That is the opening line of a piece from my one woman show that I performed at the January Story Jam series in Wimette, Illinois. Wilmette is a mostly affluent, predominantly White suburb of Chicago. I entitled the story “nigger,” which tells the story of the first time I was called such by a White person. I have to admit that I had some reservations about presenting a story about being called a nigger to a mostly White audience – for about a minute. Hell, I told the world that I weigh 300 pounds in my “Fat” piece, so I figured: “I’m just keeping it real” and besides, I injected a dose of humor into the story, so what did I have to lose? It turned out that I had much to gain by the experience.
“nigger” tells the story of how one of my White classmates in school would sit behind me and chant “nigger” every chance he could. I was eight years old. My parents had taken me out of my all-Black public school and enrolled me in a predominantly White parochial school on the other side of town. (As it turns out I was educated at predominantly White schools all the way through my college years at Northwestern University.) It’s a story that I have been kicking around for some time. It’s a memory that never left me and I recall it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.
I crafted the piece so that the audience could see exactly what that word represents by also describing scenes of intimidation and terror as it was experienced and told to me by my mother from her own childhood. The KKK used to come to my mom’s childhood home in Dayton, Ohio. They’d show up, burn a cross on the lawn and stand outside on the street threatening and shouting NIGGER! until my grandfather (Papa) would come out onto the front porch. Papa had dealt with the violent racism of the South in his youth. He escaped a lynch mob in Georgia some twenty years earlier by hiding for days, deep in the woods inside a hollowed out tree which lay on the forest floor. (I tell that harrowing story in another piece called “Papa.”) But he wasn’t going to run or hide this time. It was 1935 and these racists were mad because he was the first Black man hired by the city to be a garbage man.
I decided to portray all of the characters in my story using different voices and physicality: my eight year old self: the little White boy who called me nigger and his father; my grandfather; a Klansmen; my mother; my teacher and another young classmate – a boy – who was Black. It was a risk. I knew I could portray those characters. I do character voices all the time in my personal life, but never to this extent in a public dramatic performance. At one point, I had two of the kids arguing with each other, switching back and forth between the character voices. It was nuts!
It all worked fine at home alone in rehearsal but could I pull it off in front of a live audience in a theater?
Upon arriving at the theater I started second-guessing myself: “You should have tested this in front of a friend first…”
But I knew that I could do this. After all, I portrayed and sang four characters in the Jazz Opera: “Don’t Worry, Be HaRpy” in France last year that included a duet between a husband and wife and I LOVED it.
The story opens 1969 in my classroom with the chant of my classmate:
nigger, nigger, nigger, nigger, nigger
Then, I go back to the story of Papa’s escape from the lynching in Georgia. I also mention that Papa’s mother was a slave. At this point, I reenact Papa’s confrontation with the Klan in Ohio. I used the most hateful sounding redneck voice I could muster for that of the Klansman. I use my “Papa voice” (a resounding strong male preacher’s voice) as he recites scripture while holding two sawed off shotguns “like some character from a Quentin Tarantino film” to face “them crackers.” I felt it was important to illustrate what that word nigger represents: Slavery, terror and brutality.
I fast forward thirty-four years and two generations to that day in my classroom.
You dirty nigger!
I use my little kid voices with variations to differentiate between the White boy, the young Black boy and myself. There’s even a playground scene! I create my teacher’s voice and that of my mother (that was easy to do) and the White boy’s father to show a scene in the principal’s office. Then I finish the story with a very satisfying ending and a surprise footnote. You’ll have to see the finished show to find out what I’m talking about.
At first I was a bit inhibited while doing the voices because I had to fight my own inner voice that said “You’re making a fool out of yourself!” It was while I was onstage that I found the path to embodying the characters. I simply relaxed and let them become real. I became each character fully and then I was able to quickly transition in and out of them as they spoke to each other.
It was amazing.
It was freeing!
I was ACTING!
Everyone responded favorably to the story, my performance and my ability to do the characters. And I got a few laughs. I have been doing voices all of my life and only now has it occurred to me to consciously incorporate this “skill” into a performance. I walked away from this experience with huge lessons. I have to trust myself and my instincts. And I learned that it is bravery and honesty that connects me to my audience – regardless of the subject matter. I can not be afraid of looking foolish. I have to utilize this gift and continue to write and perform. Obviously, I have issues with acknowledging my creativity and talents. Why else would it have taken over thirty years to use this side of my creative and performing self? Whatever. Now is not the time to analyze. It’s time for action. I must do a staged reading of all of my completed pieces. I have a lot of hard work to do.
Stay tuned for more. I am going to do this!
Note: (Story Jam) is a storytelling series created by singer, songwriter, actress-writer and Northwestern University alum: Stephanie Rogers. She invites storytellers from all over the city to perform their original works. This particular night showcased stories of diversity and diversity was what the audience got.
The storytellers included me; a Mexican immigrant; a young woman of Korean and Puerta Rican descent, who proudly exclaimed that her piece was “about FUCKING!”; a man who is disabled and a young man who hilariously referred to himself as “some White guy.” The show also includes a wonderful live music element utilizing the Stephanie Rogers Band – a nine-piece ensemble of terrific musicians. One of the coolest things she does is to write a song based on each story. These original tunes are usually hilarious and always amazing. It’s a great night of entertainment! I am grateful to be included.
Photo: Lee Klawans
