#1 Isaac (Jewish Male, White Doorman) #2
Matthew (African American Male, Black Doorman)
Both begin by speaking at the same time.
#1: I’m white,
but not white enough.
but not black enough.
this? (hold up a paper bag to face) This
plain paper bag….see it?
Not white enough.
Not black enough.
with final word from above) Enough
already! How many times do I have to
tell you to get your black ass in
gear? The party started a half hour ago.
#2: I have four
points. One, why you checking out my ass, and two,
look closer, it’s whiter than your face, three I can’t find my other shoe…..and
my fourth point is…. point number four is ….Jew.
#1: But we’re already…(interrupting himself) Jew?
Really? That’s a point?
#2: Got it!
(finds shoe and starts putting it
on) Yeah, kind of locked myself into
four points and ran dry. Man, Martin
said there was going to be A LOT of chicks there.
The math geek?
#2: Yep, even gave me the ratio. 3:1 baby, 3:1.
Three what to one what is my
Both: (blended with final words from above) My
concern is that who I am is determined by
the hue of this…thing. (hold bag
#1: I highly doubt there is much consistency
#2: After all, its primary purpose is to
support the weight of all the grocery items included.
#1: Not excluded... (folds bag)…folding under the weight of Racism.
Crow South….Alive and well.
with final word from above) Well,
I’m assuming ratio of Girls to Boys but you’re right…with
Martin I should have checked. Could be
parabolas to algorithms. Whose house we
going to anyway?
#1: A friend of a friend of a…
#2: Got it, you don’t have a clue
#1: I have an address and from what I
#2: How do I look?
#1: Like an anti-Semite. Is that my tie?
#2: Allow me
to paraphrase a famous quote
by Moses, “Let my Jew comment
go!” And, no,
it’s not your tie. (after a look) Yes!
Come on. Let’s go. No
with final word from above) No time
like the present to speak the truth about what’s going on around us.
#2: My black friends are dividing themselves…
#1: The pigment in my skin determines…
#2: …determined to decide who gets
Someone actually said I was black.
At same time
to self) I’m not black (points to
friend), you’re black.
to friend) You’re not black,
to self) I’m black.
Both: Black. (hold
up hands and look) I’m not though…. (look at each other) Am I?
with final words from above) Am I
lookin’ good or what? Knock on the
door…WAIT! You have to knock the
code; three quick then one slow...
#2: (saying it for the rhyme) Just like the
ratio. Get it? 3:1? Man,
am I a poet or what?
what. (starts to knock) I feel
Langston Hughes’s job is secure. Get out of the way, I got it. (knocks
three then one. As he knocks he changes
to the other side of the door and plays the doorman for the party)
spouting Hughes poetry) I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen when company comes…(interrupted by
opening of the door) Hey man, we’re here for the party.
#1: (as the doorman) This party isn’t for
you. (goes to shut the door)
foot in the door) Whoa, hold on
doorman) Boy! You better
move your nigger foot before I
have to do something you really don’t want to happen.
an attitude) Like what?
the friend) Hey, hey…he’s with
#2: (angry) Yeah, I’m cool!
doorman he reaches back for something then unfolds a paper bag next to their
faces) This here bag tells me we
have ourselves a couple of nigger, porch monkeys, and the bag never lies. (turns
as if talking to friends at party as he shuts the door) Right Boys?!
themselves but say it for different reasons) Nigger? Porch Monkey?
#2: Screw them man, I know of another party
the other side of town.
#1: What was that?
That?! What was that?! That was racism man! That’s what I deal
with man. You think everything is all great…News flash
man, it’s NOT! We’re not all equal…it’s
all about the color of your skin. This
isn’t any damn democracy…it’s a pigmentocracy!
#1: Why you screaming at me? I didn’t get in either…I wasn’t holding the
#2: Yeah but you’re white!
#1: NOT WHITE ENOUGH!
(blended with final word from above) ENOUGH!
(calmer) Just, enough.
#2: When I was
young old I over-heard my
daddy, who is blacker than a moonless night, accuse my mom of sleeping
around. Said, “No way he’s mine…no
way! You humped some cracker!”
He left that same year. As I grew I knew it was just an excuse to
#1: “He has
the old country in him,” my
grandma would say as she pinched some part of my face. “Look at
his beautiful skin.” She went on and on about how Noah’s wife was
a dark Hamitic Jew too. It made me very
uncomfortable. Because of it, I never could
quite fit in the neighborhood. As I grew
I knew it was just an excuse for me to leave.
#2: My ex-dad
may have had a point, though I
would never bring it up to Mom. My whole
family was dark, Africa dark…blue-black I heard others call them. For
some reason I was just lighter.
#1: Not sure
when I first consciously
understood how my darker skin made me less…I was just not treated the
#2: At reunions
my family treated me
different, called me an uppity negro. Stuck up like I thought I was better
somehow. But, I wasn’t even upset,
‘cause I was just glad they still considered me a negro.
#1: At a store
once, in a prominent Jewish
neighborhood I was followed around by a little old lady in stealth mode…peeking
around the corner, finding reasons to mess with items on the shelf in the row I
was shopping…glancing away suddenly when our eyes met…
Looking back, she thought I was
black…or at least not white. I didn’t
like how it made me feel so, I shoplifted a candy bar and left.
#2: I sat down and ate a hamburger on a
bet. It was June’s diner, white only,
and I was eating a hamburger. I didn’t
dare turn and look at the stunned black faces staring in at me. I would be lying
if I said, it didn’t feel