It is imperative that our stories...our Black stories are told. The good, the bad, the unjust. The only way to strive toward a more just existence within this american experiment (where injustice seems to be entwined within the fabric) is to call out truth to power. Today we hear Mr. Berry's story. His is one of many, and more specifically one of 21 human voices that were stifled through false imprisonment. When will the First Amendment apply to us? To Black people?

Well, in this utterance, this telling, Mr. Lindsay is doing just that; exercising his First Amendment right to Freedom of Speech in order give voice back to his grandfather, Lee and his grandmother, Marva. May we all continue to find and use our voices, especially in service to those who have found themselves stifled.

Black lives...

Black voices...

Black stories...

Black people...

matter.

Jackie Davis

“….We don’t even really rap, we just let our dead homies tell stories for us….”

Yes, because I believe there are some stories that should never die, some lessons that should always be taught. It’s true, the act of putting words on paper makes the content everlasting; immortal, even. However, many of the lessons about what it means to be Revolutionary While Black, have gone un-documented, and therefore, lost in time. But the revolution is not new…... BUT WE BEEN DOING THIS!

The parallels between the Civil Rights movement and the Black Lives Matter movement are so jarring, that in this modern era of activism, history in fact seems to be repeating itself.

But this is why we tell stories, right? To bring awareness, to plan ahead, to teach? This play is dedicated to the sisters and brothers of all colors whose story was forgotten, repurposed, or taken from them. To those who took the punches and walked away bloodied and bruised. You are not forgotten. Maktüb.

Christopher M. Lindsay, MFA‘21