curl. And remember how you had to sleep with that plastic bag on your head. Your man wants to get romantic with you and you have a plastic bag on your head, because you don’t want to grease up the sheets. Jheri Curl juice always dripping on your clothes, getting in your eye.
LADY TWO:
I had my hair braided so tight that my eyes hurt. And can I tell you about the itch, I had to pat it.
All the women start patting their heads.
ALL TOGETHER:
Don’t itch it, pat it!
LADY TWO:
I wonder if Bo Derek had to pat her head. Being that she was the first woman to ever wear braids.
LADY THREE:
You ever kept your braids in so long that when you took them out they were dreads?
LADY FOUR:
That’s happened to me!
LADY ONE:
Me too! Three times! Maybe I should just lock my hair so then I wouldn’t have to spend four hours taking the braids out and ten more hours to put them back in.
LADY TWO:
I’m going to lock my hair. Beautiful long locks. (two beats) My mother would kill me! (two beats)
LADY FIVE:
You ever had your hair hot comb and got caught in the rain. I remember I was terrified of getting my hair wet. I would watch the news every morning and if there was any sort of rain storm I wasn’t leaving my house. A light drizzle, summer shower, thunder storm. I ain’t going.
LADY TWO:
That’s why Black women can’t swim because we’re scared about getting our hair wet. I remember my mom would say.
ALL TOGETHER:
Don’t get your hair wet! you think you’re White?
Bathroom scene ends.
Fade to black and lights up in salon. NOVELETTE speaks to SHARMAINE.
SHARMAINE:
(seated in the chair) Wow! Miss Enid looked great!
NOVELETTE:
Love looks good on her. And her hair has never looked better!
SHARMAINE:
Novelette you’re magic. You know you’re one of the best hairdressers that I know and I’ve had some of the so-called best work on me.
SHARMAINE:
You’re the best! Letty why don’t you come to Hollywood with me and you could be my personal hairdresser. The weather’s nice, I got a guest house you could stay there rent free. I could pay you—
NOVELETTE:
No, No Sharmaine. I’m happy right here. More than happy with what I got. It’s enough.
SHARMAINE:
Your right but it was worth a try. Just feeling a little homesick you know. But Letty I was thinking maybe I should get an auburn something bright, or red bright streaks! Or maybe I should go back to my natural colour?
NOVELETTE:
Well if you can remember what your natural colour was please let me know!
SHARMAINE:
Ok red it is and—
MARCIA:
So, Sharmaine, I am still waiting on the info about your new guy…
SHARMAINE:
(sighs) Marcia, there’s no new guy.
NOVELETTE:
I don’t understand you, you know Sharmaine. Always doing your hair, doing your nails. Such a pretty woman and you don’t have nobody. Career, career. And it’s important for a woman to have a career. But a career won’t hold you at night. You mean to tell me Sharmaine, you can’t find a decent man! You know what your problem is? You are too picky but I am going to help you out. (SHARMAINE looks up at her in distress, everyone knows what a disaster NOVELETTE’s hook ups have been.) Nope don’t say a word Sharmaine. I’m going to help you out.
I have a nice friend called Bunny who is quite nice. A handsome guy. Tall dark and handsome. Six two and strapping a decent job. Nothing is wrong with Bunny. Nothing at all. Well… (pauses) The only thing which might be wrong with Bunny is… he has two teeth missing at the front—
All of the other women in the salon burst out laughing.
SHARMAINE:
You got to be joking! Novelette I—
NOVELETTE:
I told you, you were picky. That’s nothing a good dental plan couldn’t fix. You have a dental plan at your job Sharmaine, maybe you could help poor Bunny out?
SHARMAINE:
You’re not serious!
NOVELETTE:
Well you want a good man you help him out!
SHARMAINE:
I think I’ll be ok…
NOVELETTE places her finger in SHARMAINE’s hair while mumbling.
NOVELETTE:
Every good woman needs a good man ain’t nothing wrong with Bunny and his teeth. Showing off because you are some big movie star now! Hollywood, Hollywood!
The lights go down the GRIOTS sing an upbeat jazzy show tune as SHARMAINE steps into her spotlight.
SHARMAINE:
I think the only thing I ever really knew I wanted to do was to be an actor. (She smiles to herself and becomes very excited.) I wanted to be an actor! I wanted to be a star! And I must have been around eight years old when I saw Lily Tomlin on TV and I knew then without a doubt that was what I was going to do. And my Mom she jumped right in! She was a believer from the start. Mom was always giving me her famous pep talks. Sharmaine you can be anything or do anything. You know sometimes if you want something Sharmaine, and you believe in something you just have to fight for it. No matter what other people tell you. Fight for what you want. (two beats) And I remember in grade three, Sarah Thompson got picked to be the main character for our class play. She got to be the sun. And to make matters even worse, Claire Wilkens got picked to be the moon. Miss Collins thinking she was being multicultural and adding a little Caribbean flavor to the whole production, did me a huge favor by casting me as the star. The star. The lousy star who was on stage for about two seconds and said one lousy line. (very melodramatic) “I am the star. I shine bright.” Yeah the star sucked! And I went home and I was devastated. To me at eight years old the Hollywood dream was already over. (She imitates her mom with a slight Caribbean accent.) Come on Sharmaine; say I am the star I shine bright. (She states it again a bit differently.) I am the star I shine very bright. (imitating her mom again) You think they will notice if you put in one more extra word? (beat) It wasn’t looking good. And then finally the night before the concert Mom figures it out. (beat) two a.m. and we’re in the kitchen cutting out cardboard and gluing aluminum foil on to a huge cardboard cut out of a star. And picture this. The night of the concert. Sarah and Claire show up in their pretty little dresses and bows to read their ten million lines. Mom is sitting smack centre in the front row. (Mom’s voice, “Wait till you see my chile!”) When the lights go down I watch from the sides of the curtain as mom grabs a flashlight out of her pocket and that’s my cue to come out! Mom shines the flashlight on to the stage, I walk into my light. The light hits the aluminum foil nearly blinding the entire audience! The stage looks like it’s on fire! I am in my glory because all eyes are on me! Mom firm and steady keeps shining the flashlight. Every one says, wow! and then is silent as I say my one line. “I am the star, I shine bright”. Mom oblivious to the fact that some people were nearly blinded, by my dramatic entrance. Jumps up and yells Bravo! That is my chile she’s going to be a star! She claps the hardest and loudest. Tears of pride in her eyes, as she graciously thanks everyone who tell her how creative and inventive she is and how my costume stole the show. And we march over to Miss Collins, who is about as equally pissed off as little Sarah and Claire. And Mom said to her. “Miss Collins, I’ve always told Sharmaine, there are no small parts just small actors. And of course (beat) there are those with small minds that think little Black girls shouldn’t play the lead.” (She laughs.) And that was my mom always in the front row. Clapping the hardest and the loudest in my corner. Giving me the strength and the courage to fight for what I wanted. And I needed you. beat I still need you. (two beats) You wiping the tears for every audition I didn’t get. You told me I was beautiful when they told me I wasn’t White enough, didn’t act Black enough, not short enough, too fat, and too skinny. And every time I wanted to give up, you wouldn’t let me. You gave me the ammunition to keep going. Fight for what you want Sharmaine. preparing me for battle. But when I met Jasmine, my defenses were down. I fell hard and fast. And I knew right then, that there were two things I was supposed to do with my life. Be an actor and love Jasmine. Me loving her, and she loving me. Two women in love. Caught up with her, she was all up in my head. I memorized her body, her taste, memorized her like my favourite script. Not wanting to ever forget her smile, her laugh, and how her touch makes me feel. And I am in love. And no it’s not easy. But I am learning to deal with so call friends who turned their backs on me once they found out. My girl not wanting to drink from my pop anymore, because everybody knows what those lesbians do right? But in the same breath she tells me how she finally convinced her man to go down… town. (laughs bitterly, two beats) And of course I always hear I couldn’t possibly be a lesbian because that’s something only White girls do, right? (two beats) And there’s a certain kind of pain that can permanently paralyse you when your own sister tells you she doesn’t want you around her kids anymore because… just because. And I’m learning to deal with the looks, the stares, people calling me sick. Making our love sound like something unnatural and wrong. I am learning to deal with their shit! And really I think I can deal with them! Because you showed me how to fight! So I can deal with shit! But I can’t! Mom I—I can’t deal with your silence! I can’t deal with the fact that you can’t bear to look at me anymore! I can’t deal with the fact that my name seems to get stuck in your throat. How you make me feel that there really must be something really wrong with me, if you can’t love me anymore! (beat) And you use to love me so desperately. I’m still the same person! I’m still here! When did you stop being in my corner? How could you let go of my hand now—When this is the fight where I need you the most. And I miss you. I really miss you. And I can fight. I have to fight. I can fight for everything. I can fight everyone! (two beats) But you didn’t teach me how to fight you.
The GRIOTS sing a soft melody. SHARMAINE returns to the chair lights change. Lights come up with NOVELETTE’s hands still in SHARMAINE’s hair. SHARMAINE looks in the mirror.
So what do you think?
NOVELETTE:
I think, whatever, makes you happy makes you beautiful.
SHARMAINE looks up and realises that NOVELETTE “knows.”
SHARMAINE:
Thank you.
NOVELETTE:
You’re welcome darling. (two beats) Ok, Miss Hollywood. Pay up time. And you know something Sharmaine, you need to be tipping me some big Hollywood money. Now that you are some big Hollywood star. So no change. I will just take this for my tip. Thank you.
SHARMAINE:
You’re welcome.
She walks over to DIANE’s station and pays her.
Thanks Diana.
SHARMAINE is about to leave the store but changes her mind. She stops in front of the store door and tries to get the attention of MARCIA who is now under the dryer.
Hey Marcia! Marcia!
MARCIA comes out from under the dryer.
Is it ok if I bring a guest to your party?
MARCIA:
Of course, I’m dying to meet him!
SHARMAINE:
Great, I’ll let her know. You’ll love her as much as I do.
She walks confidently through the door before MARCIA thinks this new information through.
MARCIA:
Her?
NOVELETTE:
Her.
MARCIA:
Her!
DIANA:
Darling, even I have kissed a woman before myself when I used to live in Paris. It’s a very chic and classy thing to do while in Europe.
MARCIA:
She’s a lesbian!
Blossom grabs her cell phone and immediately starts to dial anxious to share the juicy gossip.
BLOSSOM:
Girl, you’ll never believe what I just heard…
STACEY-ANNE runs in giddy with excitement she steps on Blossom’s foot. BLOSSOM cries out in pain.
NOVELETTE:
Hey Hey, Miss Stacey-Anne. A bruk you want to bruk down mi shop! You don’t see you step on Miss Blossom toe! You better apologise immediately right now!
STACEY-ANNE:
Sorry Miss Blossom.
NOVELETTE:
Stacey-Anne, this is a place of business, not a playground. And I’m not your mother you know, but I’m not afraid to beat anybody in my shop. As a matter of fact where is my belt?
STACEY-ANNE:
Miss Novelette! No! No! Sorry! Me never mean to bruk down your shop. And I have two juicy fruit gum leave and I save one just for you, so you can always have fresh breath miss Novelette.
NOVELETTE:
I beg your pardon little miss. An insult you want to insult me about my breath. (beat) Well thank you anyways. And I know you never mean to come in here and bruk down mi shop because if you bruk it down I will bruk you up. Anyway Give Miss Novelette a kiss, (STACEY-ANNE leans in and kisses her.) and how is your mother?
STACEY-ANNE:
Fine Miss Novelette. She’s at work again. A Mr. Brown a look after we and him give me money to come do my hair. Miss Novelette you can perm my hair today please, please—because I want to have tall hair like my teacher at school.
NOVELETTE:
You want tall hair today Stacey-Anne.
STACEY-ANNE:
Yes please.
NOVELETTE:
Today? Well, Miss Novelette will see what she can do. But Stacey-Anne I know you are in Canada now and it’s cold outside, but it is warm in here so you must can tek off, the jacket, scarf, and sweater.
STACEY-ANNE:
(She sits in chair.) Me know Miss Novelette, but me still feel cold.
NOVELETTE places her fingers in STACEY-ANNE’s hair. The GRIOTS starts to sing a soft melody. The lights go down and STACEY-ANNE steps into her spotlight.
Mi excited mi come a foreign but lawd it cold! Mi love de feel a snow pun mi lip and mi luv to lick it off but lawd it cold! And no matter how much jacket, coat and sweater you wear it still cold! Mi wear three pair a long john, mi na know why dem call it long john because it catch mi right here. Mi wear three pair and mi still cold! (points midway to her knee) Bwoy Canada cold! But mi know sey mi lucky fi come a foreign because nuff people back a yard mad fi come a foreign. And when Granny hear sey Mommy did marry Mr. Brown him a mi stepfadda now. Granny sey you lucky you mudda marry Mr. Brown so now she can send for onnu. A Granny a she luv Mr. Brown. One time Mr. Brown send Granny two hundred Canadian dollar one time! When Granny get de money, she jump and dance, and grab up mi and Carrie. Dat a mi likkle sister and dance round de place. It was the funniest thing mi did ever see, every time mi think about it mi have to laugh. And Granny say Mr. Brown is the best ting which ever happen to dis ya family. And she tell mi nuff times, mi beg you Stacey-Anne when you go a foreign, do na do nothing which will make Mr.Brown mad cause him send fi onnu and him can send you right back! Mommy and Mr. Brown pick we up a the airport with Gary who is mi likkle bradda who mi never did see before. And Mommy cry and hug up mi and Carrie and she start bawl and say what a way you grow big. Lawd a six years now mi never see you. And Carrie grab up pun mi cause she never did remember Mommy. Cause she did one likkle baby when Mommy did leave and mi did six years old. But mi still remember Mommy. Mi remember she did wear one daisy smelling perfume, and when she hug mi a de airport mi did remember her. And Mommy did feel bad that Carrie na look like she remember her. And she ask Carrie if she did get di dress and di clip for we hair, and de socks and de soap powder, and de tin of bullybeef. And Carrie say yes but she still wouldn’t go to Mommy, and she put down one piece of cow bawling for Granny, and she wouldn’t let go a mi hand. And den now, Mr. Brown him did look like him a get mad. And him say to Mommy mi hope sey you no bring na spoil spoil pickney inna ei hope you no bringsey yu na badda bring na spoil spoil pickney inna mi house you know. And just try talk to dem inna de car because mi a park for parking. And him did look so vex mi did think him would a send we right back pun de plane we did come. So mi whisper to Carrie try no badda do nothing which will mek Mr. Brown mad. And Carrie musey stop bawl for one minute and sixty-two seconds and den she put down one next piece a cow bawling fi Granny.
But now Carrie git use to Mommy, but she still stick pun mi some time. And she na talk ‘bout Granny much. And she luv her school, you know why, cause her teacher have yellow hair!, Mi mean blonde hair. And Carrie like her cause she remind her a woman pun Gilligan Island. You remember Gilligan Island? We use to walk must be two hundred twenty-two mile fi watch pink people with yellow hair pun TV, cause we never did have no TV a we yard. And mi like foreign now cause now mi have a TV inna mi room. And mi don’t have to wear uniform go a school. And mi learn to talk properly and correctly. And mi have nuff nuff clothes, nuff nuff long john, and mi eat nuff nuff McDonalds and yam peanut butter sandwich every day with jam! And mi did tell you sey mi have mi own room? My own room. Cause in Jamaica mi and Carrie and Granny use to sleep pun one bed, in one room! But now in foreign mi have my own room. My own room for mi and mi alone!
She becomes quiet and looks down on the floor.
But sometimes Mr. Brown come inna a mi room. When Mommy gone a work a night time him come inna mi room. And him touch mi. And do things which Granny sey you should’nt mek bwoy do but Mr. Brown him do it. And first time mi did sey no Mr. Brown but him did look like him a go get mad. And remember mi did tell you, that Granny said mi shouldn’t do nothing which will mek him mad. And mi no want him fi send we back, and mi no want him to stop send Granny de money. And Carrie she just a get use to Mommy and now she woulda really bawl if we have to go back now, cause Mr. Brown just buy her three new Barbie and him sey him a go buy we a dream house dolly house, big so! (widens her arms to express the length) And mi no want to go back now! And mi na want to mek him mad. So Mr. Brown happy when him touch mi and him want mi to touch him too… and when him inside mi it hurt… but mi don’t say nothing to mek him mad. (begins to beat her leg, mimicking the rhythm of sex) So when him inside a mi, mi just think ‘bout Carrie three new Barbie, Carrie teacher with her yellow hair, mi and Carrie laughing when we a eat McDonald french fries, and mi licking the snow offa mi lip. (Two beats, and she hits her leg for the last time.) And you know my favourite one to think about is Granny dancing with mi and Carrie when Mr. Brown send her the money. By the time Mr. Brown finish. (beat) Granny still a dance inna mi head…
STACEY-ANNE begins to hum and GRANNY enters dancing, very dreamlike, the other women enter and surround STACEY-ANNE, giving her energy and love. And they begin the song and dance of “healing.” After the dance they all turn away with their back to the audience. STACEY-ANNE remains but she is no longer a little girl she is the voice of a grown woman she recites the following dub poem as the women keep the beat with their feet in a step dance.
“in honour of belief” by d’bi.young, a jamaican-born and raised dub poet who resides in Toronto Canada with her son, moon anitafrika.
in all parts of di world
live a little boy a little girl
who is crying a mommy for a daddy
for an auntie for an uncle for a granny
who is crying for a brotha a sistah a friend
to defend them from
di deep bitter bile
violating hands dat creep
beneath di sheet
when them a sleep
dis secret (secret)
a monster inna di closet
little girl little boy di moon is your witness
dis sickness
is no fault of yours
we carry the karmic shame
for not stepping in
and now you are to blame
little boy little girl di moon is your witness
little boy little girl di moon is your witness
dis sickness is no fault of yours
we carry di karmic scar
for not stepping in before it went too far
little girl little boy di moon is your witness
now di time has come
get off of di ground
no more a little girl a little boy
you are a womban you are a man
stand up strong
turn your face to the moon
and your spirit to the sun
and you SHINE without SHAME
this story is yours and mine to claim
little boy the moon is your witness
little girl the moon is your witness
little boy the moon is your witness
little girl the moon
the blue blue moon
is your witness
the moon is your witness
the moon is your witness
I believe. You said mumma it was poppa, but she never did believe. Dem na believe. No body would believe sey yu bradda hold u down, throw u pun de ground. Dem na believe.
Mi know about da teacher who tell yu fi stay late a school. Yes her teacher at school. Dem na believe.
And Uncle Henry who come to visit an could never find him room. Every night him coming. Too often. Too soon. Coming in mi room. Dem na believe. Dem na want to believe.
It was your fadda, my step-father, Nicole’s bradda, Linda’s grandfather, Tamika’s teacher at school, the neighbour, the priest, Uncle Henry, Uncle Dan, Marie’s cousin, the man without a name. They left you. Fearful, rejected, abused and used. Taken things not given freely but nobody would believe. Dem na believe.
And if somebody just believed! You could become proud, strong, beautiful, please (pause) someone help her right the wrong. Sista, hold up your head, na badda hang it down. Look mi in my eye. Erase all doubt, sweep away the shame it wasn’t your fault. I said it wasn’t your fault… You just had to tell me once that it happen to you and I would tell you, Sista it happen to me too. And even it didn’t and I was one of the lucky few, I would still believe you. I believe you. I believe. You believe me? All women all little girls should be believed. Do you believe? (turns her back to the audience and then turns around abruptly) Touch mi again you better run fi your life.
The women do an angry step dance and exit the stage.
No one on stage except for NOVELETTE.
NOVELETTE takes a seat in chair, removes her red wig and addresses audience.
NOVELETTE:
What did you think I was a natural red head! Well I got to get going ‘cause I have a party to go to and ladies you know how long it takes for us to get ready. Nails, hair, outfit! And let’s not forget all those little extras. But I cut out all those little extras. No more squeezing this body into a tight girdle. No I tell you. I’m loving this body now. Took awhile and a few hard lessons but now I’m loving every inch, every curve, every pound. It’s all mine and I love it! Feed it good food, to keep it strong, healthy You have to nourish it. And mi go to gym, but I’m not killing or starving myself. And I don’t know maybe it’s age could be wisdom, or maybe it’s working in this shop for so long. But I see far too many of you women rushing in here, trying to get it right. Be right. Do it right… and no matter what you do, you just don’t feel right. Cause if you’re not ok with the woman inside, nothing else matters. Nothing. (two beats) Anyway it’s party time. I got to go! Party time these are the good times!
She gets up to leave, and NIA rushes in.
NIA:
Novelette I know I missed my appointment, but please could you just squeeze me in.
NOVELETTE:
Listen here, Nia, I told you, come for four o’clock. It’s now nearly nine o’clock.
NIA:
Letty, you never start me on time.
NOVELETTE:
That’s not the point. An appointment to me isa guarantee that you will show up on time. An appointment doesn’t mean that “A” I will start you on time or “B” you can come waltzing in here anytime you feel. Now the shop is closed. Day is finished. Shop lock up and time for everyone to go home and that includes you! Bye!
NIA:
Please, Novelette, I got a funeral I’m going to tomorrow.
NOVELETTE:
(softening) I’m sorry. I did hear about your mother, how are you doing?
NIA:
Oh I’m doing ok, but I guess Sandy’s taking it hard, her and Mom were close.
NOVELETTE:
Well come Nia. What are you having?
She passes her the magazine but then quickly grabs it back.
As a matter of fact you know something give me back my magazine. Because I have no time today for fancy hair styles, pictures in a magazine, and you wanting me to give you false hopes and promises, because I am a hairdresser—
NIA & NOVELETTE:
Not a magician.
NOVELETTE:
So what are you having?
NIA:
As good as you are there are somethings that not even your magic can fix.
She looks in the mirror.
You know what take it off.
NOVELETTE:
What? All of it? Are you sure?
NIA:
Yes.
Lights transition and NIA walks into her spotlight.
Sandy held her breath, when you pulled back the blanket. Pity the bitch didn’t pass out, while you were looking her baby over. I’ll always remember how you smiled when you looked at his ears, then laughed out loud when you saw his even paler fingers. Sandy knew the shit was good, and she had passed again. (beat) I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe the bitch was back on her pedestal. (laughs bitterly to herself) Yeah you knew she had skipped more classes than she had ever gone to. Hung out with the wrong crowd. Dropped out of high school because she was pregnant. But you conveniently forgot all of this because she had given birth to her light brown bundle of joy. (two beats) Her kid’s hair was so wavy, I thought you would jump right in for a swim. You were such a proud grandmother. Quickly calling all the family and telling them how the baby could easily pass for White. (shakes her head in disbelief) And I just wanted to go over there and smack you in your damn Black ugly face, and ask you, what about me! What about Tasha? Did you know that Tasha’s birthday was last week? Did you know that her kindergarten teacher said she’s reading at a grade two level, and today she tied her shoelaces all by herself. But you wouldn’t give a fuck would you because you can’t find a wave in Tasha’s hair. No good hair, no mistaking my baby for White. Her skin is black coffee, black coffee without the milk. And I know it’s all my fault cause I chose to lay down with a man that if he closed his eyes and stopped smiling you would have thought he left the room. (beat) Midnight you called him, but personally I think he looks more like quarter past. And when Tasha was born you marched over to the hospital, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. And you got that didn’t you? You didn’t laugh when you looked at Tasha’s dark fingers and even darker ears. And your face said it all. No need to speak Mom, because I had heard it all before. (imitating her mother) ”How many times do I have to tell you girls pick the men you lay with because anything too black is never good.” (pause) Anything too black is never good. Anything too black is never good! I should have known that because I was never good enough for you was I! You hated my blackness. Ranted and raved every Sunday afternoon as you heated up the pressing comb to press my bad hair. While Sandy ran outside. The good hair one. The light one. The right one. We stayed in the hot kitchen and I pinned my ears back holding my breath, not daring to move because I didn’t want to get burnt again. And as you fried and cooked my bad hair, you cursed my blackness. Cursed my father. Hating, to see him in me, hating to see you in me, hating to see the black in me. (two beats) And you know I’m thirty-two years old and I still cry when I see little Black girls with red ribbons in their hair. You wouldn’t buy me them you said I was too black to wear red. No little red dresses, or red socks. Cause I was too black for red. (getting emotional) Too black to wear red? And you know last week I bought Tasha fourteen red ribbons and put all of them in her hair, yep all fourteen of them in her hair. (laughs to herself) And Tasha looked in the mirror and laughed and said “Mommy, I think I got too many ribbons in my hair”, and I said “no baby Mommy just like to see you in red. It’s my favourite colour.” (two beats) And I wanted to believe that you tried to love me, but I just couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t compete with Sandy. Because I lost that race before I even started. And I’ve been trying all my life to win it. Not to get you to love me as much as you love Sandy but just a little bit. And now you’re dead. (beat) And I know I’m suppose to feel something. Maybe cry, maybe mourn. I want to feel something. And for God sake you’re my mother and your dead! And I want to feel something and I can’t. I want to cry and I can’t. (Two beats, she tries to convince herself.) Maybe at the funeral I’ll cry. Because I’m wearing a black dress, a black hat, black shoes, black stocking all black. All black. Mom, I’m wearing all black! Mom could you just look at me! I’m wearing all black! Please will you just look at me…? I’m wearing all black. (three beats) I’ve been wearing black all my life.
All the women enter individually and state proudly “I’ve been wearing black all my life.” NIA looks at them. This sends them into a healing song, in which they rock together. They perform a healing ceremony which goes through various emotions of discovery, anger, self-healing and love. The dance also offers NIA pride, self-identity, comfort, love, and joy of being a black woman. The women dance a celebratory dance. This is a celebration. A celebration of life. They then close the coil from the opening scene. NOVELETTE enters the dance at the end… Inhales and exhales and smiles at them proudly and proudly states.
NOVELETTE:
I’ve been wearing black all my life.Blessings.
The End