I finished my first draft for the plantation walking tour. Yesterday, my writing partner and I walked the grounds, script in hand, to see if it actually fit. It did. She told me that the script was fabulous and sent it out to the rest of the committee with a glowing recommendation. Trust me, that was just about the only good thing that happened to me yesterday.
As I was walking the plantation grounds yesterday, I got to thinking about the whole "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" fiasco. Abridged version: the director of my local theatre company asked me if I would play a house negress in their production. I told her hell to the naw and told her that she could basically kiss my ass. I'm black, but I'm an educated person- a writer, damn it! Why would I debase myself to play such a role? Where was she when they were searching for Elizabeth Taylor's part? Anyway, yesterday I thought, if nobody plays these parts (house negress, plantation slaves), then somebody else will. Somebody who will take liberties with telling the story, whitewash the situation or not tell the story at all. If nobody plays the parts, then the stories will be lost forever. So, it was uncomfortable for me to write the scene between the two slaves, but if I didn't write it, someone else would and I doubt they would show ol' Towerhill and Clem the respect that I tried to show them.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
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