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Writer's pictureBlack Birdseye View

Ponderings of a Thinking Black Man: The Dream


Hello Faithful Reader,


It seems like forever since last we connected. I have been off in the distance collecting my thoughts. I’m back 😊 I hope this month’s edition of the Black Birdseye View finds you well and in good spirits. I am well.


This time around I thought I would share an excerpt for a stage play I wrote years ago. It’s called “Ponderings of a Thinking Black Man”



The stage play, Ponderings of a Thinking Black Man, travels the course of time with Andre' Dalton and attempts to make sense of Black history. Here we have a man who is viewed as a productive American citizen for all intent and purposes. Being of sound mind, Andre is very much aware of the issues that prevent Black people born in America from seeing and realizing their complete and total greatness. His ancestor's dream opened his mind to a deeper understanding of what his people must have gone through for him to be alive today. This play explores the fallacies of the Black man in America.

The Audience will see and hear through the mind of Andre Dalton as he ponders the black man's existence in America.


Setting: Present Day

Lighting for the Opening:

Spotlight on the stage left– (Once Poet Finishes

The Spot Light Dims to Black Out the Stage.


Light up on Andre lying on a couch, waking up from the dream of his long-forgotten Great Great Grand Mother.


Scene 1


Robin:


The sunset the sky a vibrant orange, and I, the African woman, delight in the day. Fresh fruit, clear flowing water, and the unity…now a thing of the distant past.

The day was an ordinary day until they came...With their loud guns and whips, shouting, pushing, beating, and killing. The choice was not ours to make…but theirs.

There were so many of us on the huge ship. More and more of us were piled on top one another. The congestion was almost overbearing…The cries and the foreign tongues…We were all African, yet we spoke different languages.


I longed for home, a home I feared my unborn child would never know. How I prayed, I asked the creator to show me the way. I lost hope, then I sang, and my faith was renewed.

The ship sailed for many days and nights. Days and nights lingered and mixed until I was unsure of the time. The water was not the soft caress of home but a forceful pull of some strange unknown destination. All was no longer well. I could feel the pending doom, all the love, all the hope…buried deep within my womb, with my unborn child. I blocked out the pain. It was too much for one woman to bear.


Where is my love, my life, my child? That pale-faced devil took him away. I begged and pleaded…and yes, I got down on my knees, to no avail. My child was gone.

There I sat…bitter, the beatings, the raping, and killings. How had a people so strong…fallen? Now there I was nothing but an object to lie up and have babies with for them to do with as they pleased…as if that child had no mother.

15 children I bore, 15 children gone. I watched the whole world turn upside down…and not one of us landed on our feet.


Now, reincarnated into another African woman, I see brothers struggling and striving to overcome. I see them on the path of righteousness. I see them take positive steps forward and watch as they are forced to take two steps back. Is there any wonder why our people are in the predicament that we are in? I see brothers who have "made it," yet, in the same picture… I see Brothers who have somehow lost their way… home. I see Brothers on the streets "making it," yet, they are always looking back…perhaps…to make sure that the devil is not gaining ground. Then there are the Brothers who have simply given up and find some type of solace in their refuge.

My sisters continue to struggle to be both Mother and Father, to be both strong and submissive, trying not to lay blame…trying to maintain in a position we should never have been forced to fill. Mine is the sad story of the harsh reality of My People, and the struggle continues.


Action: Andre' tosses and turns then wakes up. He slowly sits then speaks half to himself and half to the Audience


Andre:

She was walking….Minding her own business. One minute she was at peace, and the next…..her world was turned upside down.

I can't imagine what she must have been thinking….how scared she was. I mean…think about it. [speaking into the Audience] there you are...minding your business……doing whatever it is that you do, and along comes a gang of people who look nothing like you with whips, chains, and guns…whose sole purpose and intent is to hunt you and the likes of you. They want to catch alive. You are no use to them dead.

In whose world is this alright? Who did they think they were? Why couldn't they just leave her in peace?


Stock…… that's what they called her. That's how they justified it. She was a human being. She was somebody's daughter, somebody's sister, some bodies niece, somebody's mother….She was my GRAND Mother…. A human being. They treated her like ship's cargo and brought her to America to be auctioned to the highest bidder. They stood her up…made her show them her teeth….they touched her…they felt her…they stripped her.

Why couldn't they just leave her in peace?


Action: Andre stands.


TBC


Until next time 😊

Robin Ess

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