♪♪♪ Man: We come a little bit stage right?

Man #2: Places, everyone.

Woman: Every single moment in every single second, you must stay in your intention.

And there must be intention in all that you say and do.

You very serious about this.

Right?

Let me hear that.

Woman: The good Lord send me these warnings in this fire just like He sent his messages in the fire to Moses.

Uh-huh.

Now you say it.

Don't look at the paper.

Look at me and tell me.

You say it.

Tell me and make me believe it's so.

Look at me.

The good Lord sent His warnings in this fire, just like he sent His messages in the fire to Moses.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

[ Laughter ] You children listening?

-Yes!

-Yes.

Y'all better listen to it.

[ Laughter ] Better listen to it.

Right?

-Yes.

You see?

I love working with you.

Every single day is -- It isn't just a progression.

It's major progression.

You're just so gifted and your soul open.

And it's inspiring to me.

I love it.

I love it.

All right.

Carr: So how is Mary Burrill staging plays in the 19-teens with this kind of language?

How is Willis Richardson, whose family had to flee North Carolina -- I mean, he he was, what, maybe about 10 years old when the Wilmington race riot took place -- 1898.

So they left.

Of course, she's a Howard person.

Rashad: Uh-huh.

Howard University graduate, D.C. born, teaches at M Street High School, which of course, becomes Paul Laurence Dunbar High School.

And among those who she influenced and taught -- Willis Richardson, The only high school in the country for Black children, the colored preparatory high school.

People would literally send their children from all over the country and they would knock on doors in the neighborhood around M Street, and Black people would take them in for rent so their address would be local so they could go there.

They came from all over the country.

That was considered the school that was gonna break the chain of slavery.

She wrote the play about the man, and he wrote the play about the women wanting to vote.

I wonder, how do you think they grappled, these playwrights, with preserving the speech at the same time that there's this aspirational class thing that's certainly present there?

This is the New Negro era when they write these plays.

Right, and remember, in the New Negro era, Zora Neale Hurston was at her height, and she was about that.

That's right.

That's right.

She took that language and lifted it to academia, put it on the stage, put it in literature.

Yes.

You know?

In spite of.

Because of.

No question.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Bethea: There's a lot of history in this room.

It's a lot going on in here.

This is the prop room.

Then we have students right here.

There they go.

Hi, guys.

You're seeing double the pleasure.

[ Laughs ] This is a rendering, a costume rendering, that was done by my student Monique McKenzie last year of Mary Burrill.

And here we are, a year later, working on "Aftermath," and we're like, "Mary!

She's trying to tell us something.

She's trying to tell something!"

First thing you have to do is just read the content, you know, read your script, and really understand, right?

Understand, you know, the basics -- who, what, when, where, how.

You begin to dig at that moment at any and everything that you can about what was happening during that time.

Hammond: As I know the play "Aftermath," it's included in that kind of a genre that's called lynching plays.

And there's a whole series of these plays that came out in the late 19-teens into the 1920s that were being written to help illustrate the fact that there was so much lynching going on in all parts of the country, but particularly in the Deep South.

Ochman: I'm from the South, and hearing stories from my grandparents, I know my grandfather was in the Army and he spoke of being pulled over while he was in the Army and police officers stealing his lunch just for driving while Black.

So for people to write a story and publicize it like that, that is a dangerous act in itself, and it really took a lot.

It took a lot to challenge yourself, to really put yourself out there on the line.

But I think you have to think bigger than yourself.

You have to think of the risk that you're taking for other people so that we can sit here today and tell the same stories.

Hall: We need to reach back in order to move forward, then we need to understand where we come from in order to advance ourselves as Black people.

Yes, these stories are things that we're experiencing right now in terms of voter suppression and just, like, hate crimes that are happening against our people.

But I think even this Black intelligence that emerged during the early 20th century are things that we're slowly being removed from.

But these are really the backs on which we, as young Black artists, stand on.

♪♪♪ He used to sit every night by this fire at this here table and read his Bible and pray.

And what?

And pray.

And pray.

And pray.

But just look what happened to Dad.

Just look what happened.

Mm-hmm.

Take your time.

Come on.

Let's go.

He used to sit every night by this fire at this here table and read his Bible and pray.

But just look what happened to Dad.

That don't look like God was taking care -- Ochman: Hush your mouth, Millie!

I ain't gon' have that sinner talk 'round here.

Ain't gonna have what?

I ain't gon' have that sinner talk 'round here.

I ain't gon' have that sinner talk 'round here.

I ain't gon' have that sinner talk 'round here.

I ain't gon' have that sinner talk 'round here.

I ain't gon' have that sinner talk 'round here.

I ain't gon' have that sinner talk 'round here.

I ain't gon' have that sinner talk 'round here.

There you go.

You see?

Yep.

You gotta be like that.

[ Speaks indistinctly ] Ooh-ooh.

Right?

Keep going.

Don't that look like the Lord -- Don't what?

Don't that look like the Lord -- Don't what?

Don't that look like the Lord -- Don't -- Don't that look like the Lord?

Ah.

Don't that look like the Lord's done 'membered you?

See what I'm saying?

Yes.

After you did all that, now, don't that look like Lord 'membered you?

Mm-hmm.

Yeah, you see, it works and you get hot.

Yeah.

So warm.

Get hot.

But remember when you get hot, this is good, Don't rush it.

Mm-hmm.

Lay it.

Don't break your rhythm.

Be natural in your speech and lay it.

Yeah?

Yeah.

That was really good.

You get mad.

Keep your voice down.

Okay.

It helps you.

Let's see what I got in this bag for you.

Let's so if we can -- We're gonna change.

This position of power and strength, 'cause you never know when you might have to spring.

You don't know, you know?

You're just accustomed to being this way... Yeah.

...'cause this is the way a man is.

Sure enough a man... Mm-hmm.

...without nobody hampering and hindering you.

Your chest.

Come on, now.

Let me see that chest.

There you go.

Put some Mohammed Ali in it.

[ Laughter ] Bethea: What it's like to work with Dean Rashad... [ Laughs ] One word would be surreal.

Roberson: Like, honestly, like, a dream come true.

Like, when I first applied to Howard, that was the experience that I was expecting that I was really looking for.

And just to have her in the room, just her presence, was just so affirming to, like, me and, you know, where I want to go in my career.

So it was perfect.

Dean Rashad was so helpful in challenging us to dig deeper, but also very comforting in helping us find It.

Hammond: It was, first of all, a pleasure to work with her.

I learned so much about the directing process and I think we were a good team.

She made our jobs very, very easy for us.

She had already thought through what had to be said.

Bethea: She -- She became what we were doing.

[ Laughs ] I don't know if that makes any sense to you, but, you know, I remember going to her office and asking her what her vision was, and she began to talk it out.

But as she was speaking to me, she went into character.

[ Laughs ] She looked at me.

It was like she wanted me to be there, and I was just instantly there.

Dean Rashad is, I think, at least for me, she's really taught me the importance of living in this experience, and these are people's actual lives, and adopting a philosophy that's not your own.

Hall: Howard was a school that I knew I needed to be steeped in this Black knowledge, this wealth of community, [indistinct], just, like, the spirit of that.

Howard represents to me Black excellence.

Excellence.

[ Laughs ] Period.

Black excellence.

When you say "Black excellence," you genuinely do think of Howard University.

Howard University is the cornerstone of so many people.

Howard represents -- it's cliché to say, but Black excellence, I think it is the blueprint and the looking point for a lot of Black creatives and Black entrepreneurs and artists who are looking to define their art and what they want to contribute to the world through their voice.

♪♪♪ "Deacon's Awakening," again, it's a very similar issue of watching our democracy being challenged, not just from a racial standpoint, but even as a gender point of view.

I see how Black women have been at the forefront of the election process, of the voting process, that they're putting themselves out into this land of democracy and what democracy means.

Sharber: Willis Richardson for "Deacon's Awakening," I think the importance of looking at how the men have kind of overtaken the women's voices -- like, this is supposed to be a play about, I think, wanting to uplift women's voices.

Like, this is a time period that's never happened before.

Women are finally getting the chance to vote.

Black women are getting the chance to vote.

And these men are kind of just kind of overtaking that and looking at how the patriarchal, you know, society and how that kind of works.

I think it's brilliant.

Hall: So my character in "The Deacon's Awakening" was David, and David reminded me a lot of my grandfather, actually.

My grandfather was a really prolific person in the South during the '60s.

He was the first African American to graduate from North Carolina State University, which was a PWI.

So he always was just this source of knowledge, but also wasn't progressive in his thinking.

So here you have this brilliant Black man who's equipped with all of the tools to advance our people, but he wasn't progressive with it, particularly with women.

And so David really taught me about how to humanize a person whose values doesn't align with yours.

And I really -- I saw something funny in David.

Similarly to my granddad, you can't help but love him because I don't think he knew better.

[ Chuckles ] So that's what David taught me for sure.

Rashad: People get stuck in their conventions, right?

True.

Come on, they get stuck...

It's true.

...in their conventions.

You know, we want -- we want order.

Look, we're having this in this country right now.

Oh, there's no question.

This is why -- This is what's interesting to me.

It's true.

[ Laughs ] We gotta keep the women in check.

Patriarchy -- it's real.

It's real.

It's definitely real.

Been going on for centuries now.

Absolutely.

Absolutely.

I think it's time for a change.

Narrator: "The Deacon's Awakening," a play in one act written by Willis Richardson.

The scene is the sitting room at the Jones' house.

Martha Jones is sitting at the table reading the morning paper.

Eva enters from the hall, carrying a light coat on her arm.

Ruth enters behind Eva.

She is also dressed to go out.

Aren't you all afraid you'll be late?

I hope not.

Come on, Eva.

Just one minute, Ruth.

There's something wrong.

Wrong?

How?

I believe the thing has leaked out somehow.

It can't be.

Do you mean someone has told, Mama?

It seems that way to me.

What makes you think so?

Come here.

I heard them whispering.

Them?

Sol and -- And Papa?

Yes.

What were they saying?

I heard them mention the meeting.

I couldn't hear it all.

But your father stayed home from work today.

And I think he means to go to that meeting.

And I had hoped to keep it a secret until after the election.

Of course we won't let this stop us.

But I'm sorry he decided to go on the very day you plan to make your speech.

Just when we're at our best, too.

If they would let us alone, we'd have everybody in this city ready to vote.

Will you make your speech if he comes, Ruth?

Yes, I'm going to make that speech anyway.

That's right.

We can't afford to back out now.

We'd have to face it sometime in the future.

So I guess it's just as well that we face it now.

That's what I say, too.

Well, I'm brave, and I'll stick right beside you.

There may be a way out of it yet.

How?

If I can keep Dave from going -- But you said that he was staying home for that.

I know, but I have a plan.

Tell us.

You see, Joe Lucas is sick, and if I can get him to go there and get Joe and Nell to keep him a while, everything will be all right.

That'll be -- Joe and Nell are both with us.

That'll be great!

But suppose my intendant comes to the meeting.

It'll be just as bad because he'll see everything and then tell.

Your father went to work.

That's all right, then.

You all run along now before you're too late.

And I'll call up Nell and fix it up with her.

You'd better take a taxi.

Narrator: Ruth and Eva hurry out.

Martha ponders a moment, then speaks through the telephone.

East 1824 W. Is that you, Nell?

[ Chuckles ] Very well.

How's Joe today?

Nell, I have a scheme I want you to help me with.

Well, Dave is up in arms about the voting society.

I don't know how he found out about it, but he's staying home to go to that meeting.

Yes.

On the very day they asked Ruth to speak.

I want you to call him up in five minutes and try to get him to come there somehow.

Tell him Joe wants to see him.

[ Chuckles ] Thanks.

That'll help us along a bit.

Keep him as long as you can.

Goodbye.

She hangs up the receiver and begins to read her paper again.

Presently, David Jones enters.

His collar is on but is unbuttoned in front, and his shoes are both unlaced.

Martha, button up this collar for me, will you?

I didn't know you were going out.

She rises and begins to button his collar.

Yes, I heard about that suffrage meeting they're going to have.

And I'm going there to see what I can find out.

It's not exactly a suffrage meeting.

What is it, then?

It's a meeting urging women to vote now that they have the right.

It's the same thing.

What do you want to find out?

I wants to find out who's going to be there.

What good will that do?

Well, I see I can't get around telling you.

The deacons board appointed me to go to that meeting and find out the names of all the women there who belong to our church so I can bring the names up before the deacons at the next meeting.

How did they find out about the meeting?

That's a secret.

Bring the names before the board for what?

So we can have the women up.

We don't mean to have the women in our congregation going to the polls to vote.

I believe in a woman staying in her place and not trying to fill a man's shoes.

The women don't want to take the men's places, Dave.

Yes, they do, and you needn't try to take up for them.

If I caught a woman I had anything to do with in this mess, I would -- What would you do?

I don't know what I would do.

The telephone rings.

Hello.

Yes.

All right.

He's right here.

Dave, Nell wants to speak to you for Joe.

Is he any worse?

She didn't say.

Hello.

Yes.

What's the matter?

Is he worse?

Well, I'll hurry right over there.

She says Joe's a little worse.

I'll have to run over there before I go to the meeting.

I'm gonna try not to be late.

I hope he's not bad off.

I hope not.

Where's my coat?

You didn't bring it downstairs with you.

Shucks!

He rushes out and goes upstairs.

Presently, he hurries past the door, pulling on his coat.

As Martha sits with sewing in her hand, Sol rushes in from the street.

What are you doing home, Sol?

Where is Dave?

He went to see Joe Lucas.

What's the matter?

Did you know Ruth was at that voting meeting?

Ruth was at the meeting?

Yes, she was there.

A mob of toughs broke up the meeting, and she got mussed up a little, too.

Hurt?

No, she got off lucky.

Just mussed up a little.

I reckon she'll be along in a minute.

I'm going to find Dave.

The ruffians.

The telephone rings.

Hello.

Ugh.

You couldn't keep him?

No, that's all right.

The meeting was broken up anyway.

A mob of ruffians did it.

No, I'm expecting her any minute.

I understand she was handled a little roughly.

I hope not myself.

Goodbye.

As she hangs up the receiver, Ruth enters, followed by Eva.

I heard it happened.

How was it?

The mob rushed on us.

Rushed on you?

Yes, they were like wild men.

How do you feel, Ruth?

All right, except that my wrist pains a little.

Had you made your speech?

No.

The chairman was just calling the meeting to order when a mob mostly made up of street loafers rushed upon the platform and pushed everybody off.

There were some respectable- looking men among them, too.

Did they put their hands on you?

Yes.

I was pushed off a chair, and in trying to catch myself, I hurt my wrist.

Your father didn't get there, did he?

I didn't see him.

But it's just as bad.

My father was there, and he'll tell everything.

I know he was there.

Did he see you?

He didn't see me, but I'm sure he saw Ruth when they were putting her in that taxi.

I saw him when he first started towards her.

Then he checked himself and rushed off into the crowd.

Well, if that's the case, we have to prepare for trouble.

It had to come sometime.

You'd better go upstairs and straighten yourself out a bit.

Your father will be here in a few minutes, and I know he'll hear about it before he gets here because Sol has gone to meet him.

Yes.

Come on, Ruth, and change your dress.

I guess they'll both come in as mad as wet hens.

Narrator: They go out.

The room is left vacant until Dave and Sol enter from the street.

I've looked for you everywhere.

I came here, and I went to Joe Lucas's house, but I couldn't find you.

Yes, I went by Joe Lucas's.

And when I got to the hall, everybody was gone.

The mob broke up the meeting.

That's why everybody was gone.

Mob?

Yes, Mob.

A mob broke up the meeting.

I heard they had trouble, but -- That ain't the half of it.

What else?

Ruth was there.

Ruth?!

Yes.

Ruth was there.

She was there.

And the mob mussed her up a little, too.

Mussed?

Oh, what the devil was she doing there?

That's what we've got to find out.

Nobody said anything to me about her being there.

That's what we've gotta see about what she was doing there.

All I know is that she was there.

I would have doubted it, but I saw her with my own eyes.

Her hair was all out and her dress was torn.

And she had something tied around her wrist.

And you're sure it was Ruth?

Sure as I'm born.

Well, I'll find out about it.

You both back so soon?

Do you know anything about Ruth being at that voting meeting?

Yes, I believe she was there.

Well, what was she doing there?

You might ask her.

I'll bring her down.

Narrator: She goes out.

I-I don't know what's getting into these women.

The devil, I reckon.

I never saw Martha like this before.

Dave, it's this voting business, I'll bet.

If that gal of mine ever gets the idea in her head, I don't know what I would do to her.

Martha enters, followed by Ruth and Eva.

Do you want to sit here, Mama?

No.

Sit down, child.

You look angry, Papa.

What's the matter?

I want to know what you were doing at that voting meeting.

I went to make a speech.

What?

I went to make a speech.

You went to make a speech?

-Yes, sir.

-H-How did that happen?

What would you be doing making a speech there?

I'm a member of the society, and we want to have the women ready to vote when the time comes.

-You belong to that crowd?

-Yes, sir.

How long's this been going on?

You mean, how long have I been a member?

Yes.

I helped to organize the society soon after the women were given the right to vote.

You mean to say you've been mixed up in this thing ever since it started?!

Yes, sir.

Even when I was at the head of the deacons board, you was working for this thing against me?

It wasn't exactly against you.

It was for the movement.

It's the very same thing.

Do you know what I'm gonna do to you?

If Eva was mixed up in it -- I am mixed up in it.

I'm gonna take you out of school and let you go to work.

You won't go back to Howard anymore?

Maybe then -- -You.

-Yes, sir.

You don't mean to tell me -- I was there with Ruth, and I am a member.

Well, I won't allow it!

I won't have it!

Do you understand?

Well, Ruth is not coming out of college.

-Not?

-No.

She's going to stay until she finishes.

Are you in sympathy with her after she's disgraced us?

I don't consider myself disgraced.

-You don't?

-No, not at all.

Did you know she was mixed up in this thing ever since it started?

Yes.

And never said anything to me about it?

That's because I was mixed up in it myself.

We've got to get these colored women ready for the election.

-You're in this business, too?

-Yes.

I'm a member of the society, and I give money to it.

Your money.

I haven't got anything else to say.

Wait a minute.

I've got something else to say.

What is it?

We might just as well understand each other now as any other time.

Yes, I reckon we had.

Go on and say what you've got to say.

You men seem to have the wrong idea about women.

You think our minds never go further than cooking and darning socks, but you're very much mistaken.

We think about other things the same as you do.

The time has passed when women are willing to be considered merely parts of the house.

And you men might as well get your minds right on that point.

You don't mean to say you want to vote?

Yes, I do.

Now that we can vote, we all want to vote.

What do you want to vote for?

You're getting on all right.

I want to vote for the same reason you want to vote.

And so do the girls.

When we add our voting strength to yours, you'll get along better.

You can talk all you want to, but you can't make me believe in a woman voting.

I'm not trying to make you believe in it.

You'll believe in it on your own accord as soon as you wake up.

It's already here.

Come on, girls.

Let's go get dinner.

I reckon they got us, Sol.

That won't make me believe it's right.

Narrator: Martha returns.

I've started the girls off with dinner.

Now I want you to give me some good reason why you object to your daughters voting.

It's too public.

Yes.

It keeps them out too long when they ought to be home.

Don't you think women want to hold positions of importance sometimes.

They ought to leave that to the men.

That's the trouble now.

We've been leaving too much to the men.

You cut a girl's opportunity off, then whine when a girl child is born instead of a boy.

Who whines?

You both do, and you know it.

And that's the very reason -- you think a girl will have to be supported.

will never be anything of importance, so you object to their being born.

When you tell people you have a daughter, you do it with a feeling of shame.

And if they don't pity you in their words, they do in their hearts.

Don't talk foolishness, Martha.

You know it's the truth.

Do you think you can make us want women to vote just because men like boy children more than girls?

It's not a question of your wanting it.

You've got to take it.

It's already here.

Our great trouble now is to make you colored men and women aware of the fact that it's already here.

All right.

Have your own way about it.

I'll have nothing to do with it.

But you'll both keep nagging at us.

I won't.

I never nag at anybody.

I won't say another word.

May I tell the girls?

I don't care.

Ruth.

Eva.

It's all right.

Rashad: Mam Sue.

What if this song -- Let's think about this song a couple of ways.

What if this song is like a prayer?

What if this song is like a plea?

What if this song is like a request?

It's a harbinger of what's gonna happen, yes, but isn't there something in you that wants...something?

You know what I mean?

I want you to think about it on all levels.

Let me hear it.

♪ Oh, yes, yonder comes my Lord ♪ ♪ He's coming this way with a sword in his hand ♪ ♪ Oh, yes, yonder comes my Lord ♪ Okay, now, because we want this -- keep rocking -- because we want this, because this is the first thing we hear and because we want this to really...

This comes through the air.

This is the first thing the audience hears, rocking just like this.

Listen to me.

♪ Oh, yes, yonder come my Lord ♪ ♪ He's coming this way with a sword in his hand ♪ ♪ Oh, yes, yonder come my Lord ♪ You see this?

You see this?

It has to have spirit in it.

Uh-huh.

So you think about, well, what if you adopted another point of view?

What if you're singing it, you're asking him to come?

This is a prayer that you know is gonna be answered.

♪ Oh, yes, yonder come my ♪ Ha!

♪ Oh, yes, yonder come my Lord ♪ Don't sing like it's, you know... That means something.

"Yonder come my Lord."

You see what I mean?

And you see it?

Ochman: With the singing, I took a lot out of my grandparents and hearing them just sing around the house and just walking around and what that looks like and how that sits in your body, making it seem like it's not for a performance, but this is these people's lives and this is how they interact with the world.

So knowing what these characters mean in our society today, knowing what they look like in previous years and seeing how that lands in you specifically, seeing how Mam Sue, a 80-year-old grandmother, looks in my body today.

Because then that's when they instantly connect, I feel.

Like, when you put on the garment, when that garment goes on your body and you feel and you're speaking, right, now everything comes together for them.

And you can -- you watch that happen.

So especially when you do a time-period piece, I feel like costumes are very important to help you get a feel for how you would, you know, get ready and how you would look.

Leggett: Working with Professor Bethea, I -- she -- we talked a little bit about, like, she has a rendering, and her rendering is like John, but he's like a part of a family tree.

That uniform -- putting it on, it adds a certain -- you just walk different, you know, you talk different.

And so it -- it's an honor to be able to don such a respected outfit.

So John -- he represents family.

He has been in the war.

And the first thing that he comes home -- when he comes home, he's bearing gifts.

So he's always thoughtful about, you know, those he loves.

And he especially loves his dad.

And I think, yeah, family is at the center of him.

And so what he represents to me also is that he's an emotional man.

And I don't think we get to see that a lot in media, especially Black men.

What's so important about writing stories like this is that they capture the human essence.

Mary Burrill wrote this piece using what we term the Gullah dialect of South Carolina.

And that dialect is an American derivative of English that is spoken in the Sea Islands of Georgia and the Savannah area.

And so the enslaved people who were put there kept their original language, and it turned into a Creole of English that we now call Gullah, or Geechee.

Mary Burrill wrote this play using the Gullah dialect, I believe, because she wanted to inform her audience about the fact that these people actually existed and to honor the way that they lived and spoke.

I was doing this kind of collective interview with actors about August Wilson... Mm!

...because we were trying to put together acting August Wilson the way acting Shakespeare had been put together.

Interesting.

So we were talking amongst ourselves -- we meaning actors -- we were talking to actors who had performed the Wilson plays in their first incarnations.

Oh, wow.

And one of those persons was James Earl Jones.

Of course.

And when I was speaking with James about it, he said that his father... Robert Earl Jones.

There you go.

Yes.

...told him, because they were from Mississippi, right?

[ Chuckles ] Yes.

He said, "Remember this speech.

Remember the way we speak."

He told him this early in his career.

He said, "The time will come when people will have forgotten this speech and you can't teach it to them."

Increasingly, this is what we see.

When I've auditioned younger actors...

Yes.

...for certain roles, what I've seen is that the rhythm has been trained out of them.

Trained out of them?

Another reason we have to have institutions like ours.

Another reason.

But, yes, I have witnessed this.

I mean, I've seen actors come through the great programs at these predominantly other institutions...

Yes.

...you know, and they can't do this.

They can't handle the speech.

They can't work and flow with the speech because the rhythms were trained out of them.

That's fascinating to me.

I think it's very interesting.

She wrote this play, and it's pretty fiery.

Indeed, What she has this lead character, John, saying in his assessment...

Yes.

...you know, we're fine, trustworthy citizens... [ Chuckles ] That's right.

...mm-hmm, shelling out bombs, handing us guns, chucking us off to die.

My God.

But nothing when it comes to being handed the rights that we fought for.

No, no.

Yes.

That's it, though.

You know, so this is interesting to me, because if you haven't read this play and you don't know about this play, you think this rhetoric only comes into play in 1960s.

How about that?

If then.

If then.

If then.

I think about James Earl Jones and "The River Niger."

It's the same conflict.

He comes home from the war.

We've gotta have a revolution [indistinct].

So, yeah, 1919.

1919 was -- [ Chuckles ] It was a terrible time.

Terrible time.

Things was happening.

Happening.

[ Harmonica playing ] Narrator: "Aftermath," written by Mary Burrill.

Place -- the Thorton cabin in South Carolina.

The time -- 1919.

It is late afternoon of a cool day in early spring.

A soft afterglow pours in at the little window of the Thorton cabin.

The light falls on Millie, who stands near the window ironing.

In front of the hearth in a low rocking chair drawn close to the smoldering wood fire sits Mam Sue, busily sewing.

♪ Oh, yes yonder comes my Lord ♪ ♪ He's coming this way with his sword and his hand ♪ ♪ Oh, yes ♪ A burning log falls apart.

And Mam Sue suddenly stops singing.

See that log there, Millie?

The one fallin' to the side with the big flame lappin' round it?

That means big doin's around here tonight.

Mam Sue, don't you go proph'sying no more.

You seen big doin's in that fire the night before them white devils come in here and took'n po' Dad out and burn him.

No, Millie, I didn't see no big doin's that night.

I see'd evil doin's.

And I told your po' daddy to keep away from town the next day with his cotton.

Just knowed he was gon' get in a rile with them white devils.

He wouldn't listen to his old mammy.

Mmn-mnh.

The good Lord send me these warnings in this here fire just like He sent his messages in the fire of Moses.

Your children better listen to.

Oh, Mam Sue, you scares me when you talks about seeing all them things in the fire.

You get scared 'cause you don't put your trust in the good Lord.

He can take care of you no matter what come.

Sometimes I think that God's done forgot us poor colored people.

God didn't take no care of po' Dad, and he put his trust in Him.

He used to sit every night by this fire, this here table, and read his Bible and pray.

But just look what happened to Dad.

That don't look like God was taking care of.

Hush your mouth, Millie.

I ain't gon' have that sinner talk 'round here.

God don't take no care of ya?

Ain't you've been praying night and morning for God to send your brother back from the war alive and whole.

Ain't you get that letter no longer than yesterday, saying that the fighting's all done stopped and that the Blessed Lord's brung your brother through all the battles live and whole?

Don't that look like the Lord's done 'membered ya?

I reckon you's right, Mam Sue.

But if anything had happened to John, I was never gon' pray no more.

♪ Oh, yes, yonder comes my Lord ♪ ♪ He's comin' this way ♪ Lonnie's so late gettin' home tonight.

I guess I better take Miss Hart's wash home tonight myself.

Yes, Lonnie's might late.

I reckons you better slip along with it.

[ Sighs ] -Millie.

-Yes, Mam Sue?

Where's the letter?

Mam Sue, please don't let's do this right now.

A knock is heard.

Millie opens the door, and Reverend Luke Moseby enters.

Good evening, brother Moseby Come right in.

Good evening, Millie.

Good evening, Mam Sue.

I just dropped in to see if you all are still trustin' the good Lord and -- Lord, Brother Moseby.

Ain't I been trusting in the good Lord not only these 80 years?

What for you think I'm gonna quit when I'm in sight of the Promised Land?

Millie, fetch Brother Moseby that chair.

That's right, Mam Sue.

You just a-keep on trusting and praying, and everything's going to come all right.

Don't let me 'tain you, Millie, but what's all this news we's been hearing about your brother John?

They say he's done won some kind of medal over there in France?

Oh, yes, we got a letter day before yesterday from John telling us all about it.

He's won the War Cross.

He's fought off 20 Germans all alone and saved his whole company.

And the great French general come and pin the medal on him himself.

Oh, Lord bless his soul.

I knowed that boy would make good.

And he's been to Paris, and the finest people stopped him when they seen his medal and shook his hand and smiled at him, and he can go everywhere.

There ain't nobody all the time looking down on him and sneering at him 'cause he's Black.

But everywhere they's just grand to him.

And he says it's the first time ever in his life he's felt like a real 'sho nuff man.

Well, honey, don't the Holy Book say the first shall be last and the last shall be first?

That it do, and the Holy Book ain't never told no lie.

Folks over in Charleston are saying that some soldiers goin' to land there today or tomorrow.

I reckons they'll all be coming along soon now that the war's done stopped.

I just hates the thought of John coming home and hearing about Dad.

What?

You mean to say you ain't write him about your daddy yet?

That she ain't.

Millie must have her way.

She allowed her brother oughtn't be told and that her could keep on writing him just like her dad was living.

Millie always done the writing.

I just lets her have her way.

You mean to say -- But Brother Moseby, I couldn't write John no bad news whiles he was way over there by hisself.

He had enough to worry him with death a-staring him in the face every day.

Yes, Brother Moseby, Millie's been carrying on them lies in her letters for the last six months.

But today I just says to her, this war's done stopped now.

And John, he gon' be coming home soon and he ain't gon' find me with no lie on my soul.

Mm, I made her set down and tell him the whole truth.

She goin' out to post that letter this minute.

No good never come -- Narrator: The door is pushed violently open, and Lonnie rushes in.

Mam Sue, Millie, what do you think?

John's come home!

John.

Home?

Where's he at?

What you sayin'?

John come home?

Oh, bless the Lord.

Bless the Lord.

Millie, didn't I tell you somethin' was gon' happen?

I was sweeping up the store just before leaving and the phone rung.

It was John.

He was at Charleston, had just landed.

His company's waiting to get the 10:00 train for Camp Reed where they's gonna be mustered out.

But how's he going to get away?

Oh, good evening, Brother Moseby.

I's just so excited, I didn't see ya.

Why, his captain done give him leave to run over here today.

Train's ready.

He oughta be here now 'cause it's 'most two hours since he was talking.

What for you so long coming home and telling us?

I did start right out.

But when I get to Sherley's corner, I seen a whole lot of them white hoodlums hanging 'round they feed store.

I just felt like they was just waiting to start something.

So I dodged them by taking the long way home.

Po' Lonnie, he always dodgin' po' white trash.

Well, you see what Dad got by not dodging 'em.

I must be stepping long now.

I gotta stop in to see old man Hawkins.

He's mighty sick.

I'll drop in on my way back for a word of prayer with John.

Lonnie, you better run along as Brother Moseby go and tote that wash to Miss Hart and drop in Miss Hawkins' store and get me some soap and some starch.

I reckons you better give me a bottle of liniment so pain doesn't come back in my knee.

Good evening, Brother Moseby.

Good evening, Mam Sue.

Good evening, Millie.

And God bless you.

Tell John I'll get back 'fore he leaves.

Narrator: Lonnie and Moseby leave.

[ Sighs ] Po' John.

Po' John.

Mam Sue?

Yes, Millie.

Who's gon' tell John about Dad?

I don't know.

Reckons you'd better.

Oh, Mam Sue, don't let's tell him now.

He's only got a little hour to spend with us and it's been his first time for so long.

John love Daddy so.

Let him be happy just a little longer.

We can tell him the truth when he comes back for good.

Please, Mam Sue?

No, child, John gon' be asking for daddy first thing.

There ain't no way.

Oh, yes, 'tis.

We could tell him Dad's gone to town, anything just so he can spend his few little minutes in peace.

I'll fix the Bible just like Dad's been in and reading it.

And he won't know no better.

Millie takes the Bible from the mantel and, opening it at random, lays it on the table.

I ain't much on actin' this lie, Millie.

♪ Oh, yes, yonder comes my Lord ♪ ♪ He's coming this way with ♪ Millie, better light that lamp.

It's getting dark.

♪ He's going to hew them sinners down ♪ ♪ Right level to the ground ♪ As Millie is lighting the lamp, whistling is heard in the distance.

♪ Oh, yes ♪ [ Whistling in distance ] Millie listens intently, then rushes to the window.

That's him!

That's John, Mam Sue.

[ Whistling ] Narrator: John enters.

Where's Dad?

Where's Mam Sue?

Here's ol' Mam Sue.

Bless your heart, child.

Bless your heart.

To think that the good Lord's done let me live to see this day.

Dear old Mam Sue.

Gee, but I'm glad to see you and Millie again.

Didn't I tell you he was gon' come back here?

Same old Mam Sue with her faith in her prayers.

But where's Dad?

He been in from the field, ain't he?

Yes, he's come in, but he had to go out again to Sherley's feed store.

Oh, that ain't far.

I have just a few minutes, so I better run down there and hunt him up.

Won't he be surprised?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, John.

I forgot, he ain't gone to Sherley's.

He's gone to town.

To town?

I hope he'll get in before I'm leaving.

There's no telling how long they'll keep us at Camp Reed.

Where's Lonnie?

Lonnie's done gone to Miss Hart's with the wash.

He'll be back directly.

[ Gasps ] And this is the medal.

Oh, tell us all about it, John.

Oh, since it's an awful story, wait till I get back for good.

Let's see what I got in this bag for you.

Narrator: He takes out a bright-colored dress pattern.

That's for you, Millie.

And quit wearing them black clothes.

Oh, John, it's just lovely.

Look, Mam Sue.

Flourishing a bright shawl.

And this is for Mam Sue.

Mom Sue'll be so gay.

Oh, who'd ever believe that your old Mam Sue would be living to wear clothes what her grandchild done brung her from Europe?

Never you mind, Mam Sue.

One of these days, I'm go' take you and Millie over there so you can breathe free just once before you die.

It's got to be soon, 'cause this old body's most wore out.

The good Lord's gon' be calling me to pay my debt 'fore long.

Narrator: Showing some handkerchiefs with gay borders...

These are for Lonnie.

...he next takes out a tiny box that might contain a bit of jewelry.

And this is for Dad.

Something he's been wanting for years.

I ain't gonna open it till he comes.

John takes two Army pistols from his bag and places them on the table.

And these are for yours truly.

Oh, John, are them yours?

One of them's mine.

The other's my lieutenant's.

I've been cleaning it for him.

Don't touch 'em 'cause mine's loaded.

Did they learn you how to shoot them?

Yeah.

And I can ever more pick 'em off.

Oh, John.

Never you worry, little sis.

John's never gon' use 'em, 'less it's right for him to.

My, but it's good to be home.

I been away only two years, but it seemed like two centuries.

All that life over there seemed like some awful dream.

Mam Sue: I know it do.

Many's the day your old Mam Sue sat in this chair and prayed for you.

Lots of times, too, in the trenches when I was dog tired and sick and aching with the cold, I used to say, "Well, if we're suffering all this for the oppressed like they tell us, then Mam Sue and Dad and Millie come in on that, they'll get some good out of it if I don't.

And I'd shut my eyes and forget the cold, pain, and them old guns spittin' death all around us and see you folks sitting here by this fire, Mam Sue a-noddin' and a-singin', Dad a-spellin' out his Bible.

Let's see what he's been reading.

Narrator: John takes up the Bible and reads the first passage he sees.

"But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, and do good to them that hates you."

That ain't the dope they been feeding us soldiers on.

Love your enemies?

It's been get a good aim at 'em and let her go.

Mam Sue: Honey, I hates to hear you talk like that.

Sound like you done forget your God.

No, Mam Sue, I ain't forgot God.

But I've quit thinking that prayers can do everything.

I've seen a whole lot since I've been away from here.

I've seen some men go into battle with a curse on their lips, and I've seen them same men come back with never a scratch.

And I seen some men what read their Bibles before battle and prayed to live left dead on the field.

Yes, Mam Sue, I've seen a heap, and I've done a tall lot of thinking since I've been away from here.

And I believe it's just like this.

Beyond a certain point, prayers ain't no good.

The Lord does just so much for you.

Then it's up to you to do the rest for yourself.

The Lord's done his part when he done give me strength and courage.

I gotta do the rest for myself.

I don't like that kind of talk.

Don't bode no good.

Narrator: The door opens and Lonnie enters with packages and then bolts the door.

Well, hello, Lonnie, old man.

Hello, John.

Gee, but I'm glad to see you.

Boy, you should have been with me.

It would have taken some of the scariness out of you and done your whole world a good.

Here's the soap and starch, Millie.

Has you brung my liniment?

Yes'm.

It's in the package.

No, it ain't, Lonnie.

Miss Hawkins give it to me.

I musta left it on the counter.

I'll get it when I go to the train with John.

See what John done brought you?

And look on the mantel.

You'd better hide them things.

No colored man better be seen with them things down here.

That's all right, Lonnie.

Never you fear.

I'm gon' keep them, and I ain't gonna hide 'em either.

You see them?

Well, when I got them wounds, I let out all the rabbit blood that was in me.

If I can be trusted with a gun in France, I can be trusted with one in South Carolina.

Millie, you better fix some supper for John.

I don't want a thing.

I've got to be leaving in a little while.

I'm afraid I'm gonna miss Dad after all.

Narrator: Someone is trying to enter.

Then there's a loud knock on the door.

That's Dad!

Don't tell him I'm here.

Narrator: John tips hurriedly into the adjoining room.

Lonnie unbolts the door, and Miss Selena Hawkins enters.

Ronnie forgot the liniment, so I thought I'd better run over here with it, 'cause when Mam Sue send for this stuff, she sho' needs it.

Brother Moseby's been telling me that John's done come home?

Yes, I'm here.

Good evening, Miss Hawkins.

Glad to see you.

Well, land sakes alive.

If it ain't John sho' nuff.

And ain't he just looking grand?

Just look at that medal a-shinin' on his coat.

Put your cap on, boy, and let me see how you look.

Sure.

Now, don't he surely look grand?

I knows your sister and grandmammy's proud of you.

If only your po' daddy had a-lived to see this day.

If your po' daddy had lived?

What does this mean?

Lord, Millie, I thought you told him.

Narrator: Miss Hawkins slips out of the cabin.

Come, Millie, have -- have you been lyin' to me?

Is -- Is Dad gone?

I just hated to tell you.

You were so far away.

Come, Millie, for God's sakes, don't keep me under suspense.

I'm a brave soldier.

I can stand it.

D-Did he suffer much?

Was he sick long?

He wasn't sick no time.

Them white devils come in here and dragged him.

My God.

You mean they lynched Dad?

[ Crying ] They burned him down by the big gum tree.

What for, Millie?

What for?

He got in a row with old Mr. Withrow about the price of cotton, and he called Dad a liar and struck him, and then Daddy up and struck him back.

Didn't they try him?

Didn't they give him a chance?

What did the sheriff do and the governor?

They didn't do nothing.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

So they come into our home, have they?

[ Sniffles ] And what was you doing when them hounds came in here after Dad?

There was so many of them coming to get him.

What could I do?

Do?

You could have fought 'em off like a man.

Don't be too hard on him, John.

We ain't got no guns 'round here.

Then he should have burnt the damn kennels over their heads.

Who was leading them?

Old man Withrow and the Sherley boys.

They started it all.

I been helping the white man get his freedom.

I reckon I better try now and get my own.

Mam Sue: What you gonna do?

I'm sick of these old white folks doin's.

We're fine, trustworthy fellow citizens when they handin' us our guns and Liberty Bonds and chuckin' us off to die.

But we ain't a damn thing when it comes to handing us the rights we done fought and bled for.

I'm sick of this whole sort of life, and I'm gonna put an end to it.

Oh, no, no, no, John!

Mam Sue, John's gonna kill himself!

Don't do nothin' to bring sin on your soul.

Pray to the good Lord to take all this fiery feeling out your heart.

Or wait till Brother Moseby come back.

He gon' pray.

This ain't no time for preachers or prayers.

You mean to tell me I must let them white devils send me miles away to suffer and be shot up for the freedom of people I ain't never seen, while they're burning and killing my folks here at home?

To hell with them!

Narrator: He pushes Millie aside, and seizing the revolvers, thrust the loaded one into his pocket and begins deliberately to load the other.

Oh, John.

They'll kill ya.

What if they do?

I ain't scared of none of 'em.

I've face worse guns than any sneakin' hounds can show me.

To hell with them.

Narrator: He thrust the revolver into Lonnie's hand.

Take this and come on here, boy, and we'll see what Withrow and his gang have got to say.

♪ Oh, yes, yonder comes my Lord ♪ Carr: This whole thing is a Howard story.

It's a Dunbar story.

When we're all here in this audience watching these young people apply their craft, this is not only a necessary thing, it's a directive.

These ancestors are waiting for you to bring them back.

They put it there for us to get.

[ Cheering in distance ] You hear the celebration?

[ Laughs ] That's true.

They agree with what you're saying.

That's right!

From the motherland.

Thank you so much.

Dean, it's a pleasure.

Thank you.

I'm so glad you here.

It's a real pleasure.

Thank you for joining.

Of course.

A pleasure.

Thank you.

Yes, ma'am.

Bethea: Oh, man, fearlessness.

Fearlessness.

Do you know who the Maroon people were?

They were people who... ...chose -- They said the slavery is not something -- that your freedom is something that you take.

Right?

And so they never were -- they never thought like enslaved peoples.

And I truly believe that that's the bloodline, or that's the spear or the essence of what Mary Burrill, who Mary Burrill was as a human being.

Like, if I had to meet this woman, there was a fearlessness that she had when she walked through the streets of Georgetown because she bought acres of land in Georgetown to bury her own people.

At that time, we know what was going on during that time.

We were depressed, oppressed, suppressed, every "pressed" you could be.

[ Laughs ] To be able to to write like that, at that moment, you had something to say.

There was a point that you were gonna get across by any means necessary.

And there were people like Mary Burrill that walked this very campus.

These are our ancestors.

We stand on their shoulders.

We stand on the shoulders of Dean Rashad.

You know what I'm saying?

They came before us and they paved the way.

They created the landscape, right?

And they restructured it for us, for them, for us to be, right?

And so there's power in that.

To be able to write that way, you have to be free here in your mind first.

That's who the Maroon people were.

I want you look them up.

They were powerful people.

They looked like us.

They looked like me and you.

And so I was humbled and privileged to just have been a part of that space.

Sharing that space, for me, probably did things that I probably will -- by and by, I'll understand why I was chosen to be a part of "Dangerous Acts."

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪