 Hey guys Thank you so much for being here tonight at victory gardens theater. My name is Isaac Gomez I'm the literary manager here and on behalf of this theater. We want to welcome you to we must breathe Chicago artists responding to national events and outcries centering on racial profiling police brutality and Obviously some of the events that we've been seen highlighted on the news lately Ferguson New York City even in our city in Chicago Chicago police brutality It's been a thing that's been happening here for a very long time and we wanted to create a space Where we could have artists non artists community members come together and respond to what's been going on You know, it's interesting because and I'm just gonna talk for a quick second and then we're gonna Hand it off to these guys back here We've been having these conversations Constantly around what can we do? There are so many faces. I see in this house tonight who I know have been protesting for months Those who have been watching at home Those who have been writing Those who have been speaking Those who have been talking to their friends and family about what's been going on. I Think a lot of us are unsure of how we feel about all of this And for those of us who are very sure our feelings ring strongly so I want you to and I want to encourage everyone as we Experience these pieces tonight That we listen with an open mind With an open heart and that for our discussion to follow we come together and ask ourselves What can we do? What do we do? so before I Give it up to our fantastic team of actors. I have a lot of thank-yous. I have to say so just bear with me for a quick second For if you you're obviously I'd love an applause for these folks But if I can just get through the list very quickly then and we can give one thunderous applause to these people That would be awesome So firstly, I'd like to give a humble thank you to all of our artists who are participating in this this evening We have six playwrights five spoken word artists ten no five actors Coming together in this space in the matter of ten days To write this to write these pieces. We rehearsed very minimally and are performing them for you tonight for the very first time So I'd like to first think obviously our director Joni Schultz playwrights Marcus Gardley, Tanya Saracho, Nambi Kelly Kevin Andrew Hinderocker and Christiana Cologne and then our spoken word artists which also include Christiana whom you'll see perform later this evening We also have Kevin Koval Malcolm London, Nikki Patton, Jevon Smith, and obviously Calamity West is also a playwright whom I glanced over But we love I love you Calamity And obviously also a big thank you to our actors Paloma Nozika, Zarina Ali, Julian Parker Robert Cornelius, Megan Reardon, and Darcy Nalipa and then also a shout out to our fantastic DJ who's been spinning throughout the last hour Misha DJ White Russian as he also goes by I'd also love to give thanks to our discussion moderators Samuel Roverson who will be facilitating the discussion in this space following the performances We have Jackie Taylor from Black Ensemble Theater moderating the discussion that will be happening upstairs in the RCT which has a live stream viewing of this exact room and then we also have Caitlin Wood who will be moderating the discussion in the rehearsal room Which is also having a live stream right now because of the response from all of you We had to prepare for overflow I'd also give a I'd also love to give thanks to Polly Carl, Vijay Matthew, Jamie Galoon, and all of our friends over at HowlRound HowlRound.com and HowlRound.tv who have made this evening accessible Internationally there are people who are watching this online right now so To my dear friends at HowlRound, thank you for all of your patience and support We're so excited that we're able to do this and also I want to say for everyone watching very quickly We'd love for you to participate and engage with us via Twitter using the hashtag We Must Breathe so as you're watching these shows and experiencing this dialogue please use that as a response as well and Then I also want to give thanks to our coalition in support of We Must Breathe which include non-profit and for-profit organizations who believe in this cause and believe in what we do and And who have been doing this groundwork for this kind these kinds of initiatives for years you guys So I'd love to give a thanks to Mothers of Murdered Sons, Congo Square Theater, Amnesty International, Chicago Torture Justice Memorials Dr. Noni Gaylord Hardin from Loyola University, Igrow Chicago, the J.F. Peace Project Imagine Englewood If, Arte Vida, Dr. Soyini Madison of Northwestern University, J.R.V. Majesty Productions, The Civil Rights Agenda, Adventure Stage Chicago, Black Ensemble Theater, The Youth Empowerment Performance Project, The Human Rights Watch, Chicago Artists Against Injustice and lastly Deb Klopp and Ben from the League of Chicago Theatres who did a strong push for this event as well So thank you all so much, but most importantly I have to publicly give my deepest thanks to Artistic director Che Yu, our managing director Chris Minnelli and the entire staff at Victory Garden Cedar who have Generously and so graciously Prepared for this event to pull it together within the last 10 days So to my colleagues and friends here at Victory Gardens, thank you so much. So that's all I have to say So ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present to you. We must breathe By Tanya Seraccio Did you see? Of course I did. That's all my Facebook is like exploding Twitter. Everyone is posting. No, I know I know I've been I've been glued to my computer. Look, I can't turn off CNN. It's like it's consuming me I know I can't even believe how we're here just as a people as Americans, you know, it's so sad Don't Seriously, if you're gonna say that you knew the jury was no Nothing happened to Zimmerman and that's the whole yeah, that's what I meant. No, this is not the thing to say This doesn't make me feel any better. I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm just saying this country It's fucked up It's the worst we're in some kind of I just I don't understand how a fucking jury. No, I know girl I know But like this is America You know This is America. Yeah, we're awful Why are you? You're just you're being like I'm sorry. You're you're being a little what a little like oh Things are so fucked up. Oh, well, what's on Bravo? When did I say anything about bravo? No, you didn't it's just you're being so I'm being what I'm being what so Kind of flip about it. I'm not being a cop killed a kid murdered a boy and He got away with it in front of 270 million people. Why are you attacking? I'm not attacking you. I'm sorry, but it feels no I'm sorry I'm not I Just this this is really delicate and you're I'm sorry. I mistook your tone and I'm sorry, but I was trying to say Is that yes? In Missouri a cop killed a black kid. Sorry an African-American kid and that's I mean that's a tragedy But it's like it's an epidemic. It's not going to be Ebola. Why are we flipping out about Ebola? It's this Cleveland a cop shoots a black kid in Denver I got fucking pummel's a Mexican guy. I don't I don't know you some kind of Latino some Kind of Latino I'm sorry How else do you say it? He beat up? Latino guy and his wife some kind of Latino. Wait now. I can't say a person's race. Why are you jumping jump? I came to bring you camomile because you said that you're upset and you didn't have any tea I'm not the fucking Why why do I feel like I'm your enemy right now? God. God. No, that's not I'm not You're not my enemy Of course not. I'm sorry. This is just I just don't know how to make sense of this. I'm having trouble making sense of this All day. I've kind of been What the fuck do you do with all of this? How do you turn it into like what can you do like where do you make the donation to throw money? No, I know God. I know but I'm like Besides donating to that library Besides going downtown to March, which I fucking did What the hell do you do? What do I do? I'm asking a real question. I'm being for real What do I do? Shout out to the people in the other rooms. I hope you can hear me. Okay. Thank you for that. I appreciate Yeah, this was written this morning at 7 23 after Alan Ginsberg and Jay Cole Killing America one America The pitiful America the predictable America the tragic comical America the cynical America The cyclical America the sick in you America will sick in you America, this is deja vu America the brutal with racist lies Where rapes defined in ample ways of pain purple pronouncements Travesties a love the muted maimed America's the same old Same oh say Basquiat say Emmett Till say Kunta killed by Grand Wizard juries no indictment America the flurry a blind snow white Judge Judy a Cinderella a fairy tale pale America the shovel America's disheveled. I know you're gonna dig this grave your own America the slave at home God shed his hate on thee found his goods in other hoods and colonized the sea the sea The Crips the Bloods the body the blood the body the Latin Kings indigenous kind America can breathe just fine all the time Got oxygen tanks on reserve like oil barrels and space stations America the two America's not for you America of grand inequity and police brutality America the stoned to death America the short-termed memory America the felony America fell on me the city of John Burge How can you be surprised America the north side the North Shore the whole time? It's been this big business past is the future shit ships middle passages pages rip out history books America's been crooks criminalized juveniles pawns Rooks America the bond America shakes, but doesn't stir America is everything North of Madison America is selective enrollment America is a black president American Exceptionalism one not the many to America We are many not one to point oh a new black Panther Party a race war a great Chicago fire coming Burning a second city in lieu of two cities a new day the fight after the night the pen is a gun America you were right to not want Fred Douglas to write his children colored in all the white Space America you get the gas face the facts the state-sanctioned violence may him and black bodies Since Columbus got lost in ABC still broadcast his parade land Land of the greed home of the slave trade NBA transatlantic records America your time is coming To an end America the Empire is falling flailing dead fish Failing CPS America don't want its kids read good right right grow up hands up America Stay shooting but kids learn to duck and weave Encounter clock wise like Muhammad Peace be upon Ali Ali like Bruce we still kicking America long after you die in Trump Towers in a bowl of truffles Whatever the fuck you eat today Long after you go back to your loft in the south loop or whatever plot of land you take over next the Takeovers next J. Hova witness this where all the witnesses Pen of an abolitionist while I write this the whitest of whiteness behind us hoodies up heads up Shoulders to the wheel pens up swords up. Let's write March fight into the night ahead America you dead Three piece first song by Christiana Cologne Cologne ain't money. Whatever It's not what we own whole thing got to come down like Equality ain't just sitting at the front of a bus just like equality ain't a white boy brains blown out on the ground next to Big Mike big brains blown out on the ground Equality ain't a little ain't a little white boy belly pump full of bullets on a swing set like Tamir rice belly ripped open on a fucking playground But that would be someone I for an eye belly for belly white baby for black baby I will it be something And what we bow That what they pray we bow We bow, how can we live without blood money? They call us thugs criminals terrorists, whatever, but they want to tax me to live on land. They stole I Mean they stole me and when attacks me to live on land. They also stole Y'all see nothing fucked up about that equation. I Mean, no, no, who fucking violent Who fucking genetically criminal? I am not genetically criminal No, no, but to keep it really real Initially just came out for the looting Yeah Looting what brought me out Little come up whatever Folks busting in glass and racking Fascinating Ferguson PD can radio delwood can radio fluorescent can radio Clayton and Berkeley snatch up rhinestones jeans Kicks man cartons of Marlboro cheese Pampers See whole thing got to come down Talk about looting We saw still in his way to prosper You steal people you prosper You still land you prosper you still flash dreams pussy You still time and you fucking prospering this motherfucker man, but I still a PlayStation and I got to do a bit man Get the fuck out of here, man You wanted me on these streets man, you wanted me here You wanted me here. You wanted a little thrill at your edges me all dark and taking up space Me all fucking and fatalism if target practice like jagging off. I'm a fucking porn star Yeah, you get off the thoughts of me why you aim at a paper villain across the range And that's why I say the whole thing got to come down That's why I first came out for the looting, but the second night I came out for the looting I ain't want to take nothing. I Just stood out there in the smoke talking to my brothers man chopping it up With my brothers, I thought I lost brothers. I ain't know I had and I Stood out there and I saw these brothers. I didn't want to see dead and we start guarding the stores Yeah, we start guarding the stores. We were looting make sure and no one else come through the glass I saw these bodies on the street man. All these bodies on the street, man So these bodies on the street on west fluorescent All these young black bodies august hot Sun lay on them all day muscles humming with sweat come nightfall and for the first time a long time I saw them bodies and I didn't want them to die I mean I gave a fuck I saw my brothers I saw my brothers and I knew if we want to live We gotta be the police We're not gonna be police by motherfuckers who want us bleeding They got armor. Yeah, we got armor. We gotta be armor. They got batons or rifles, man I love gotta be a baton. Our tongue gotta be our rifle. We gotta love ourselves so hard We police our motherfucking self Whole thing gotta come down Three piece meets shea by christiana cologne Three piece steps into the beauty supply store through the human shaped hole in the glass storefront He cradles a broken cash register wrapped in a towel like a swaddled infant Shea sweeps broken glass headphone and ears blasting something ratchet She dances with the broom Three piece sets the register on the glass display case also spited from impact Packs of weave clutter the floor Three piece plops the register on the counter Causing the splintered glass to shatter and the register to collapse into the display case Shea startled fluidly grabs a bat from behind the counter and swings it at three piece He ducks the blow fuck out of here for our college clean this shit all goddamn day That call my whole sets right in your monkey ass though. Oh, man, bitch. Fuck you screaming Breaking more shit while i'm trying to clean up this shit. Y'all got damn fever now I didn't bring shit. I came to give you back your funky ass cash register Counter already broke It wasn't broke like that. Well a lot of shit more broke than we thought now ain't Is there anything in it any money in the register? Nah Shea goes to lift the register out of the display case, but she's short and it's deep. She struggles Three piece goes to help. She tries to box him out He reaches in again and she bodies him away. He advances once more Quit trying to push up on my booty Funny how after you and your crackhead friends want to destroy my mother fucking place of employment now all of god damn sudden think you suck I didn't have shit to do with your place. Get past and you need to be talking crazy about In a register outside your big melon ass. Hey Man, keep on threatening me. See if I don't call the cops call them, bitch You think I give a fuck about the work to be here? See if I don't get the whole goddamn national garden here Yeah Three piece finally fishes the register out of the display case and shoves it into shea's arms She sets it on the floor and begins trying to open it, but the damage has made it jam shut I was on night patrol last night Shea is unimpressed I mean I stood out here making sure nobody else came in mean about six other brothers. No, you must want a purple heart She continues to struggle with the register. You say you're gonna call the cops on me And I come to say that I'm the new cops, baby And if you want I can sense if you want I can send some folks in here to help you clean up Yeah Mr. Miranda will think it's a great idea for me to let them up Fuckers who destroyed his livelihood in here to clean him out talking about they helping me clean up I was born at night not last night. I'm lucky. He ain't firing my ass already. He fired all the other girls But you know, I got the most baby. So I guess he was nice enough not to fire me Shea finally cracks open the register She lifts the cash tray and then a small metal sheet beneath the cash tray where she finds an envelope full of big bills Niggas make the dumbest criminals at least for white people still they do it right Shea counts out a few bills for herself rolls them up shoves them in her bra She dials mr. Miranda on her telephone on her cell phone. Hi. Yeah. No. No, no, no, no, no Everything is mr. Miranda I already redid the inventory in the back. I'm just trying to By friday tomorrow. What time tomorrow? I'd have to stay here all night to finish that by myself Yes Yes, I do. I know you do. Thank you, mr. Miranda Huh, oh, yeah, I was calling to tell you the cops brought the register back Yeah, it's broke, but it looked like it'd be cheaper to fix it when we get the whole new one and cheaper to fix it Than to get a whole new one. So Yeah, there is all the register cash was gone, but it was still some money under the tray. I ain't counting yet You never gave me the combination to the safe She hangs up The owner on the way to get this money So you might want to get up on out of here because I may not call the cops on you But he most definitely will if he don't shoot you on site Now why you let that man disrespect you like that like what like you stupid untrustworthy He trusts you when it comes time to sweep up glass But don't trust you enough to hold on on some money. He counted as a loss already Things are kind of dangerous right now. Why you ain't been up there? Excuse me. Didn't you hear me say you need to go take a walk with me Maybe you need the police to come whoop your ass knock some sense into that ugly head with a nice stick You want to see that My head cracked open on the concrete. Maybe Maybe Maybe I just want you to leave so I don't lose this job Because I almost have enough safe for security deposit on my own apartment And I'm sick and goddamn tired and my mama always telling me my rules smell like weed And having to do the dishes for all my grown ass brothers and sisters Well, we marching from canfield to the pd at seven Come through when you get off You know, you don't be doing no damn marching. We marching at seven. Who is we people? I ain't the people Every night at seven every night till they lock that man up Then you're gonna march off the edge of the earth. They're not gonna lock up no cops Then I'll march off the edge of the earth, but you gonna march with me Maybe not tonight But eventually you gonna have to Mr. Miranda just as quick to put a bullet in you and starve your babies You only as good as the next chicken head who won a weekly discount on her weave Help that man build his fortune in America and he wouldn't pee on your jellyfish stain Three piece pulls out a gun and aims it at shade and if I came in here to rob you Rape you rape you rob you and set you on fire How hard you think the cops will work to identify your remains, huh? You think they sent a motherfucking forensic team to dust for my fingerprints if it wasn't no goddamn broken glass You just be another dead trick with no name He puts away the gun Eventually You won't have to pick a side Let me know if you want me to send a team in there to help you clean up After we march It's been a long a long time coming But I know a change gonna come My heart goes out to you Who knows criminality before you can speak your name from the womb You were labeled police bait and in the waiting room you lay Prostrate waiting on everybody that you could have been And we'll never know how much of a man you would have been because a big black body becomes fear soon as white see it We godzilla to them. We the villain only live in to steal kill and destroy the day Police stand with us against police brutality is the day they stop supporting police brutality. I'm sorry I haven't been to more protests. I just needed my mental health I needed to hold onto stability because I have never felt more unsafe in my life Traumatized by weak and powerful police Potentially getting away with the murder of my soul beautiful soul And the souls of black folks our lynchings have always been justified if I died today Justice wouldn't be justice when the justice system sees my black skin and my black witnesses There are police officers on every corner of every block in my neighborhood and I have seen injustice I have seen us treated like liars before citizens like troublemakers before citizens We are demonized by police who can't even police themselves I have seen them and they are trying to think that they are going for peace when the only thing that police is injustice I know that the only thing that there was was never peace There was only quiet quiet rage and quiet complacency Quiet theory and quiet sorrow. I was scared to leave my house more afraid of the police and of the purported violence on the south side because they get away and we Get treated like terrorists when the only thing we terrorize is white supremacy I was scared and I cowered and I seceded and receded in fear of a fearful white man because His fear has power and my fear must be thuggish. Don't you see? This is international cold war and it's civil war. We the propaganda Do you see that the belief of mike brown as a thug is to believe his father is absentee And his mother is a single complacent neglectful welfare queen and couldn't raise a black boy into a black man It is to believe every stereotype about black bodies and black lives have validity They warren on black bodies by killing the black prototype Mike brown was a boy turning into a man tamir rice was a boy Turning into a man. Eric garner was a man who was turned into a victim and all us blacks watch An empathy and I want to be able to chant and I want to be able to believe that black lives matter That black lives matter all black lives matter trans black lives Matter queer black lives matter woman black lives matter gay black lives Matter poor black lives matter all black lives matter By Andrew hinder rocker. I'm pretty sure I'm the only white dude on the bill tonight Which means my ass is the least qualified one here And yet for some reason I've been given three minutes I've also been given an almost unfathomable advantage in virtually every facet of my life, but Back to my three minutes I'd like to use mine to listen In just a moment. I'm going to ask you to turn on your cell phones And then I'm going to give you the number to my cell phone And then if you're willing I'd like you to send me a text I'd like to know what you yearn for In the wake of all of this Injustice What do you long for And whatever you feel like writing whether it's redemptive or retribution Some concrete actionable change or something abstract grand or small I'm asking you to speak from the heart to me So if you're willing, please turn on your phones Oh, and by the way tomorrow morning, I'm going to type up your responses and post them on my facebook page for anyone to read But selfishly They're also for me To remind me To guide me To hold me accountable And if you want to hold me accountable I'm about to give you my cell phone It's eight four seven. Oh and by the way, you don't get wider than eight four seven Kenilworth, uh will met. Thank you very much Are you you guys ready eight four seven nine one two six seven one nine What do you yearn for? Please send a text with your response to Andrew's cell phone at eight four seven nine one two six seven one nine And by the way, this is Andrew's phone for real. So I'm going to be getting your text right now. So if you guys could send them in Which means the last minute of his piece will be written by you So here we go We got a bunch going on here. So here we go For black lives for brown lives to really truly undoubtedly and unconditionally matter justice peace Service I want to be of service I yearn for tears Not being passive connection Imagination as the antidote to the impossible A love that will make change Change that leads to safety and peace resolution fairness justice The end of people trying to control one another understanding I long for a place to start healing everywhere. I see you soar To wholly exist in the god-given space that I inherited I yearn for equality I yearn for people to fucking understand to sit their asses down and listen to have some empathy and to get off their Damn asses and do the right thing You guys writing it Collective action and understanding to make change real and lasting change love freedom peace and love love safety peace love No fear in being free total peace on earth solidarity Thank you Truly Thank you on the brink of the apocalypse Nation made of quakers Mormons Mayan Scientologists day traders day laborers naysayers congressmen patriots facial lifts debutants in politics Start not to give a fucking stop here in the consequence Drinking every night and so we drink to my accomplishments Lights come on at final calls will pay me all your compliments before I pay the tab I get with refunds from my scholarship. We ask no questions before signing master promissories We ask no questions when he sends the troops to battle for greed and you know, I love obama But he let them bomb zucchini and you know that burning books is the prelude to burn bodies so Kind of them all take your kids to visit them all play rich until derivative small though stitch the emperors niggers will fall Don't flinch when all the niggers are called niggers on call niggers lost a hollywood map and got no onstar with us Barnyard business animal farm y'all with us no barcos on my arm. God is my witness bust up in the vault and leave with all y'all's riches Face against the wall hands off alarm switches janitors cut cameras We got the guards with us toss the gas canisters back at y'all killer So the duck is in the truck and drive to canada with quickness at my name to the pages of a long long hit list um What's up? Y'all how you feeling? You have no idea how beautiful this is. No, you probably do Amazing, um, I just want to take a moment Um to honor and lift up. That's some very important people. I mean all of you are really really important, but Um lost voices in the audience. Could y'all stand up For those of you that don't know the lost voices are a group of protesters from fergusson That have been on the front lines of this resistance movement from day one They camped out in the protest area for 47 days. They vowed not to move until daren wilson was indicted They were forcibly removed by fergusson police, but they have not stopped their work And they are here today and Thank you um I want to make sure that we honor them because as important as it is that we Get our feelings out about this movement through our art We have to understand that people have been putting real things at risk and real things at stake their bodies and their lives every day And so we have to really lift up and and pay homage to the sacrifices that they have made So that we can do these things from the comfort of these theater seats and so um, I'm gonna do one more short piece But I need some audience participation because I think it's time that we feel good I think it's time that we do some feel good because Uh, so much of what we have experience right now is tragic and we need to Allow space for us to feel that tragedy Um, but I think it's important that the name of this event is we must breathe As the chance on the protest lines have been I can't breathe and solidarity with Eric garner and his last words as he died We also now have to know that it's time to take a collective breath and understand how to heal and celebrate together And that we are what we need to heal ourselves So I need y'all to do a little call and respond to me. Is that cool? Yeah Cool So when I say If you're alive then sing I want to hear y'all say we got everything Let's try that out If you're alive then sing You're all you got to bring Cool, that's cool. That's really cool. All right So I need y'all to give me a little beat too. So Can y'all I know it's going to be like a lot of moving parts But I know I got a lot of people in the audience or rhythm who's going to help me out So Can hide from a lie, but we can still have good times and god no dress code god No, then you guys can follow me with the beat so I'm really happy to bring it full circle I usually do it my brother who is on stage doing another play of mine. Um, so this is a little excerpt from our show lack on lack Can run from a gun can hide from a lie, but we can still have good time run from a gun can hide from a lie But we can still have put your wings in the air got a whole lot of sky got a deep foot when his knee is repaired Hope the team is prepared for the season declared one keys in the snare drum I sneezed on a beat the beat said if they step on your dress shoes, let's cover up your sneaks Don't puff up your chest you the toughest we see you your mama did breed you immaculate manners Come let us feed you or rap in his manner puffing with Hebrews like bruntly his family expanding the clan to the grand master Santa than a full house in Ghana we bulls out the pin they bull masking my hand from papa Ass have a masking for half on a daughter run from a gun can hide from a lie But we can still have run from a gun can hide from a lie But we can still have good times ain't got no dress code dead of night the execution of by nonby e cali He loved to me was the equivalent of what I'm gonna give this motherfucker a piece of my mind Can I get to the door act I say in my head play the game He answers the door and I am as pleasant as possible smiling from ear to ear. Ooh, I got him fooled Gonna hit him with so many how dare he he makes me spaghetti in a frying pan mixed with garlic and butter We are peaceful I eat it happily Maybe I won't have to cuss him out today after all Maybe we can be calm and civil and dare I say loving I ask him can we talk? He wants to avoid I push he resists We start to talk More like scream He slaps me I reel dazed He kicks me again. I reel this time fighting in my mind to stay the fuck calm I'm not going to let his ugly win Then he says it bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch I switch His ugliness becomes me slugs me so I can barely breathe me because I'm too busy fighting him biting him for my dignity Through the front door. He pushes me Onto Addison street. We spell good old white boy wriggly bill Still he slaps me kicks bitch And no one steps in No one stops this white man my white man My white boyfriend son of a bastard man from slapping a kicking bitch calling little black me flowers flashing lights sirens call yes Po po v oh just from down on ha Within Street. Yes, the cops are here. I will be rescued saved What's the problem sir Sir My raving lunatic white boyfriend becomes suddenly cool Well, officer bloody blah blah blah blah blah blah but blah blah blah blah blah blah blah, blah, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, blah, blah. But not me. I wasn't in the club. Not me. Officer Whitey never once asked little black me what was the problem, ma'am. For my white man's word, Officer Whitey and his cronies swooped down on me like white on rice, me being the rice. My breathing comes shallow quick from the weight of these six white coughs. Quick, I keep screaming, I can't breathe. I can't breathe, I can't breathe. A cop crony shouts back, if you can't breathe, then how can you talk? I panic even more, so much so that even my white man boyfriend tells Beggs, please with the cops, please, sir. She has panic attacks, problems with an irregular heart. Please tell your officer to get off of her. She's only 115 pounds, sir, please. But even his pleas fall on silent ears. The visual of this angry black woman on this must be innocent white man takes over. Cuffs cuff wrists that are now tired and limp from distress. They take my 115 pound cuffed black ass and throw me in the back of the squad car. Cart me off to holding down on Halstead Street, where I am surrounded by more cop cronies. You sure are a cute little thing, they say. I can't believe you hit a cop, bit a cop. They say, you're just too damn cute, they say. I get scared. Anything can happen. They could beat me, rape me, kill me. I choose my words carefully. But officer, I say, through whispered tears. I didn't do anything. They sat on top of me. Six cops sat on top of me. I couldn't breathe. No knock, or Thanksgiving in St. Louis, 2014, by Calamity West. Late Thanksgiving night, Enid sits in her bedroom reading. She's wearing pajamas. After a moment, Amanda enters. She is wearing pajamas and is slightly intoxicated. I'm trying to sleep, please leave. You're not sleeping, you're reading. Amanda struggles to stand for a moment, decides to take a seat on the floor. Are you drunk? It's Thanksgiving, everyone's drunk. I'm not drunk. Yeah, that's because you're boring. Enid goes back to reading. Amanda takes Enid's book and casually tosses it across the room. Why did you do that? Enid rises and snatches her book. Because I'm bored and you're never here? Come on, let's talk. Talk to me. Fine. What do you want to talk about? What do you think about a white person adopting a black baby? Are you the white person adopting the black baby? Does that change your opinion? What? Yes, of course. You'd be a terrible mother. That's a shitty thing to say. You asked my opinion. I was asking about interracial adoption. I can't believe you know what interracial means. You're so elitist. Thank you. Enid goes back to reading. Amanda paces the room. I'm thinking about adopting a black baby from Ferguson. You're just saying that to piss me off. No, I'm not. I mean it. I want to feel like I'm making a difference. I want to do something. Then why aren't you out protesting? It's literally 15 minutes from here. It's more than 15 minutes. Everything is 15 minutes away from each other in St. Louis. I am not talking about St. Louis. I am talking about Ferguson. It's the same thing. No, they're not. They absolutely are. You haven't lived here in 10 years, so you have no idea what you're talking about. Well, as far as I can recall, in the 20 years that I did live here, they were always the same thing until this happened. Is that what you're telling everybody back in Chicago? Yes, everyone. We're all very close. I'm actually going to go tweet about it right now just to make sure everyone heard me say it at last week's meeting. Fuck you, you're so fucking obnoxious. You should take that aggression to the streets. To the streets? What, are you black now? No, I'm just reasonable. Are you saying that black people aren't reasonable? That is not what I said, and you know it. Why did you tell mom that we're not allowed to talk about black people around your new boyfriend? Because you're racist, and it's embarrassing. I am not a racist. I teach at a public school. Oh. I didn't know the two things were mutually exclusive. You sound like a liberal robot. You know that. And you sound like a racist. I am telling mom and dad that you think we're racist. Fine, see if I care. Fine. Fine. Amanda begins to exit. OK, wait. Don't do that. I'm sorry that I called you a racist. Don't be, it's what you think. No, it's not. Yes, it is. Please don't tell them I said that. Are you scared that if they knew you called them racist, they wouldn't give you money anymore? They don't give me money? Then why can't I tell them you said that? Because I don't want to hurt their feelings. You think they actually care what you think? You wouldn't have used that threat to begin with if you didn't think they cared about what I thought. Do you think a prodigal daughter can be prodigal if she never left home to begin with? Are you talking about you? Well, don't say things like that. Makes me sad, even if you are drunk. You're so dramatic. So fucking dramatic. Just like those protesters, just like that kid. He had a name. Yeah, I know his name, and I'm not going to say. I'm not talking about this with you. He was being dramatic. That's what got him killed. If he had just minded his own fucking business. You think you're so radical now, don't you? Because you don't live here? Because you live in a big city? Because you're a writer who listens to rap music? You think I'm sad? No, no, no, no, no. You are the one who's sad, and you know it. I am. I am deeply, deeply sad. I always knew how racist this place was. Even before I knew there was a word for it. Growing up, I could see the oppression literally wearing on faces. Like you were around black people when you were a kid. I could see the segregation. I could see the hatred. And then this happened. But it's not just the incident that's shaken me. It's the naming of the incident. I never imagined a place could exist that was so racist, so strategic, so political that it could convince the entire world that what happened there didn't happen there at all, but in this faraway place called Ferguson. But that divorce of county lines had to happen, didn't it? Because if it didn't, everyone in St. Louis would be forced to see exactly what they are. Even you. And then you'd have to change. And that would not only be the most dramatic thing that could happen. But the most dynamic. This whole thing is embarrassing. It breaks my fucking heart. You think you're quite the poet, don't you? No. I wish I was smart enough to be a poet. I think I'd say all this a lot better if I were. I'm telling mom and dad what you said. I wish you'd never come home for Thanksgiving. Enjoy your book. Amanda exits. He knit his left along. And when we speak, we are afraid our words will not be heard nor welcomed. But when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak, remembering we were never meant to survive. Audre Lorde. When it is the police, we remain silent. When it is rape, we remain silent. When it is someone famous, someone popular, someone powerful, we remain silent. Of all rape victims, we have the right to require silence because we think no one is innocent, not even the innocent, not ever the victims. We make them complicit. We are told when we are young who we can go to to feel safe. Tell the police. Tell your teacher. Tell your preacher. Who do you tell when those charged with your protection, those tasked to give you service, slide their badges over your body, shove their chalk down your throat, get you drunk on the blood of Jesus, and tell you that your silence will protect you. The numbers tell me that nothing will protect me or you, like how since 1976, 1,394 people have been executed on death row. But over 14,000 have been murdered by police. Like how sexual misconduct is the second highest form of police brutality. Like how you're more likely to get raped by a cop than someone on the street. Like how Oklahoma City police officer Daniel Holtzclaw can face over 32 charges of first degree rape, forcible sodomy, and sexual battery, and still get freed on bail, and still get thousands in donations because him getting punished for raping black women is seen as the real injustice. Like how 51% of all sexual violence committed by police is against minors. Like how 60% of black women get raped before they turn 18. Like how every woman I know has either been raped, or her sister, or her mama, or her daughter, or her friend, or her cousin, or her coworker has been raped. Like how men get raped, but no one ever wants to talk about that because we don't even like to talk about women getting raped. Like how children get raped, but no one ever wants to talk about that because we don't even want to talk about anyone getting raped. Like how sex is the weapon when it comes to rape, not the actual point, because rape is hardly ever come and hardly ever close to justice with thousands of untested rape kits languishing in basements of police stations nationwide. Why? And by talking about rape when I am supposed to be talking about how we can't breathe. This PTSD takes my breath away. Takes my days, turns them into tears. Takes my joys, turns them into tears. Takes and takes and takes and takes my light until I swallow darkness of silence to keep the kind of sanity that makes everyone else more comfortable than I will ever be. I have never been able to breathe. I hold my stomach and unintentionally have held it in for decades trying to hold myself together, held it in so long that it hurts to pee, to sing, to sleep, to speak. Everyone tells me that my silence will protect me, just like the police are supposed to protect me. Just like the church should be my sanctuary, just like schools and workshops and poetry were supposed to liberate me, but I still can't breathe because the movement ain't trying to get me free. When rape is so pervasive that those trying to uplift the masses do their best to try to uplift some asses then press fingers into screams saying, just move with me, not against me, saying, keep this our secret. No one will believe you anyway. Gluttons for power will always gorge themselves on those they perceive as weak. What is most terrifying to the powerful is the weak realizing their strength. There is no keeping of secrets when the dead are resurrected through the anger of the living. There is no keeping of secrets when the raped find their justice in the telling of what happened. There is no keeping of the secret that the system of America was built between the thighs of captured, dark women built inside the grooves of bloodied, black backs built on top of bones, red and feathered with colonizing cruelty when the desecrated begin to assess the damage. Demand what was stolen be returned. Demand what was broken be repaired. Demand what was destroyed be restored. Demand what was betrayed be reconciled by the awful searing truth and the breath will demand its rightful place. The breath will command its rightful space to matter, to shatter this silence that will never protect us. We matter, black lives matter and so we must breathe. Schizophrenia Americana by Marcus Gardley. A black man sits on a bare stage rocking back and forth. He is probably schizophrenic. His clothes are stained and worn out. It looks like remnants of an army uniform or perhaps he was a mailman. He is unkempt, mumbles to himself. Around his arms lies a spanking brand new American flag. The contrast to his appearance and the flag is startling. He speaks. He becomes a variety of characters. His voice changes as does his body. He is the voice of the country, the human zeitgeist. This is his diagnosis. Older black man. I saw it. Saw the whole thing from my window. Saw it and haven't told nobody. It ain't edifying. We'll take it to my grave. We'll die with it in my throat like a terminal cancer. Won't tell a soul. Well, maybe just you since you're here. As long as you don't tell nobody. I tell you now, but only because I can't breathe. Got to tell somebody so I can get this weight off my chest. This burden. Can you hold it for me? For a breath? Here it is. The whole truth from every side. Older black woman. That boy Brown wasn't bothering nobody. He was holding a cigarette, just being a boy and black and young and that cop, that officer, gonna drive up and get on that boy and his friend for walking in the streets. Now it used to be when I was growing up, white folks didn't want them on the sidewalk, especially when a white woman passed, but now they don't want us in the streets. It make you feel like some folks don't want us on the planet. So the brown boy tells the cop, the officer he doesn't give an F. Woo, the mouse on these children. He says he doesn't give an F and the officer, the cop gets mad and swears his car around to block Brown and his friend. Then Brown slams the car door shut on the officer and goes to punching the officer through the car window. That's when I knew this was an end, well, a gun goes off. I think the brown boy was shot, so he walks away from the car, but I didn't see no blood, not yet. But then the cop, the officer, gets out of the car and Brown stops. Now this was the strange thing. Brown hears the officer out of the vehicle and he stops. He just stops there and you can see on that boy's face that he is afraid. That brown boy, he looked like something to turn around, told him to turn around to save his own life, so he does. Brown turns around and charges at the officer and the cop can't see the fear in Brown's eyes, so he reels that boy's body with enough bullets to spark a fourth of your lawyer. Oh Lord, I screamed. Now if you hear the cop tell it, he'll tell you that that boy looked like a monster, but I'm here to tell you that that boy looked like a boy. But the officer couldn't see no boy, not really see him, because he couldn't see past that boy's skin. He made that boy into a monster because he was afraid. In fact, fear made fools of both these men, but one got put into the dirt and the other, he got wings. Asian-American man. I saw it, I saw the entire thing unfold. You see my shop is across the street and I'll be frank, although my name is O'Dell, I have put in quite a few complaints to the police department about people laudering near my business. I sell shoes, my shoes, floor shines, you should come by, try on up here. You see, me and a few of the other local business owners on the street are trying to attract a certain type of clientele and well, you know, nobody's racist here. We're living on Staten Island. This is the shit crack in New York City. People only come here when they get lost on the way to the Statue of Liberty, so you know, cut us some slack. I mean, I didn't know Mr. Ghana well, I know his face and no, they shouldn't have put him in the chokehold so I'm pissed about that, you know? But these guys, these officers are good people. I mean, let's tell the whole truth. What happened was bad, but were not bad people. Now like I said, I saw it. I saw them get testy with Mr. Ghana for selling the cigarettes. And you can tell they're about to take him down because it's a hell of a lot of them, officers, and they're getting closer to him. It's kind of like the Discovery Channel when the lions circle around the antelopes. So they jump on him and it's hard to watch. I mean, you've seen the video. It sends chills every time. But what I see, and this is the strange thing, I see Mr. Ghana reach his hand out. And I know he's not like resistant to rest, it's like he sees something and he's trying to grab it. He just reaches his hand out. Like he wants to grab a hold of this one thing. At first I thought he needs something so he doesn't fall, but even after they have him on the ground, I still see his hand reaching out and I think, oh, maybe he wants to show them that his hands are empty, but they are still choking him and then you hear him say, you know, because I'm outside of the shop but it's boring and you can hear him. Well, we all heard him say, beg in that raspy voice that he can't, and even after I realized that he's probably dead, I can still see his hand reaching. His whole body is just lying there, frozen, but the hand is reaching. Something must have told him to reach out to save his own life, but they couldn't see it. See him reaching. How could they not see him? White male police officer. People don't see what we see, okay? That's the luxury you have. You, you don't have to see. You don't wear the blue so you don't know. How could you? For all the people that get killed, unfortunately, accidentally by us, by cops, for all the people that we hurt, we save hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands, but there are no medals for that. You wanna have a real discussion, let's break this down to its bone. You don't see all the fallen soldiers, the officers that we laid to rest year after year who die in the line of duty, who die trying to serve and protect you. No one mourns them, but there's widows and children and us who wear the blue. But we don't get a march in the street. We don't get t-shirts made for us. No athlete is wearing our names on the court. We face bullets every other fucking day and you're trying to tell me because of a few times we stumble, you wanna march on our necks. I got a job to do, that's how I see it. I got a situation to assess. And my number one goal is to get out alive and get my partner out alive. These thugs, these men, they try us. Y'all need to fucking understand, we're not playing. You need to do what we tell you to do and if you resist, if you put your dick on the fucking table, so will we, that's procedure. And we come hard, much harder than you. We pack heat, cause this is war and we owe it to ourselves, to our families to live. So if we use excessive force, it is for our own protection. We are in fact serving you. I'm not saying what those officers did was right cause like I can't really comment on what I really feel about that shit because at the end of the day, those are men of my brothers, but look, bottom line. No, we're not seeing you. We're not seeing these men. Is it because they're black? Yeah, maybe. But that doesn't make us racists. Hell, the whole fucking country is scared of them. Look at the way they treat the fucking president because he's black. This country is sick, been sick and we thought electing him would make us well. But if you ask me, it was just a bandaid placed around on a war wound. Now the war wound is seeping blood, folks are in pain. But I still gotta do my job. I don't get paid to use my heart. I get paid to protect it. White woman. My African-American friend is named Keisha. And yes, that's like really her name so I'm not being culturally insensitive or whatever. She's Keisha Renee Jackson. And like she unfriended me on Facebook yesterday and I'm really distraught behind it. Not because she unfriended me, although like really Keisha, you only got like 70 friends girls so like you can't really afford to lose anybody right now, but whatever. But like that's not why I'm really upset. It's like, cause I was commenting on her post cause Keisha like always had these really deep posts about her culture and I know she was really upset about the verdict or indictment or what I have here. This was I. So she puts on her post that she can't breathe and I respond, neither can I. And she responds, yes you can cause you're white-bicking. I'm like, okay, what does my skin have to do with my not being able to breathe? I can't breathe Keisha, I'm an ally. And then Keisha replies, bye Felicia and just unfriended me. And I'm like, first of all, my name is not Felicia Keisha. And second, I'm like, what did I say to upset her? Sometimes I feel like, no matter what I do, I'm like walking on eggshells around her, you know? It's like, I'm constantly trying to convince her that I'm not a racist, which of course makes me look like a racist cause I'm always over apologizing for shit. So one day we're out buying makeup at the Mac count and I tell Keisha that I think the makeup she wants to buy is too light for her skin. And when I get halfway through the sentence, I realize that what I'm saying is kind of fucked up and so I just started apologizing and Keisha grabs me like in the store, like in front of everybody and says, I know you're not a fucking racist, you're my bitch girl, so stop tripping. I'm not mad that you have racial tendencies. I'm mad that you have white privilege. And when she's telling me this, I'm looking into her eyes and I can see that she's hurting and she starts to cry a little and I cry a whole lot and my new mascara is running down my face but I see her, you know? I like really see her but more than that, I see myself. I look in the mirror to wipe my face and I see myself and I get it. It's like, it hits me like a fucking ton of brick. Like, it's not just about race. Racism is ignorance but privilege, privilege is like everything in this country is built to benefit others because of the way they look and that's why these offices get off. That's why they can't even get indicted because they have privilege. Not only are they white, which affords them the right to see these men only as monsters but these offices were blue uniforms which affords them the right to kill and not even be tried, let alone found guilty. So they are like white and blue which makes them like smirks and shit, like they're all magical and shit and I'm like, when the fuck did this happen? When did this country become like a nation where people could just be murdered without any recourse and I quickly realized it's always been this way. That was the strange thing. I forgot. Nothing has changed. The truth is I can breathe and so can you. So we need to speak. We must, we must use our breath to scream and Facebook is not the place to do that well. So I just deleted my Facebook account, put on a warm coat, made a sign and went out to protest because I want the cops to see me. I want them to see us. Young black man. Can you see me? Well look down, soon and very soon I will be dead. I am lying in the street somewhere in these United States unable to speak, looking up at the vast night sky while blood seeps from my trembling body. Look at me good. I am your war wound. A second ago I was shot in the heart by a police officer. He thought I had a gun or thought I was resisting arrest or thought I was the incredible Hulk or thought I was going to run or thought I didn't have the same value as his own son so he put a bullet in me. He couldn't see me. He chose not to. And although his indictment will not bring me back to life he still should serve time for using a deadly weapon while being socially blind. His uniform should not be a stay out of jail free card. He should have served and protected me from himself. And I just want you to know before I bleed to death that I don't wanna be anybody's victim or martyr. I simply want my death to save another life. So don't be sad. Don't give my mama money to feed your bleeding heart. Instead, please, I beg you, get angry. Make demands. Harass your mayor, your congressperson, your president until they feel the weight of your rage and change laws. March for me in the streets, stain with my blood and let tires of guns and bullets burn on every corner to light my visual. Then if you have some faith left, scream my name to a loving God until the earth trembles, until you can't breathe and your voice box cracks inside your throat, at least until one night goes by in this country where another body does not become a casualty on the evening news. Look at me. See me now. Look deep. Aren't I worth a million stars? I am not a face hidden in a hoodie, a ruffian with a rebellious past, a rap lyric, a hustler hanging with the wrong crowd, a hoodlin' with his pants down to his knees, a crackhead or a felon. Look deeper. I am not your greatest fear. Look me in the eyes. I am you. I just wanna say how necessary this was in my spirit tonight. So thank y'all. That was beautiful. Before I begin, tangibly, right now in the city of Chicago, there's over 200 people who look like me who are tortured by a Chicago ex-officer named John Burge. Right now, there's a group of organizers trying to pass an ordinance to get those folks reparations, which includes not only money, but a center on the south side for mental health so they can deal with that torture that they faced, educational opportunities and so on and so on. And so right now, what we're trying to do very soon is get a hearing and we need Rahm Emmanuel to sign on to give that hearing to the ordinance which all the ornament have signed on to. I say this tonight because people who look like me, Rahm has shown time and time again that he doesn't care about us. And so we need folks in his constituency and I don't blame, I don't judge you if you may have or have or will vote for him. But he needs to hear you call in and demand this ordinance. And so the numbers online to the mayor's office, you could call tonight, you could call tomorrow, you could call every day until we get that hearing. I just work. This poem is called When Black Boys Are Killed on the West Side, the first responder is late. The first response isn't anger. There is no protest, no one to be in opposition of. No one to fight the uncrumpling of hollow. No black Paul Revere shouting, the Klan is coming, no curtain to peek through or rightful to grab. Cleaning up the blood, no rightful to grab. No ice bucket challenge, only bucket boys sounding another funeral possession. When a black boy is killed on the south side, there is no time to waste cleaning up the blood when you are building trauma centers in your own living room, the windows drilled shut, trying to repair, gone. When black boys are killed on the west side, there is still and always fuck the police. There is no time to waste finding who done it, your grandma will have her suspicions. She will suspect whom she always does, the devil. Throw her hands up to God and whisper worship in her pot of greens she cooked for the repass. The teleprompter won't mention how she stacked memorials in her apron, won't call that activism. When black boys get killed on the west side, we won't blame the loose bootstrap. When America stole the boot, we won't disagree with being strapped. We will back in Mumia and Asada to guide the misdirected aim. When black boys get killed on the west side, there is no, there are no marching orders. Urgency doesn't call us to the trenches, summon us to gear up. We know this was never a war amongst ourselves, but we need to fight together against politicians who swipe our clinics, schools, jobs, police, who take our taxes to kill our children. When black boys are killed on the west side, we twisted martyrdom, taking each other's lives before the world does, searching for the heaven our grandmas devote themselves to. When black boys are killed on the west side, we conjure up the shredding of kin, replenish the pantry ransacked, we plant seeds, a shared crop. When the black boys are killed on the west side, the first response is the forest trying to convince the axe it is wood. The pot is calling the kettle black. The pot is calling to say they are setting us on fire. The pot is suffocating. The pot is calling, screaming, stop! We are birth, both burning. Do you all feel the energy in here tonight? So this next component to our programming is something that's gonna be about 30 to 45 minutes long and it's probably the most important part of this evening. But before I introduce our moderator, I wanna take a quick second and thank all of our playwrights, our poets, and our performers one more time. I'm trying to get this unconnected for our mod. Oh, there we go. Thank you for your gift. Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to bring a dear friend and colleague of mine to the stage. He's gonna sort of explain it, but how this conversation will go and we'll moderate this dialogue. Very quickly, this will also happen via Twitter. These two wireless mics are gonna be run up and down the stairs for you to respond to the things that we want to discuss that as a collective want to discuss in response to all of this. So ladies and gentlemen, please help me welcome to the stage my dear friend from Congo Square, Samuel Roberson. I'm wasting time. Hey everyone. I am really honored and grateful to be here to moderate this conversation with you all. I think, as I said, all of the beautiful words that we needed tonight, along with these wonderful performers and playwrights and poets. And so I'm just gonna keep it real for a second. We only have about 30 minutes to have this conversation. And so, I just wanna lay out some ground rules so we can have a productive conversation. First, you know, there's this, we see it on the billboards. We see it on the buses. See something, say something. I think there's one more component, right? And that is, amen, we are all on the same page. Okay, so do something, right? So tonight is about action. This is a call to action. This is not about talking about feelings, all right? You've all done that on Twitter, Facebook, everywhere, we've seen it, we've read it. This is about action. This is about what do we do now? So I also wanna just ask people to be respectful. I hope this is not about getting on a soap box. If you are on one, I might stop you, tell you I love you, but it's time to get off, yes? All right, great. So first we just wanna talk about what you just saw. Talking about action, do something. What is resonating with you? Any lines, words, visuals? What is resonating with you as an audience right now? Anyone, be brave. I think the one thing that really, anytime that I come to any type of thing like this, is when things are linked to Disney and ABC, and I'm like, holy shit, it's me. I'm just as much of an issue as everyone else has, and it's nice to be able to remember that and then know that I can change that. So thank you. Absolutely. Anyone else, anything that's just sticking with you from what you heard? Pafirah, can you put some of the mic in here? This brother, forgive me for not knowing your name in the blue. I think that you just really captured everything when you went into the end of your poem, talking about all lives matter, trans black lives. I mean, when you said all black lives matter, trans black lives, women black lives, because I think for so long it's sometimes separated, and we rally when they're a black man whom we love and we adore, but the truth is yes, all black lives matter, and if we could just continue to rally not just when black lives were taken unjustly, but all black lives, then I think that we're on our way to a better start, a better progress. Absolutely. One of my biggest struggles right now is trying to talk to my privileged friends and get them to see that they, I guess, should not choose silent, should not choose apathy, and that's often a hard conversation, and I think when I was watching three piece first song, I was like, all my white friends need to see this. All my privileged friends need to see this because it was just I think a beautiful way to break it down, the cycle of theft, I guess, and criminals higher up on the chain, just given birth to other crimes, and then, but they're not the ones being punished, only the ones at the bottom of the chain being punished, so that was amazing, and I continued to look for ways to have those conversations successfully, so any help, please, please. Absolutely, I mean, art has a way of doing that, right? So art has a way of looking at something from a perspective, allowing us to see details, see ways to communicate, see ways to talk to our friends in a way that might make things more palatable, because telling them they have privilege and that's not okay, might not go over so well. I'm gonna go to the back to our Twitter feed. Yes, this is from a Twitter user on what's resonating with them, trans black lives matter, women black lives matter, old black lives matter, all black lives matter. Come on! Man, I almost hopped out of my seat. Man, if you didn't hit them all, that's what we're talking about, right? We're talking about black lives matter. We're talking about something that is a specific epidemic. This is a systemic problem that we are having, and I think that all of these people up here, these playwrights, touched on that, and I wanna shift the question to what was effective about what they did. We're all, well, we brought a lot of artists in the room, so what was effective about what they were doing and how might that be different than what you might be seeing on TV or what's happening in the streets? What was, what might be effective, what moved me is the possibility of doing something about reparations for the people tortured by Joan Burge. And if we could come back to that and be a little more specific about what we can do when we walk out of here, that would be a help. I'm gonna write that down, yes. Back to what you previously said as to what do we do. Like, what was most effective to me in what bothers me as a black woman is the idea that the black man himself is a weapon. He doesn't need anything. Just being black, like how you said. They see us as a gorilla. They see us as this King Kong type figure that is gonna cause this destruction and I don't even know what you do about that. I don't know what you do that you in trousers and a shirt walking down the street is a weapon. And that it bothers me innately. It makes me wanna cry. And Sammy, I don't know what you do. Like, if anybody can say what do you do about being yourself is a weapon that causes people to shoot you, tell us, because I don't know what you do with that. Absolutely, yes. Nikki really moved me. I'm a big woman's AAUW, et cetera, person. I feel like we've been trying to do something for decades and I wish we could figure out something to do that would really matter. So let's talk about that, yeah? Let's talk about what can we do? What is our responsibility as artists, as people in this room, right? We have a room filled with power, with very powerful people, with very strongly, with strong artists. What is our responsibility? What can we do? Well, I think you did it tonight. To all of the artists on stage, there was so much truth and poetry and art in what you presented. It's very powerful. I thank you so much. It was, in my opinion, revolutionary. Please continue. It's very important. I think that what you should do is hit them where it hurts and that's money. If you really want to change things, you really want to get people on your side, you need to hit them where it hurts and that's taking away their freedom, stop making them comfortable. But if we really want to do something, we have to realize that we are going to have to sacrifice our comfortable lives, phones, cameras, whatever it is that we have that makes us feel comfortable, clothes, food, whatever it is, and realize that you're going to have to take some liberties away in order to be able to gain a sense of freedom. So now you're calling out specific things. We're talking about touching on capitalism, right? So what can we do as artists then to make that happen? Yes, we have one here. Yeah. I think that we constantly need to challenge everything that we read, everything that we see, everything that we hear, but be a vessel, be willing to listen, be willing to encourage each other, be willing to give space. And I want to thank you guys for making this opportunity happen so that we're all in witness to something that is beautiful, that's created out of tragedy, beautiful that's created out of hurt, out of shame, out of fear, out of confusion. And yeah, I think that if we constantly challenge ourselves to ask questions, and I think I'm going to challenge myself right now, I have a question about- Come on, come on with it. I'm listening. I enjoyed all of the pieces very much, but I have a very interesting question with Schizophrenia America, Americana. Schizophrenia Americana. All right, that piece really challenged me a lot. It's forcing me to understand the fact that we hear all of these, we hear so many tidbits, right? In the media we hear like, this happened, and I saw this, or Michael Brown did this, or that wasn't true, or this wasn't true, and it's how do you know really what happened? And we may never know, we may never truthfully know, but what I do know is being a black and brown body in this country, there is a stigma, and that's unshakable, that is evident. And that is something that we need to constantly be aware of and be okay to talk about, be okay to say, hey man, like how do you feel truthfully? I love you. Thank you. Thank you. Absolutely, I'm not, yes, yes, Anne, right? We are having these conversations. These are very important conversations, and I just want to take a quick poll really fast. Do we have our Twitter? Yeah, well I'm gonna take one from Twitter, because that's my job, and then we'll move on. I have a quick poll of the audience. Okay, Twitter user Jessica says, are we preaching to the choir? Don't we need work like this in places where it's scarce, where it is revolutionary? Woo! Yes, okay, question of the day. Are we preaching to the choir? What I want to ask, and what I want to pull the audience about is how many of you have taken part in the actions that have been happening in Chicago? Raise your hand. How many people have not been taken part in the actions in Chicago? Raise your hand. That seems like a lot of people. So if we're preaching to the choir, we're not preaching to a very active choir. So, I don't say that to put anyone down. I just say that because somebody said, are we dead? America, we are dead, right? I think he said, let's march, let's write, let's fight. Yes? So how are we going to find our way in? For those people that have not been a part of the protests of the things, the actions happening in Chicago, what has stopped you from joining the movement and taking to the streets? That's my question. What has stopped you from doing it? Because all of these people up here want to help you get to there. Want to help you get to the streets, yes? Sorry, I can't see who has the mic, so. I just wanted to get back to, I'm sorry to change what you just asked. What was so effective, what the artist did, was I thought restore the humanity behind the cries that are happening all around the country. It's been twisted in that it's just pure anger and it keeps being said that it's just a thuggish cry from these poor people, these people that don't matter. And you guys, I thought as artists, and our job as artists, is to restore the humanity behind the message. Bring back that middle part of black lives, that life. Like restore that vital energy. That's what art can do on a universal basis. You guys all spoke about something universal, something that we can take to people, that they cannot just sit there and be like, that doesn't matter. You cannot deny humanity. So thank you guys for doing that. I thought it was beautiful. To bring it back to what you just asked, it was a beautiful speech, by the way. What personally stopped me is someone who struggles with mental health, with someone who's struggled with sex trauma, with someone who's struggled with police violence. It's hard for me to feel like I can put my body in the forefront when it's constantly attacked every minute, every second, every hour of the day, every year, before I was even a concept, when I was still an egg inside my mother's womb. So for me, what's also been really beautiful is to recognize that sometimes you do need to protect the self-health, the self-awareness, and to protect that mental sanity that is so important that gets forgotten and lost in the chaos, and to remember that there are in fact little ways that we can participate. Like as an art maker, an art thinker, I try to bring these into these spaces that I work in. I try to be as uncomfortable as possible to recognize that those feelings are real, and I'm not disengaged, that I'm not a victim of social media, a victim of just silence. Trying to remember that those are things that are still possible for me to do, but how I make change doesn't necessarily always fit into protesting or fit into active rage because that's unsettling and can be a trigger for anybody in this room. So that has been my hindrance, but also has been my self-awareness in trying to challenge me to figure out ways to infiltrate the system in other venues. Yep. Hey everyone. How's it going? One of the questions that was asked was, how can we use art as an effective way of working on this? One of the projects that I'm working on is surviving the mic, and the concept behind it is very simple. Once a month, a group of us gather, we bounce between the south side and the north side, we have two permanent venues, and we just gather either at my house or Mojde's house, and people come in and they read their work and they talk about what they're surviving through, and it's all kinds of trauma. Another one of my folks in the audience, Alexandra, hosted a night at her house where we just did a whole night of domestic violence pieces. One of the reasons why I started this is that these are the stories that people are so uncomfortable with. That when you take it to an open mic, when you take it to a public space, it's the kind of stuff that people don't wanna listen to, oh, you're depressing me, oh, you're bringing me down, but that stuff, the hard stuff, the complicated stuff, the narratives that are not simple, that are not easy, that are not media-friendly, that is what art is for. So I would encourage everyone in this room to figure out ways to gather together, host a reading at your house, host an art-making event at your house, put a bunch of materials on a table, and just put on some music, get that new DiAngelo album, and just get some wine and collage together, and talk about all of this stuff. That's, I think that being together, as somebody who can't, I can't get out in March. I have a young 17-month-old son, so I can't do it, and I'm an organizer by day. So every single day of my life, I'm talking rape and police brutality and all of that for eight, 10, 12, 14 hours a day. But one of the things that I can do is make space safe for people. I can hold people. I can look at people. I can believe people, and they do the same for me. So. Church, knowledge. We have one in the center, somewhere. Thanks. There was a tremendous amount of truth that has come through here from many different angles. On the question of what to do, I wanna pose it around the second word of the theme. We must breathe. I think we have to take the word must and pledge that it will happen, that all these things will end. We're at the start of an upsurge, an awakening that's going on, and there's tremendous amount of truth coming out. There's tremendous amount of questioning coming out. We have to follow this path, figure out what it's actually gonna take and be committed to do what it's gonna take to put an end to that. Everybody got a flyer about a dialogue with Cornell West and Bob Avakin. That's one place to go in terms of what it's gonna take. But my point is we have to be true to it must end. All right. Yes, yes, yes. So you asked the question, why didn't you get involved? And I'm from Chicago, but I've been living in Portland and I didn't participate there. And the reason being, and I think this is probably true for most everybody who didn't participate were the reasons that I had to not. I'm in graduate school, I have finals, I have papers to write, I need to sleep. And those are my reasons and they're valid and y'all have reasons and they're valid, but that doesn't, they're valid in that they're reasons but they're what stop us from taking action. And so for me what I see me personally, what moves me to action is the humanity and what I really got connected to, what I've always been connected to when I move to take action is getting connected with the humanness of what's happening. And it can be hard with the media because it's all, it just becomes these like blips of, these are people, they're lives, but we don't actually get connected to the emotion and the people, their lives, their communities are affected in that the world and the trajectory of where we're going is affected. And so one way to do that is through art, which is what you guys have done and I was deeply moved by many of the pieces. But not everybody is gonna be moved by that and continuing to do art and continuing to have conversations with your friends about humanity and people being connected. So that's my little bit. And I think if this movement is about anything, it's about humanity, right? Is that understood? I hope it is. I truly, Twitter world, HowlRound, I hope we all are on the same page about that. Right here. Yeah, I just wanna kind of give a yes and to what you had just said about having these local ways to just inhibit these stories and getting more things that break away from what we're seeing in the media, the main media. And I even wanna go deeper with that. I'm a filmmaker and I think that what we're seeing day to day even just like through the commercials and through the advertising and what this bread and circus that we're constantly being drawn to kind of steering away. I wanna kind of, I guess as a way that we can use our art to make a statement is just to kind of be that host and just to try to get away so that we can use our art to, I'm sorry, I have all these thoughts in my head and I need to put them in the back of my hand. I guess if we as a collective use our art to be what the media right now isn't and to kind of, and what's great about this event is that it's not just in this auditorium that it's being seen all around which I love and I want this more to happen. I want people to tune into these stories all around instead of just clicking on the TV and seeing all of this capitalist shit. I want it to be something deeper and so hopefully there's a way that we can invest in that and that we can keep making this work and that we can start local and then we can act global and that it can be these small stories, these small collective things, but that it can go much bigger so that we're constantly talking about this, that we're constantly sharing these stories, that even though it's uncomfortable, that even though it will hurt, there's that time for restoration and that we can repair. So thank you for this and that is so global. I love you. I'll be brief, but I think the tie between artistry and activism is nuance and so I think what we have to do is really think about, I've heard a lot of dialogue about well, why aren't we going to the streets and we haven't taken it to the street? As someone with an invisible disability, I am relying on my brothers and sisters who are on the street to march for me as well. And so what I do as an artist, as an activist, as someone who works day after day in higher education with multicultural students, I've had to get quiet with myself and say okay, in artistry there's nuance, in activism there's nuance, so what can I do? I'm not quite sure what we can do, but I know I can add my voice to the collective and kind of make sure that it's an empowering voice. At the last poem kind of talked about someone's grandma and making the grains for the vigil and that act of care is an act of activism. And so I think we have to really redefine how we see activism and what that truly is. So I want to go to Twitter. Okay, Twitter, one Twitter user says, art can restore the humanity of this movement. Another says, occupy your non-ally Facebook friends' pages. Repost poetry and music about the issue. Make your voice heard. Okay, I like that hashtag. Occupy your non-ally Facebook pages. Awesome, yes. I think that activism on the street and marching and protesting, like that's really effective and it's so important and I'm like, I just have undying gratitude for that, but I think people really can also use the internet as a vehicle to spread information and awareness and that's one of the things that I do day in and day out, like 24 hours a day. I'm always on my blog, I'm spreading awareness, I'm talking about racism, I'm talking about sexism, transphobia, homophobia, all of these important topics. And so I think that I know what you mean by like asking us why we're not on the street and I appreciate that because I think that people assume if you're not marching, you're not doing something important but there's so many avenues to share these important stories and experiences with people and I really, I urge people to use the internet as a vehicle to do that, so. I agree, I'm gonna ask a rhetorical question. Who controls the internet? Who controls your Facebook feed? Who controls your Twitter feed? Who controls all the, I'm just, you know, think about that. I think it's awesome but think about that, yes. Hi, I wanted to first thank you all for the wonderful work that you've done. You keep us focused, you keep us on the course, you keep it real in ways that media does not do it. I've been fighting this battle for a long time and I make this very brief. I don't know if any of you remember about six years ago, six years ago an 83-year-old grandmother was tasered by the police department and that happened to have been my grandmother and I fought the good fight. I fought, I stuck by it, I fought all the way, I held them accountable, I can't go into all the details but believe me when I say I held them accountable but one thing I noticed about the media at the time is they spent a lot of time redirecting people. It started becoming an issue where people were angry with me and my mom for well, why did they leave her alone? Well, where was the family? Well, nobody stopped to think about the fact that even though she had a mental illness she still had her civil rights so we couldn't just make her go here or move her there. We had to go and legally fight to become her guardians but the media just misdirected, just kept taking people back to blaming us and nobody started stopping and thinking why would a sergeant or large police officers have to deal with an 83-year-old grandmother who's on a two-step and a cane by tasering her? They just totally left that. So I said all that to say this, what you guys do is you keep it real. You keep it really real and I appreciate that. We know we're gonna get it straight up from you, no misdirection and I love you for that, thank you. Absolutely. I'm gonna shift into the last kind of segment. I know we only have a few minutes left but do we have a responsibility as artists? How are we going to motivate and engage with bystanders? And how are we gonna hold each other accountable for these occurrences of injustice and inequality? And I'd like to ask, honestly, there was some beautiful work up here. Some people shared, poured out their hearts. Who in this room was motivated to act? Feels like they were motivated to do something. That's what I wanna know. I wanna know how many people in this room were motivated to do something. I think that's what we do as artists. We make the revolution sexy. Yeah, by telling truth in our creative ways. Well, I love that you're speaking about what artists can do and I think we can also incorporate everybody in that. Everybody's an artist in a sense and one of the things that we can do is right now money is power and we can take that power back to the people and we can go to www.wolf-pack.com and take money out of politics and really ring in that power and every single one of you has access to the internet and you can go on there and figure out what you can do on a state level. You can call everybody in your governor, your mayor, your alderman, every single person can do that. It's not just artists, everybody can do that because we, the people, have to come together as a community and that also means you can get into your communities and find out what projects are going on. Especially in black communities, what great projects are going on in Chicago and what can you do to donate your time, your talent and your money to and that's one of the biggest things as a community we need to come back and regain our power in all those different areas. That's all. Absolutely. Good evening. All of the pieces were very touching but one that really stood out was Cap and I Believe with the black hat on. Is that your name? Cool. When your poetry actually kind of incited me and in a good way, it was beautiful but it made me think about America the broken, America the dead. When I keep thinking about America supposed to be the home of the free and the brave, the land of the opportunity, America the beautiful and so what can we do and this is what getting together like this does as an actor and a playwright myself, I keep thinking and as a teacher, I want to educate my students but I also want to educate my children and that's where we can start is educating our children to know that yes, this is the ugly face of America but America is the land of the opportunity. America is the home of the free and the land of the brave and it's up to us to make sure that we see that through not only for ourselves today but for our children tomorrow and so it's our job to make sure that our children are coming to things like this, seeing this, seeing plays, seeing poetry and making sure that they realize the true faces of America but then that they do something to make the America that we all believed in, the America that everybody fights to come to, the America that everybody wants to be at and so your poetry, I loved it but it incited me because it's not the America that I want to remember as. I want to remember the America the beautiful. So how do we then take this kind of work in support of the movements that are out in the streets, right? Do we only have to do it in a theater? Does it have to be contained? How can we take it? Huh, funny. What I was going to say is that actually as artists, so many artists in this room and looking at this entire panel up here of artists, we look at them and we're like, they did such great work and then we talk about, well, this was asked to do for this, was this commissioned to do for this? Were they paid to do for this? How does that work? And then when we're talking about, you know, we're looking at, we're looking at this theater right here, a big theater. There's other big theaters here in this city too. And everyone in this room has the ability to influence those theaters to do work like this that speaks to people. So instead of looking at these seasons that are completely lily white, no offense, we can get things like this on the stage so that they're not just having to do this as something for free to help out because we need it. We all need this. And that's something we can do as artists. Come on, there. Don't hurt him. I need to speak to what America was built on, genocide, Native Americans and slavery and the fact that that truth came out through this art tonight I think is what really inspired people here. But we, that's what we cannot forget. That's what this country was made about. Now I just wanted to say one thing, that people going into the streets, the fact that truth was coming out, you know the other side is trying to change its strategy too and they're going after people, they're going after leaders in the streets. And if that allows us to stop, if that makes us stop, this is a moment in history that, and I think tonight was very historic and I think the way that we were moved and the truth that came off the stage is very moving. And so a system so illegitimate, so horrible to so many people, we've got to keep looking at what that really is and deal with it and that'll give us the power. Absolutely. Right here, Isaac, Isaac, yes. I would like to say as someone who is in the streets and is protesting, please join us. The thing that I experienced at the first protest I was at, the positive, I'll speak of that first, was a greater connection to thousands of Chicagoans, black, white, trans, gay, straight, people I've never met in my life hugging each other, linking arms, laying in the street, if you have something that you're scared of, please join us, you will never feel more lifted up and loved in your entire life than standing alongside people that share that cause with you. The negative side that we must speak to is these police officers that we're protesting. The reason we're in the street is to speak directly to them. Whether it's a white person speaking to them or a black person speaking to them, they're laughing in our faces, they're passing out fun-sized Snickers bars, it is a joke, it is a game to them. The last protest, last Saturday, National Day of Anger, people were out in DC, people were out in New York, the turnout here in Chicago was very small. Please join us, let the Chicago police force who are among the most brutal police forces in the country know that this city will not take it anymore. We are preaching to the choir, I would like to preach directly to them. I think someone needs to tell our mayor, someone needs to tell our police departments that they need mandatory butts in seats, watching pieces like this. Force them, make it a law for them to sit and hear the humanity of these stories. Something could change if we do that. All right. And if you have anything to fear, please make it another loss of a person of color due to police brutality. Please make that your fear and be motivated to do something. I'm from St. Louis, first of all. And I wanna go back to the non-allied people. Yep, I lost my job because of it, because I would go to work and talk about, I went to the protest, this is what you need to know, come down and join us. And in doing that, because I worked at a restaurant where Bob McCullough would come to all the time, I lost my job in part of it and I'm not ashamed of it at all. Because it wouldn't for me to be there in the first place, obviously. Because I spoke how I felt about what was going on and correcting them and would have to listen to my boss say, it's not even that big of a deal, I don't understand why they're out there. They should just let the family mourn in peace. Peace is what got us here. People are free, we ain't gonna stop till people are free. I can't hear my neighbor calling, I can't breathe. Now we're in the struggle and we can't breathe. Calling out the violence of the racist police. We ain't gonna stop. It reads, we build this memorial to honor the black lives we've lost and to bring a little happiness to the youth in the struggle. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to this performance here at Victory Gardens. Give our artists one more round of applause. I also just wanna remind everyone that you've heard a long list of ways we can help. As artists, as community members, I encourage you to investigate those further and let's keep this dialogue going beyond the spaces of this theater. Thank you so much.