![]() We talked about how perhaps, for all its ugliness, the current climate is forcing people in the United States to recognize a sore that has been festering all along a boil that, if lanced, might eventually heal. Not long ago, I got into a political conversation with the cashier at Trader Joe’s (as one does-a Black man if that matters-I suspect it does). They do not apologize for it (nor should they) and that explicit assertion highlights just how rare it is for theater-anything-to be created without an assumed white audience in mind (consciously or not). DuBois sent out the call for art written about, by, and for Black people, The Movement Theatre Company are laying claim to that right. ![]() ![]() I am welcome-and felt welcome-but, long after W.E.B. This piece was quite overtly, defiantly, refreshingly not written for me. Of course, I believe that my positionality always informs how I receive and respond to art how I move through the world more generally, but in writing about Aleshea Harris’s What to Send Up When It Goes Down, it is an essential confrontation. This is perhaps the first time I have been compelled to begin a review by stating clearly that I am a non-American, white woman. Kambi Gathesha and the cast of What to Send Up When It Goes Down.
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