Don't You Want to be Free--9

GIRL: Go down, Moses,
Way down in Egypt land,
And tell ole Pharoah

CHORUS: To let my people go!

OVERSEER: (IN WILD CONFUSION, RUSHES TO THE GIRL AND STRIKES HER.) Shut up, you god-damned dogs! Shut up!

(BUT WHEN THE YOUNG MAN RISES AND TAKES UP THE SONG.)

YOUNG MAN: Go down, Moses,
Way down in Egypt land,
And tell ole Pharoah
To let my people go.

CHORUS: And tell ole Pharoah
To let my people go.

(A GREEET WAVE OF REVOLT RISES DISGUISED AS A SONG. THE OVERSEER IS POWERLESS AGAINST IT. HE CALLS FOR TROOPS, FOR ARMS. HE PULLS A GUN.)

OVERSEER: Send soldiers Get out the militia! Shoot these dogs!

(SHOTS ARE HEARD. THE OLD MAN FALLS PRONE. THE GIRL FALLS. AN OLD WOMAN ENTERS RIGHT AND KNEES OVER THE DEAD)

OVERSEER: (As he shoots) Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

(HE EXITS LEFT.)

YOUNG MAN: (COMING FORWARD TOWARD THE AUDIENCE) But we didn't shut up! We were never wholly quiet. Some of us always carried on our fight and kept alive the seeds of revolt. Nat Turner was one. Denmark Vesey was another who tried to lead the slaves to freedom. Harriet Tubman was another who sought roads to escape. Sojourner Truth another. Some they beat to death. Some they killed. But some of us always

Don't You Want to be Free--10

kept on, even though the way looked dark.

OLD WOMAN: So dark! So dark!

(SINGS OVER THE BODIES OF THE DEAD.)

OLD WOMAN: Oh, nobody knows
The trouble I've seen!
Nobody knows but Jesus.
Nobody knows
The trouble I've seen.
Glory, Hallelujah!

Sometimes I'm up,
Sometimes I'm down.
Oh, yes, Lawd!
Sometimes I'm almost
To the ground.
Oh, yes Lawd!

CHORUS:

Oh, nobody knows
The trouble I've seen...

OLD WOMAN: (AS THE CHORUS HUMS.)

Children scattered. Home gone. Sons and daughters
sold away. I don't know where they are. (RISES.)
But I look at the stars and they look at the stars.
And somehow I feel better. And now I walk the
world lookin' for truth. I'se a so-journer lookin'
for truth.

YOUNG MAN: Sojourner Truth!

OLD WOMAN: Yes, son.

YOUNG MAN: Is we ever gonna be free?

OLD WOMAN: Son, we gonna be free. Ain't you heard them names?

YOUNG MAN: What names?

OLD WOMAN: Black names and white names in the air. Listen!

(FLAG RISES.)

VOICES:

Douglass! Douglass! Frederick Douglass! William

Lloyd Garrison! Emerson! . . . Whittier! . . .

Lowell . . . Douglass! John Brown! Lincoln! John

Don't You Want to be Free--13

ask the man for his money---and they killed him.

(ON THE LEFT, THE OVERSEER SITS IN A CHAIR TILTED BACK, SMOKING A BIG CIGAR. ENTER THE YOUNG MAN, RIGHT, CROSSES LEFT.)

YOUNG MAN: Mr. Mallory, the crops all sold, ain't it? Can you gimme my part now?

OVERSEER: Your part? What you mean, your part, George?

YOUNG MAN: I mean my money that you owe me.

OVERSEER: You better be careful how you use that word *owe*, boy. I don't owe you nothing.

YOUNG MAN: (TRYING TO RESTRAIN HIMSELF) But I raised nine bales, Mr. Mallory. And my contract calls ...

OVERSEER: Your contract? Hell! What about my bills? What about the commissary store? What about that sow belly and corn meal I been advancing you all the year for you and your lazy old woman, and them kids of yours that you thinks too good to work in the cotton fields. Trying to send pickaninnies to school! Huh! You're an uppity black boy, anyhow. Talkin' about what I owe you! Why, even after nine bales was sold you owed me more'n a hundred dollars, ...Why you ungrateful scoundrel. Get on back there in that field and start plowin' for next year's crop.

YOUNG MAN: Mr. Mallory, I ain't goin'. Not till I see the figures.

OVERSEER: You ain't goin'? What you mean you ain't goin'? Don't talk back to me!

YOUNG MAN: I ain't goin'. I'm tired o' workin' for nothin'.

OVERSEER: (RISING) Are you trying to say I don't pay my

Don't You Want to be Free--17

WOMAN:

(BEGINS TO SING):
In that great gettin' up mornin'
Fare you well! Fare you well!

(REPEAT)

CHORUS:

There's a better day a-comin'! etc.

(THE OLD SPIRITUAL RISES TRIUMPHANTLY AS
THE YOUNG MAN TAKES HIS HEAD FROM LYNCH
ROPE. HE COMES WITH TRAMP'S BUNDLE ON
STICK AND STANDS BEFORE THE MULATTO GIRL.
THE MAN AND WOMAN EXIT RIGHT AS THE SING-
ING DIES DOWN.)

YOUNG MAN:

So many things is wrong in this world, honey, but
the wrongest thing of all is poverty. Being poor.
You're the girl I loved once, now look at you! All
painted and powdered, and wrong. But I know what
happened. I don't blame you for it. You was young
and beautiful once, and golden like the sunshine
that warmed your body. But because you was colored,
honey, this town had no place for you, nothing for
you to do.

MULATTO GIRL:

So one day, sitting on old Mrs. Latham's back porch
polishing the silver, working for two dollars a
week, I asked myself two questions. They ran some-
thing like this: What can a colored girl do on the
money from a white woman's kitchen?

VOICE:

Two dollars a week.

MULATTO GIRL:

And ain't there any joy in this town?

VOICE:

Two dollars a week,

YOUNG MAN:

Now the streets down by the river are your streets.
(TURNING AWAY.) And the sinister shuttered houses
of the bottoms hold a yellow girl seeking an answer
to her questions.

Don't You Want to be Free--30

OVERSEER: And polish those shoes good now! I want to see my face in 'em when you get through.

(THE OLD MAN BENDS OVER HIS TASK)

WOMAN: Good evening, son!

YOUNG MAN: Mom, I lost my job!

WOMAN: You lost your job?

YOUNG MAN: Yes! They laid me off tonight.

WOMAN: Well, honey, you'll find another one. Maybe.

YOUNG MAN: I don't know, mom. Things is so tight, I done lost heart! Look how long I been a man now, and ain't never had a job that amounted to nothing. I've been all over, and everywhere just the same. The dirty work for colored folks, the cheap work, underpaid work! I'm tired, mom. Soon as I come here to be with you a while and we get this little flat, first thing I do is lose my job. And the landlord's just sent us a notice about raising the rent, too. Mom, I'm about ready to give up. I swear I am!

WOMAN: Son, you ain't gonna give up no such a thing. Listen! You gonna keep right on just like I been keeping on. Did you ever stop to think about it, honey, about your mother, and all the rest of us colored women---what we been up against all through history, son. Sit down and lemme tell you, for

(PIANO MUSIC)

I'm standing here today

Like a living story of that long dark way

Don't You Want to be Free--31

That I had to climb, that I had to know
In order that our race might live and grow.
Look at my face, boy, dark as the night,
Yet shining like the sun with hope and
light.

I'm the child they stole from the sand
Three hundred years ago in Africa's land.
I'm the dark girl who crossed the wide
sea

Carrying in my body the seed of the Free.
I'm the woman who worked in the field,
Bringing the cotton and corn to yield.
I'm the one who labored as a slave,
Beaten and mistreated for the work that
I gave---

Children sold away from me, husband sold,
too.

No safety, no love, no respect was I due.
Three hundred years in the deepest South,
Love put a dream like steel in my soul.
Now through my children, we're reaching
the goal.

I couldn't read then. I couldn't write.

I had nothing back there in the night.

Sometimes the valley was filled with tears,
But I kept trudging on through the lonely
years.

Sometimes the road was hot with sun.

But I had to keep on till my work was done.

Don't You Want to be Free--32

done.

I had to keep on! No stopping for me---

I was the seed of the coming Free.

I nourished our dream that nothing could
smother

Deep in my breast---the Negro Mother.

I had only hope then, but now through you,

Dark child of today, my dreams must come true.

All you dark children in the world out there,

Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair.

Remember my years heavy with sorrow---

And make of those years a torch for tomorrow,

Make of my past a road to the light,

Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night.

Lift high my banner out of the dust.

Stand like free men supporting my trust.

Believe in the right, let none push you back.

Remember the whip and the slaver's track.

Remember how the strong in struggle and strife

Still bar you the way, and deny you life---

But march ever forward, breaking down bars.

Look ever upward at the sun and the stars.

Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my
prayers

Impel you forever up the great stairs---

For I will be with you till no white brother

Dares keep down the children of the Negro Mother.

OVERSEER:

(WHO IS NOW A LANDLARD, COMING
TO KNOCK AT THEIR DOOR, RIGHT)

Madam, did you get my notice about raising your

Don't You Want to be Free--37

YOUNG MAN: Friend, you understand.

WHITE WORKER: I understand!

OVERSEER: Radicals! Radicals! Lock 'em up! Lock 'em up!
Radicals! Lock 'em up! Radicals! Radicals!

(EXITS, YELLING LOUDLY.)

YOUNG MAN: Quiet, please--cause Harlem is tired!

WHITE WORKER: We're all tired! All sensible Americans are tired of the old out-moded prejudiced ways of living with one race pitted against another. I'm a worker. We'll organize a union, a real union for all workers, white and black, a union for everybody who works!

YOUNG MAN: Can I belong?

WHITE WORKER: Sure! You can belong! Without you, I would have no strength, either. But together---

YOUNG MAN: Together, we'll be strong!

OVERSEER: I say you're radicals, that's what you are!

WHITE WORKER: Aw, shut up! We're getting tired of you and your kind. You believe in "divide and rule", that's what you believe in. And we're getting tired!

YOUNG MAN: We sure are getting tired!

(EDITOR RUSHES OUT BRANDISHING PAPERS. ENTER WIFE AT LEFT, BROOM IN HAND.)

WIFE: Yes, we're tired! Tired as we can be!

(WIFE SWEEPS. OVERSEER REMOVES GLASSES, PUTS ON DARK HAT, CARRIES A BRIEF CASE, AND IS NOW AN INSURANCE MAN. GOES TO WIFE AND KNOCKS.)

Yes?

OVERSEER: (COCKILY) Insurance man! Got your book ready?

WIFE: You want me to pay you?

Don't you Want to be Free--39

1st WORKER: Laborer.

OVERSEER: Hired. Go get a blank for trade school and we'll teach you to run a machine. Next! What's your trade?

2nd WORKER: Publisher. Publisher.

OVERSEER: Hired, go in. (TO NEXT) What do you do?

3rd WORKER: Machinist.

OVERSEER: Need you badly. We need plenty more machinists, fellow, so if you know any, send 'em around.

(LIGHTS UP TO REVEAL THE YOUNG MAN IN LINE. THE FOREMAN ADDRESS-ES HIM GRUFFLY.)

OVERSEER: What can you do, colored boy?

YOUNG MAN: Machinist, too.

OVERSEER: Can't use you. Come back next week---might be a janitor's job open...Next!

YOUNG MAN: But I'm a skilled worker---experienced machinist with as much training as those white fellows you just hired.

OVERSEER: I said we can't use you.

YOUNG MAN: But why? You need machinists. Why not?

OVERSEER: Look at yourself, boy, and see! Move on, now.. Next!

YOUNG MAN: Say, listen, I'm a citizen. I got two brothers fighting in New Guinea. Fact is, one was at Pearl Harbor. How come I can't work?

OVERSEER: Move on there! You want me to call the cops?

(WHITE WORKER STEPS OUT OF LINE.)

WHITE WORKER: Say, foreman, just a minute.

OVERSEER: Yes?

Don't You Want to be Free--41

If you don't employ that man, I'll take it up
with the union council.

OVERSEER: O. K.! O. K.! (TO THE NEGRO) Hey, you! Check
in.

WHITE WORKER: Come on, buddy, we'll check in together.

(BLACKOUT. THE VOICE OF THE
OVERSEER IS HEARD SPEAKING AS
A SERGEANT IN THE ARMY.)

OVERSEER: Carl Mazarik, Order Number 3306.

1st WHITE: Yes, sir.

OVERSEER: Start the white line over there...Fred Wallen-
berg, Order Number 7721.

2nd WHITE: Here, sir.

OVERSEER: Over there next to Mazarik. ...Kenneth Harper,
1863.

1st NEGRO: Yes, sir.

OVERSEER: New line over there for you colored fellows.
Paul Venutti, 542.

3rd WHITE: Right here.

OVERSEER: To your left in the white line....Wilbur Williams,
156.

(LIGHTS UP TO REVEAL THE YOUNG
MAN IN LINE AT ARMY INDUCTION
CENTER.)

YOUNG MAN: Here.

OVERSEER: On the right there....CARL ANDORN, 7432.

WHITE WORKER: Yes, sir.

OVERSEER: Line up, left.

WHITE WORKER: I came with Williams there, sir.

OVERSEER: What's that?

WHITE WORKER: My buddy and I came together.

Don't You Want to be Free--42

**OVERSEER:** What do you mean, came together? He's colored, ain't he?

**WHITE WORKER:** We're from the same neighborhood in Brooklyn, went to school together, played on the same football team, and since the war been working in the same defense plant together, same department, same union. We want to fight together.

**OVERSEER:** Oh, no! Not in this army. Colored and white ain't together. Get over there where I told you.

**YOUNG MAN:** Suppose I get in that line, too, then, with Andorn.

**OVERSEER:** No flesh talk out of you, private. You're in the Army now. Negroes and whites are separate here.

**YOUNG MAN:** Just the way the Red Cross separates blood! Heh? I guess you know Hitler, likes it that way, Sergeant.

**OVERSEER:** One more word out of you, and you'll head right straight to the guard house...Andorn, I told you to step over there.

**WHITE WORKER:** Look here, Sergeant! Wilbur and I work together, we vote together---why in hell can't we fight together?

**OVERSEER:** Listen, you can't that's why! Listen, both of you, in the army---orders is orders. That's the policy of the War Department. Its been that way for a long time.

**YOUNG MAN:** Well, times have changed! Today that policy helps Adolf Hitler, and company! We're fighting to change that Over There. And the quicker we change it over here, the quicker we'll win Over There.

(BLACKOUT. THE YOUNG MAN STANDS ALONE ON THE STAGE. HE ADDRESSES THE AUDIENCE.)

**YOUNG MAN:** Since way back in slavery times there have always been

with no more lynchings, race riots, jim crowisms, and color lines.
This is our home—your home and my home—so it's up to us to make
it a good home. In goodness there is truth. And so let's end our
—my play and your play—
play/with an old and very great American song that all of us can
sing—a song about goodness and truth and struggle and the vision
of victory that led men to fight the good fight way back in Civil
War days, and that reminds us now that truth is still marching on:
Get up and sing with ALL OF US—for this
is no play any more. This is now, today, and you. For you can sing
with me:

(ALL JOIN IN SINGING AS ENTIRE CAST FILES ONTO
THE STAGE FOR THE FINALE)

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,
He is trampling out the vintage......etc......

verse

(End)

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE? - 35 - Hughes

YOUNG MAN: I want that red and white and blue,
Mr. Editor,
To mean the same thing to me
As it does to you—
For I've been just as loyal
To my country as you have,
Don't you see?

So how about my country
Being loyal to me?

OVERSEER: Why-or-uh—you're a radical!

(ENTER A WHITE WORKER)

WHITE WORKER: I don't think so!

OVERSEER: Who're you?

WHITE WORKER: A white worker. You don't have to be colored to know what hard times are. Or to want a square deal. I can tell you that!

OVERSEER: Well, what do you want?

WHITE WORKER: A world where there won't be no hard times. And no color line—
labor with a white skin'll never be free as long as labor with
a black skin's enslaved.

OVERSEER: By God, you're a radical, too!

(WHITE WORKER AND YOUNG MAN SHAKE HANDS)

WHITE WORKER: I understand!

(EXITS, YELLING LOUDLY)

YOUNG MAN: Quiet, please—cause Harlem is tired!

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE? - 37 - Hughes

OVERSEER: Well, you see, in some cases your people are bad risks.

WIFE: And you won't let us live in them houses you builds for white folks, will you?

OVERSEER: No.

WIFE: But my money's good money, ain't it?

OVERSEER: Of course, it is.

WIFE: And you want my money, don't you?

OVERSEER: Why, yes. Of course, I do.

WIFE: Well, you ain't gonna get it! (PIERCELY) A company that won't hire none of my people, what won't half insure us, and then sends a man to Harlem to collect from me that keeps his hat on in the house! (OVERSEER, FRIGHTENED, SNATCHES OFF HIS HAT) Well, you ain't gonna get nary a penny of mine! Get out of here! This is 1944. There's a war on. My folks are fighting for democracy. Go on back downtown to your Jim Crow office. Tell 'em Harlem is Tired.

(SHE SHOOS HIM OUT. THE OVERSEER FLEES. BLACKOUT. HIS VOICE IS HEARD IN THE DARK AS A FACTORY FOREMAN HIRING WORKERS.) (FACTORY NOISES)

OVERSEER: What do you do?

1st WORKER: Laborer.

2nd WORKER: Polisher.

3rd WORKER: Machinist.

(LIGHTS UP TO REVEAL THE YOUNG MAN IN LINE. THE FOREMAN ADDRESSES HIM GRUFFLY)

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE- 39 - Hughes

OVERSEER: No, I ain't asked 'em ... Why don't you?

WHITE WORKER: Hey, fellows ...

(VARIOUS WORKERS' VOICES ARE HEARD OFFSTAGE)

Listen, do you guys object to working with Joe here?

WORKERS: Hell, No! Why should we?

I've got no objections.

Sure not—his a damn good machinist.

Production's got to rohl, ain't it?

Sure, let him in!

Give him a job—and let's get back to work.

WHITE WORKER: O. K. Fellows! (TO FOREMAN) Listen, Bud, ye've got a war to win. We need production, get me? What we want is a Victory Line—not a Color Line! If you don't employ this man, I'll take it up with the union council.

OVERSEER: O. K.; O. K! (TO THE NEGRO) Hey, you! Check in.

(BLACKOUT. THE VOICE OF THE OVERSEER IS HEARD SPEAKING AS A SERGEANT IN THE ARMY)

OVERSEER: Carl Mazzrik, Order Number 3306

1st WHITE: Yes, sir.

OVERSEER: Start the white line over there ... Fred Wallenberg, Order Number 7721.

2nd WHITE: Here, sir.

OVERSEER: Over there next to Mazarik ... Kenneth Harper, 1863.

1st NEGRO: Yes, sir.

3rd WHITE: Right here.

OVERSEER: To your left in the white line ... Wilbur Williams, 156.

## SETTING:
A bare stage, except for a lynch rope and an auction block. No scenery and very few props. No special lighting. Only actors needed--and an audience. There is no curtain, so a YOUNG MAN simply comes forward and begins to speak:

## YOUNG MAN:
Listen, folks! I'm one of the members of this group, and I want to tell you about our theatre. This is it right here! We haven't got any scenery, or painted curtains, because we haven't got any money to buy them. But we've got something you can't buy with money, anyway. We've got faith in ourselves. And in you. So we're going to put on a show. Maybe you'll like it because it's about you, and about us. This show is for you. And you can act in it, too, if you want to. This is your show, as well as ours.

Now, I'll tell you what this show is about. It's about me, except that it's not just about me now standing here talking to you. It's about me yesterday, and about me tomorrow. I'm colored, I guess you can see that. Well, this show is about what it means to be colored in America. Listen:

### CRASH OF CYMBALS

- 6 -

Look at them hands. Long fingers, just right
for picking cotton.

TO THE GIRL

Open your mouth, gal!

PUNCHES HER WITH THE WHIPSTOCK

Open your mouth.

GIRL OPENS HER MOUTH

See! Healthy! Nice white teeth! (WITH A LEER)

This girl's all right for most anything.

What am I offered for her, gentlemen? Speak
up! Make your bids. What am I offered for
her?

VOICE: One hundred dollars.

OVERSEER: Heh? One hundred dollars! What? That ain't
a starter! What am I offered for her,
gentlemen? I got a hundred.

VOICE: One hundred fifty!

OVERSEER: One hundred fifty! Hundred fifty! God for
cooking, washing, hoeing, anything you want.

VOICE: Two hundred!

- 15 -

Driven to the field---
Plowing life away
To make the cotton yield.

WOMAN:
Yes, honey, all you say is true, 'cause ---
There stands the white man,
Boss of the fields---
Lord of the land
And all that it yields.
And here bend the black folks,
Hands to the soil---
Bosses of nothing,
Not even our toil.

MAN:
The South! Honey, the South's so pretty,
magnolia trees and cotton, but sometimes
it's bad, too. So evil and bad!

ENTER OVERSEER BRINGING CHAIR

WOMAN:
The white folks won't pay us nothing, that's
the trouble. Besides the Jim Crow cars,
and the Jim Crow schools, and the lynchings---
when you work, they don't pay you nothing.

MAN:
That's what happened to Wilbur, our boy!
All over a little mite of money.

WOMAN:
Yes, that's what happened to Wilbur. He went to

- 16 -

ask the man for his money--and they killed him.

YOUNG MAN: (TRYING TO RESTRAIN HIMSELF) But I raised nine bales, Mr. Mallory. And my contract calls...

OVERSEER: Your contract? Hell! What about my bills?
What about the commisary store? What about
that sow belly and corn meal I been advancing
you all the year for you and your lazy old
woman, and them kids of yours that you thinks
too good to work in the cotton fields. Trying
to send pickaninnies to school! Huh! You're
an uppity black boy, anyhow. Talkin' about
what I owe you! Why even after nine bales
was sold you owed me more'n a hundred dollars...
...Why you ungrateful scoundrel! Get back
there in that field and start plowin' for
next year's crop.

- 22 -

VOICE: Two dollars a week.

VOICE: Two dollars a week.

YOUNG MAN: Now the streets down by the river are your streets. (TURNING AWAY) And the sinister shuttered houses of the bottoms hold a yellow girl seeking an answer to her questions.

VOICE(SOMEWHERE): Two dollars a week.

MULATTO GIRL: The good church folks won't even mention my name any more.

YOUNG MAN: But the white men who visit those houses...

MULATTO GIRL: Pay more money to me now than they ever did before when I worked in their kitchens. (DISTANT LAUGHTER)

YOUNG MAN: I'm going away. I got to go away.

MULATTO GIRL: Goodbye, Wilbur.

YOUNG MAN: I'M GOING UP NORTH (AS HE WALKS LEFT). I'm going far away.

-30-

Don't say that to me.
Listen, Mr. Jackson,
Don't say that to me,
Cause if you do,
We is bound to disagree.

**HUSBAND:** Baby, you ain't gonna leave me, is you? You's all I got.

**WIFE:** Yes, I'm gonna leave you. You all I got, too, but I sure can get along without you. So, good-bye!

Offstage fall chorus.

**ALL:**

SINGING

Blues, blues, blues!
Blues, blues, ... blues, blues, blues!
Blues is what's the matter
When you lose all you got to lose.

EXIT HUSBAND, RIGHT, WIFE, LEFT.

**YOUNG MAN:** Colored folks made the blues! Now everybody sings 'em. We made 'em out of being poor and lonely. And homes bust up, and desperate and broke. (RISES) But me, I haven't got any blues! I got a little job, not much. (LEANS AGAINST WALL) Got a little time to stand on the corner at night and watch the girls go by! Boy, these Harlem girls'ye sure got it! Looky yonder!

-31-

ENTER RIGHT, THE GIRL, BEAUTIFUL
IN A RED DRESS. AS SHE PASSES HE
RECITES: *Jesus, crosses.*

Man alive! When Susanna Jones wears red
Her face is like an ancient cameo
Turned brown by the ages.

**VOICE:** Come with a blast of trumpets,
*Jesus!*

**YOUNG MAN:** When Susanna Jones wears red
A queen from some time-dead Egyptian night
Walks once again.

**VOICE:** Blow trumpets, *Jesus!*

**YOUNG MAN:** And the beauty of Susanna Jones in red
Burns in my heart a love-fire sharp like pain.

**VOICE:** Sweet silver trumpets,
*Jesus!*

THE GIRL EXITS LEFT AND THE YOUNG
MAN TAKES OFF HIS COAT AND STARTS
POLISHING A BRASS SPITTOON. AS
HE WORKS HE TALKS TO HIMSELF.

**YOUNG MAN:** Gee, if I just had a little money, I think I'd
get married. But I kinder hate to start out
with nothing. Suppose we had a kid? Well,
I'd want my kid to have a decent break, that's
what. I Had to start to work soon as I was big
enough. My folks never did get ahead. There
ain't many decent jobs a colored boy can get
nohow. Here I am polishing spittoons in a
hotel. But I've travelled around plenty,

- 36 -

WOMAN: At six o'clock, or seven, or eight, you're through.

You've worked all day,

Then Harlem waits for you.

A bus, the sub, a taxi through the park,

YOUNG MAN: Oh, drums of life in Harlem after dark.

WOMAN: Oh, dreams! Oh, songs!

OLD MAN: A little rest at night.

WOMAN: Oh, sweet relief from faces that are white!

TAKES OFF HER APPRON, PUTS ON HER COAT
AND HAT, AND GOES HOME, CROSSING RIGHT TO
her boy,

OVERSEER: Say, George! Be careful of my corns!

OLD MAN: Yes, sir, Mr. Mallory, yes, sir!

THE OLD MAN BENDS OVER HIS TASK.

WOMAN: Good evening, son!

WOMAN: You lost your job?

YOUNG MAN: Yes, they laid me off tonight.

- 37 -

YOUNG MAN:

WOMAN:

Son, you ain't gonna give up no such thing.
Listen! You gonna keep right on just like I
been keeping on. Did you ever stop to think
about it, honey, about your mother, and all
the rest of us colored women---what we been
up against all through history, son. Sit
down and lemme tell you, far

PIANO MUSIC

I'm standing here today

light.

41

BOY:
I might of heard you, but this is Harlem speak-
ing now. Get me that spaghetti. I'm tired of
this stuff. Talking about you don't serve
colored people! Ain't I an American?

OVERSEER BACKS AWAY. OLD WOMAN ENTERS LEFT AS A PICKET CARRYING A SIGN THAT READS:

DON'T BUY HERE!

THIS STORE DOES NOT

EMPLOY NEGRO CLERKS

Slowly SHE WALKS BACK AND FORTH IN
FRONT OF A STORE BEARING THE SIGN:
"MEAT MARKET." THE OVERSEER RUSHES
OUT IN THE WHITE APRON OF A BUTCHER.

OVERSEER: What you doing in front of my store? What I done to you? What for you walking up and down with that sign, destructing my business? Long as you trade with me, what is this?

OLD WOMAN: You know what it is, Mr. Schultz! You know how long I been trading with you, don't you?

OVERSEER: More'n ten years, Mrs. Brown.

OLD WOMAN: And all that time, I ain't never seen a colored clerk in this store, not one. My boy growed up and went thrrough high school, and to college, and got more education than you ever had, but when one of your clerks died, and my boy came here to ask you for a job, you said: "No, you might give him a

- 49 -

OVERSEER: Yes?

WHITE WORKER: This is a war plant, and you're short as hell on skilled labor.

OVERSEER: That's right, brother. You know where I can get some more labors?

Lead me to 'em son.

WHITE WORKER: There's one right here.

POINTING OUT THE NEGRO

OVERSEER: Are you kiddinging? ... Say, is this any business of yours?

WHITE WORKER: Yes, it's my business. I'm a union man--- Local 642. This fellow's in my union.

OVERSEER: Is he? Well, now you know personally I don't mind, but plenty of fellows don't want to work with a--ew--colored fellow, union or not.

WHITE WORKER: Have you asked 'em?

OVERSEER: No, I ain't asked 'em. . . . Why don't you?

WHITE WORKER: Hey, fellows. . . .

VARIOUS WORKERS' VOICES ARE HEARD OFFSTAGE.

- 52 -

OVERSEER: Oh, no! Not in this army. Colored and white ain't together. Get over there where I told you.

YOUNG MAN: Suppose I get in that line, too, then, with Andorn.

OVERSEER: No fresh talk out of you, private. You're in the Army now. Negroes and whites are separate here.

YOUNG MAN: Just the way the Red Cross separates blood! Heh? I guess you know Hitler likes it that way, Sergeant.

OVERSEER: One more word out of you, and you'll head right straight to the guard house...Andorn, I told you to step over there.

WHITE WORKER: Look here, Sergeant! Wilbur and I work together, we vote together---why in hell can't we fight together?

OVERSEER: Listen...you can't that's why! Listen, both of you, in the army...orders is orders. That's the policy of the War Department. It's been that way for a long time.

YOUNG MAN: Well, times have changed! Today that policy helps Adolph Hitler and Company! We're fighting to change that Over There. And the quicker we change it over here, the quicker

- 53 -

we'll win Over There.

YOUNG MAN:

Since way back in slavery times there have
always been white Americans who believed in
freedom and equality for everybody---from
Harriett Beecher Stowe to Eleanor Roosevelt,
from John Brown to Alton Levy who was court-
martialed at Lincoln, Nebraska, a few months
ago. Today there are white Americans and
black Americans who believe in real Ameri-
canism. It's up to us to carry on in real
life--together, and make America the land
we want it to be. Right now, we've got a
big job in front of us---a war to win. With
men fighting and dying for freedom all
around the world---white men and black men--
we've got no right to hold up the war effort
on the home front for one moment with old-
fashioned Jim Crowisms, and race riots, and
color-lines. The enemy loves that sort of
thing. "Divide and conquer," is Hitler's
motto. We will not let him divide and
conquer.

THE WHITE WORKER ENTERS

WHITE WORKER:

No, we will not let him divide and conquer.

THEY SHAKE HANDS

NEW INSERTIONS FOR
Langston Hughes'
DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE

Following Page 29, insert new pages 29a and
29b in manuscript. Cut and omit first ten
lines on Page 30 of manuscript, down to the
speech of the OVERSEER.

Following first Page 34, remove entire page
of YOUNG MAN's long speech, omit, and insert
new Page 34a, instead.

On Page 29, first speech of BOY at top of
page, change last line to read: *Ain't I*
*an American?*

Langston Hughes

["YOUNG MAN: I don't know! I honest to God, don't know! This was 1935, this riot.", "Then the World War began---another war for democracy.", "WOMAN: My son was killed at an airport.", "Young man:", "But in 1943 there was another Harlem riot. We had a Jim Crow\narmy, a Jim Crow blood bank, and a Jim Crow Harlem right through\nthe war. But the second riot didn't solve anything either. You're\nright, riots don't solve anything. They're like wars. When all the\nfighting's over, people still have to learn how to live and get along\ntogether. Everybody has to learn to live and get along together.", "as a Dicewater", "OFF STAGE THE OVERSEER'S VOICE IS HEARD.", "OVERSEER: You want to live with white folks, You want social equality, That's your trouble! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,

WOMAN: It's everybody's dream, son---excusing that son of a
poor mother. It's everybody's dream all over the world.
In slavery time it was Sojourner's dream---and she sang
it! Listen!

CLEAR AND STRONG OUT OF THE PAST A WOMAN'S
VOICE IS SINGING.

VOICE: Oh, Freedom!

Oh, Freedom!

Oh, Freedom!

Freedom over me!

WOMEN: Oh, Freedom!

Freedom over me!

MEN: It's going to come true, mon!

WOMAN: Of course, it's going to come true, son, because---

MEN: Before I'd be a slave...

THE YOUNG MAN RISES.

YOUNG MAN: I got to be free!

I'd be buried in my grave...

I got to be free!

ENSEMBLE: And go home to my Lord and be free!

YOUNG MAN: Free!...Free!...Free! Right here in this world,

Free! On this earth, in America, free!

Folks:

I'd like to sing a new song,

But the words I cannot find.

I'd like to sing a new song.

I can hear it in my mind!

I'd like to sing a new song

Of a world that's fine and free.

And I'd like that world

To belong to you and me.

A NOTE ON "DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE?"

"DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE?" was first produced by the Harlem Suitcase Theatre where it was performed 135 times in 1937-1938, the record for a Harlem run of any play. The play was published in "The One-Act Play Magazine," October, 1938. Since that time it has been performed by college and little theatre groups in Los Angeles, Chicago, Pittsburgh, New Orleans, at Wilberforce and Talladega colleges, at Howard University in Washington, D. C. and elsewhere. Without scenery, the play may be done in "theatre-in-the-round" or on a regular stage. The OVERSEER, as a symbol of oppression and prejudice, plays many parts-- with slight changes of costume. There should be no waits between episodes, no breaks, one scene walking into the other, perhaps with a change of light, as a continuous panorama of the emotional history of the Negro from Africa to the present.

Langston Hughes

- 18 -

YOUNG MAN:

There ain't no place to run! (DARTING WILDLY ABOUT)

I hit the white man. I done hit the boss! And
there ain't no place to run. Nobody helps me.

Nobody to protect me.

HE APPROACHES THE LYNCH ROPE
THAT DANGLES FROM THE SKY AND
PUTS HIS HEAD INTO THE NOOSE.

I know it! You got me! All you crackers got

me! Dead! I'm dead!

HIS BODY SLUMPS AS IF DEAD.
NEWSBOYS ENTER SELLING PAPERS.

Negro lynched in Alabama! Big lynching near Selma!

Read all about it! Read about the lynching!

Big lynching!

THE PARENTS STAND DESIDE THE
HANGING YOUTH AS NEWSBOYS EXIT.

My boy is dead.

Darn the ones what kilt him! Darn their souls to hell!

John, my boy is dead, I'm all alone—and my boy is dead!

BEGINS TO SING.

I couldn't hear nobody pray.

Oh, Lady! Couldn't hear nobody pray.

Way down yonder by myself,

I couldn't hear nobody pray!

ENTER YOUNG MULATTO GIRL, WHO SITS
DOAN RESIDE HANGING BODY, CENTER.

- 37 -

WOMAN: Son, you ain't gonna give up no such a thing. Listen! You gonna keep right on just like I been keeping on. Did you ever stop to think about it, honey, about your mother, and all the rest of us colored women—what we've been up against all through history, son. Sit down and lemme tell you, for

PIANO MUSIC

I'm standing here today
Like a living story of that long dark way
That I had to climb, that I had to know
In order that our race might live and grow.
Look at my face, boy, dark as the night,
Yet shining like the sun with hope and
light.

- 42 -

Little janitor's job, but you got to have
a white clork." That's why I'm picketing out
here, Mr. Schultz. Harlem is tired! No work!
No money! I tell you, Harlem is tired!

OLD WOMAN BRANDISHES HER SIGN AND BUTCHER FLIES, TO TAKE OFF HIS APRON, PUT ON A COAT AND A PAIR OF PINK-HEZ WITH PLOWING BLACK RIBBON. HE IS EDITOR OF A DAILY PAPER AND CARRIES HANDFUL OF PROOFS. YOUNG MAN ENTERS.

YOUNG MAN: You're the editor of the DAILY SCRIBES?

OVERSEER: I am.

YOUNG MAN: I wrote a letter to your paper more'n two weeks ago about the hard times we colored folks've been having, and you didn't print it. I wish you'd tell me how come?

OVERSEER: Ah, yes! I remember that letter. I'll tell you, boy, why we didn't print it. That letter would stir up trouble. I know we're in a depression and times are hard, but you colored people have always been good citizens, peaceful and nice. Why get excited now? Just wait. Time'll be better—the Republicans will be in again soon. Believe in God, boy, in the good old stars and stripes, and be loyal to your country.

- 53 -

YOUNG MAN: Sure, mom, I got my dream. I got it right here—inside.

WOMAN: It's everybody's dream, son, — excusing that son-of-a-poor-mother. It's everybody's dream all over the world. In slavery time it was Sojourner Truth's dream — and she sang it. Listen!

CLEAR AND STRONG OUT OF THE PAST A WOMAN'S VOICE
SINGS AND, LIKE THE DAWN, THE LIGHTS GRADUALLY
COME ON STRONGER AND STRONGER, ILLUMINATING THE
FACES OF HARLEM.

THE VOICES OF OTHER WOMEN JOIN IN AND THE YOUNG MAN
AND HIS MOTHER SPEAK OVER THE SONG.

YOUNG MAN: It's going to come true, mom!

WOMAN: Of course, it's going to come true, son, because—
SUDDENLY THE MEN'S VOICES TAKE UP THE SONG:

MEN: Before I'd be a slave.......
THE YOUNG MAN RISES.

YOUNG MAN: I got to be free!

MEN: I'd be buried in my grave......

YOUNG MAN: I got to be free!

ENSEMBLE: And go home to my Lord
And be free!

THE YOUNG MAN TURNS TOWARD HIS PEOPLE.

YOUNG MAN: Free! Free! Free! Right here in this world, free!
On this earth, in America, free! Folks—

HE GOES TOWARD THE AUDIENCE SINGING:

"DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE?"

Addition suggested by Mack M. Greene
 insert at proper place)

YOUNG MAN
(concluding)

Hey, boy!
A clean spitoon on the altar of the Lord
A clean bright spitoon all newly polished,-
At least I can offer that!

(Enter Teacher, watches young man and speaks)

TEACHER Pardon me, I was just passing this way and noticed
the job you were doing and thought I would stop
and speak to you.

YOUNG MAN Who are you?

TEACHER I am a teacher.

YOUNG MAN What ism do you teach?

TEACHER (pleasantly) You misunderstand me. I don't teach
isms. I am a professor at one of the largest colleges
for Negroes in America. I am in this city studing
this year at the University. I hope to get my Ph. D.
degree at the end of this term.

YOUNG MAN A Ph. D. degree --- why are you interested in a
boy shining spitoons?

TEACHER That's just it. I used to shine spitoons myself
and I was right good at it, if I do say so myself.
Seeing you reminded me of my younger days.

YOUNG MAN You came all the way from being a porter to being
a college professor?

TEACHER That's right; and you can do it too if you set your
mind to it and work hard enough. You don't have to
be a porter all your life.

YOUNG MAN That is easy for you to say. You got all the breaks
in your life. Me - I've found it tough to get enough
to eat. The white man who controls the jobs and
the money don't care about us poor black boys.

TEACHER You are working now and you are eating aren't you?
All white men are not evil, thoughtless, and cruel.

YOUNG MAN The most of them that I have met are.

TEACHER How about Spingarn and Harmon? How about the General
Education Board and Julius Rosenwald?

YOUNG MAN Well how about them? What have they done?

-2-

**TEACHER** Why, you don't know about them? Every young Negro should know about these philanthropic men. Mr. Spingarn has given thousands in recognizing the distinguished achievements of Negroes in Science, Literature, Art, and Religion. The Harmon Foundation has established hundreds of recreational centers for Negroes throughout the Country. The General Education Board has established scores of colleges and high schools and employs hundreds of teachers for Negroes throughout the South. The Julius Rosenwald Fund contributes thousands of dollars annually for the advancement of higher education among Negroes. This money is contributed by white men. These agencies are run by white men. They are all for the Negro. There are others that I have not named. Why I am here is at school studying on a fellowship which was contributed out of the altruism of the white friends of my college.

**YOUNG MAN** You say you will get your Ph. D. at the end of this term, just what is a Ph. D.?

**TEACHER** My dear young man, a Ph. D. is the Doctor of Philosophy degree. It is the highest academic degree one can attain. I am taking my Ph. D. in History.

**YOUNG MAN** History, well, I don't know much about the history of the world although I have been interested in the history of my people. Maybe you can answer a question for me? I read a book written by a Negro who taught at Atlantic University. It is called "Black Reconstruction". The book was a little too deep for me but I remember this point the author made. He claims that most of the history books written for the public schools of America deliberately make the Negroes show up bad and that the Negro has really done more toward the building of America than most of the prejudiced white authors will give him credit for. Is this really so?

**TEACHER** (Thinking) Black Reconstruction---Black Reconstruction---

**YOUNG MAN** (Continuing) He says that the white children and the Negroes as well will never learn the truth about the history of this country as long as they are compelled to study it out of these books.

**TEACHER** Oh, yes---I've heard of that book. I haven't read it though. It is not on our prescribed list and is not thought of very highly. We are kept so busy I haven't bothered to read it.-- You see, I am especially interested in the History of England so I haven't paid much attention

-3-

to the textbooks of American History lately. You make
and interesting point, however. (Thoughtfully) It's
worth looking into. How far did you go in school?

YOUNG MAN The eighth grade---Do you actually mean you can't
answer my question?

TEACHER Well, I could hazzard a guess, but--my interest has been
mainly in another phase of history. You know, history
is a broad subject. One can master but a few phases of
it, at best. Now if you ask me about some phase of
English---

YOUNG MAN (Interrupting) I was interested when you told me
about the good side of the white man. I was impress-
ed when you told me how much he is giving to send
black boys and girls to school. The thought in my
mind then was, is he giving the Negro as much as the
Negro's giving him.--- Now I see he sent you to school
to learn what he wants you to learn. You dare not
look the truth in the face much less teach it if the
truth says a man is a man where you find him whether
his face is black or white?

TEACHER My friend you don't understand. This country is not
really as bad as you would make it seem. The whole
world recognizes America as a land of opportunity. Why--
with the little that you have you are better off than
most of the people living in Europe or Asia today, not
to mention your cousins in Africa. You need a world
point of view with that you'd see how well off you
really are.

YOUNG MAN The land of Opportunity.

Let America be America again
Let it be the dream it used to be
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America was never America to me)

Let American be the dream the dreamers dreamed
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It was never America to me)

O, Let my land be a land where liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath
But opportunity is real, and life is free
Equality is in the air we breathe

(There's never been equality for me nor freedom in
this "Homeland of the Free")

-4-

Pause-----

(Enter Overseer) (right)

OVERSEER Commere Boy

YOUNG MAN (Crossing right) Yes, Sir.

OVERSEER Listen, George

YOUNG MAN My name's Wilbur

OVERSEER Well, whatever your name is you know the rules of
this hotel. Who is that bum keeping you from your work?

YOUNG MAN He's no bum. He is a college professor.

OVERSEER And I'm Vice-President Garner -- As long as I've bess
here, you know I never allowed the porters to entertain
their no good friends during working hours. Go there
to the desk and get your moneym---you're fired.

YOUNG MAN Mr. Mallary, you don't understand. This man --I--
well, he and I just met. I've always done my job well.
Give me another chance?

OVERSEER We've got to cut down expenses anyway. Since the bank
crash folks ain't spending money. I'm getting rid of
all of you-----The bell-boys can do your job from now
on. (He walks to the other side and seats himself for
a shine. He calls to the old man who enters-right)
Hey, George!

Addition suggested by Mack M. Greene. Insert in proper place.

COPY

"DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE?"

YOUNG MAN

(concluding)

YOUNG MAN Who are you?

TEACHER I am a teacher.

TEACHER (pleasantly) You misunderstand me. I don't teach
isms. I am a professor at one of the largest colleges
for Negroes in America. I am in this city studying this
year at the University. I hope to get my Ph. D. degree
at the end of this term.

YOUNG MAN A Ph. D. degree----why are you interested in a boy
shining spitoons?

TEACHER That's just it. I used to shine spitoons myself, and
I was right good at it, if I do say so myself. Seeing
you reminded me of my younger days.

TEACHER That's right; and you can do it too, if you set your
mind to it and work hard enough. You don't have to
be a porter all your life.

YOUNG MAN That is easy for you to say. You got all the breaks
in your life. Me---I've found it tough to get enough
to eat. The white man who controls the jobs and
the money don't care about us poor black boys.

TEACHER You are working now and you are eating aren't you?
All white men are not evil, thoughless, and cruel.

-2-

YOUNG MAN Well, how about them? What have they done?

TEACHER Why, you don't know about them? Every young Negro should know about these philanthropic men. Mr. Spingarn has given thousands in recognizing the distinguished achievements of Negroes in Science, Literature, Art, and Religion. The Harmon Foundation has established hundreds of recreational centers for Negroes throughout the Country. The General Education Board has established scores of colleges and high schools and employs hundreds of teachers for Negroes throughout the South. The Julius Rosenwald Fund contributes thousands of dollars annually for the advancement of higher education among Negroes. This money is contributed by white men. These agencies are run by white men. They are all for the Negro. There are others that I have not named. Why I am here at school studying on a fellowship which was contributed out of the altruism of the white friends of my college.

YOUNG MAN You say you will get your Ph. D. degree at the end of this term, just what is a Ph. D. ?

TEACHER My dear young man, a Ph. D. is the Doctor of Philosophy degree. It is the highest academic degree one can attain. I am taking my Ph. D. in History.

YOUNG MAN History, well, I don't know much about the history of the world although I have been interested in the history of my people. Maybe you can answer a question for me? I read a book written by a Negro who teaches at Atlantic University. It is called "Black Reconstruction". The book was a little too deep for me but I remember this point the author made. He claims that most of the history books written for the public schools of America deliberately make the Negroes show up bad and that the Negro has really done more toward the building of America than most of the prejudiced white authors will give him credit for. Is this really so?

TEACHER
(Thinking) Black Reconstruction----Black Reconstruction----

-3-

**TEACHER** Oh, yes---I've heard of that book. I haven't read it though. It is not on our prescribed list and is not thought of very highly. We are kept so busy I haven't bothered to read it.---You see, I am especially interested in the History of England so I haven't paid much attention to the textbooks of American History lately. You make an interesting point, however. (Thoughtfully) It's worth looking into. How far did you to in school?

**YOUNG MAN** The eighth grade---Do you actually mean you can't answer my question?

**TEACHER** Well, I could hazzard a guess, but--my interest has been mainly in another phase of history. You know, history is a broad subject. One can master but a few phases of it, at best. Now if you ask me about some phase of English---

**YOUNG MAN** (Interrupting) I was interested when you told me about the good side of the white man. I was impressed when you told me how much he is giving to send black boys and girls to school. The thought in my mind then was, is he giving the Negro as much as the Negro's giving him.---Now I see he sent you to school to learn what he wants you to learn. You dare not look the truth in the face much less teach it if the truth says a man is a man where you find him whether his face is black or white?

**TEACHER** My friend you don't understand. This country is not really as bad as you would make it seem. The whole world recognizes America as a land of opportunity. Why---with the little that you have you are better off than most of the people living in Europe or Asia today, not to mention your cousins in Africa. You need a world point of view with that you'd see how well off you really are.

**YOUNG MAN** The land of Opportunity.

-4-

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above,

(It was never America to me)

Pause------

(Enter Overseer) (right)

OVERSEER Commere Boy

OVERSEER Listen, George

YOUNG MAN My name's Wilbur

OVERSEER And I'm Vice-President Garner--As long as I've boss
here, you know I never allowed the porters to enter-
tain their no good friends during working hours. Go
there to the desk and get your money---you're fired.

YOUNG MAN Mr. Mallary, you don't understand. This man---
well, he and I just met. I've always done my job
well. Give me another chance?

OVERSEER We've got to cut down expenses anyway. Since the bank
crash folks ain't spending money. I'm getting rid
of all of you---The bell-boys can do your job from
now on. (He walks to the other side and seats himself
for a shine. He calls to the old man who enters --right)
Hey, George!

Drafts - new inserts - 12-6-61
"Don't You Want To Be Free?"

Langston Hughes

-34-

**YOUNG MAN:** Is it red to want to live in a clean house on a decent street where the garbage trucks come by every day, not just when they feel like it? Is it red to want a chance to work on any job like other Americans? Is it red to want to vote in South Carolina? Or go to college in Mississippi? Or be safe from bombs in Florida? Or get a fair trial? Or ride on a bus without Jim Crow? Or rent a house anyplace?

**OVERSEER:** The trouble with Negroes like you is, you don't know your place.

**YOUNG MAN:** That's true, Mr. Dixiecrat, we don't know our place--not the one you want us to keep.

**OVERSEER:** You're red! Standing up there making speeches! Subversive--playing in plays like this one! A traitor--I'm white and you're talking back to me!

**YOUNG MAN:** You ain't no more than I am.

SHAKING WITH ANGER THE OVERSEER ERUPTS

**OVERSEER:** Why, you b-b-b-black son-of-a-so-and-so! I'm-I'm gonna call the Department of Justice.

STILL QUIETLY THE YOUNG MAN ANSWERS

**YOUNG MAN:** That's what we want, sir--justice. But not your kind. Not the kind Hitler liked--or that they liked in South Africa. No, Mister, not that kind! You know I fought in Korea. See! I've got a veterans' cap.

PULLS CAMP FROM POCKET, PUTS IT ON

I had a bullet through my shoulder. I've got a stake in democracy, too. We all have. When you see Harlem's fists doubled up, it's because you have kicked democracy around. When you see our faces frowning, it's because you've spit in our faces. When you call me red, it's because you've squeezed the blood out of my heart. My blood is red. My heart beats the same as yours. I dream, too--but I hope my dreams are the same.

THE LIGHTS DIM ON THE HARLEMITES BEHIND HIM AND ONLY THE YOUNG MAN IS VISIBLE IN THE SPOTLIGHT.

Once America had a very great dream. I read about

-36-

YOUNG MAN: But that's not the answer either, folks, running him away. All white people are not like that man. If they were, America wouldn't mean anything anymore. He's not a man, anyhow, he's an idea—an ugly, evil, worn-out idea still alive in the world. But he's on the run—and all his ugly old ideas are on the run, too—all over the world—from Harlem to Dixie to South Africa. College kids picketting for a cup of coffee and a hamburger in the South—and winning in a lot of places. Freedom Riders riding for an end to Jim Crow signs and Jim Crow on busses, trains, in stations. Everytime they ride my heart rides with them. But I'm not there. I'm here in Harlem. What can I do? Give money? Join the NAACP, join CORE? Sure! But what else can I do. Maybe you can tell me. Sometimes I don't know. Sometimes I get lost....

HIS MOTHER APPEARS SPEAKING
OVER HIS SHOULDERS.

MOTHER: Frederick Douglass got lost sometimes, too, son. And Moses, long before that. Harriett Tubman. And I reckon John Brown. But they kept going on! Kept on—cleaning out underbrush till they found the road— That man you was just talking to— that son-of-a-poor-mother, he's just underbrush to clear out of the road—so the dream can march. You got your dream, ain't you? You got your hope?

YOUNG MAN: Sure, mom, I got my dream. I got it right here— inside.

MOTHER: It's everybody's dream, son—excusing that son-of-a-poor-mother. It's everybody's dream all over the world. In slavery time it was Sojourner Truth's dream—and she sang it. Listen!

CLEAR AND STRONG OUT OF THE PAST
A WOMAN'S VOICE SINGS AND, LIKE
THE DAWN, THE LIGHTS GRADUALLY
COME UP STRONGER AND STRONGER,
ILLUMINATING THE FACES OF HARLEM.

THE VOICES OF THE OTHER WOMEN JOIN
IN AND THE YOUNG MAN AND HIS MOTHER
SPEAK OVER THE SONG.

- 39 -

**YOUNG MAN:** Is it red to want to live in a clean house in a decent street where the garbage trucks come by every day, not just when they feel like it? Is it red to want a chance to work on any job anyone like other Americans? Is it red to want to vote in South Carolina? Or should we go to college in Mississippi? Or be safe from bombs in Florida? Or get a fair trial? Or rent a house in any place?

Corrida on a bus without Jim Crow?

**YOUNG MAN:** That's true, Mr. Dixiecrat, we don't know our place---
not the one you want us to keep.

**OVERSEER:** You're a red! Standing up there making speeches! Subversive---playing in plays like this one! A traitor---I'm white and you're talking back to me!

**OVERSEER:** Why, you b-b-b-black son-of-a-bitch! I'm---I'm gonna
call the Department of Justice.

**YOUNG MAN:** That's what we want, sir---justice. But not your kind.
Not the kind Hitler liked, or Mussolini, or that guy in
South Africa, or that other guy in Korea. No, Mister, not that kind! You
know I fought in the Army. See! I've got a veterans' cap.

PULLS CAP FROM POCKET, PUTS IT ON

I had a bullet through my shoulder. I've got a
stake in democracy, too. We all have. When you see
Harlem's fists doubled up, it's because you have kicked
democracy around. When you see our faces frowning, it's
because you've spit on our faces. When you call me red,
it's because you've squeezed the blood out of my heart.
My blood is red. It took the Red Cross a long time to
find it out, but my blood is red! My heart beats the
same as yours. I dream dreams, too---but I hope my
dreams aren't the same.

still alive in the world. But he's on the run---
and all his ugly old ideas are on the run, too---
all over the world---from Harlem to Dixie to South
Africa. College kids picketting for a cup of coffee
and a hamburger in the South---and winning in a lot
places. Freedom Riders riding for an end to Jim Crow
signs and Jim Crow onbusses, trains, in stations.
Everytime they ride my heart ridss with them. But
I'm not there. I'M here in Harlem. What can I do?
Give money? Join the NAACP, join CORE? Sure! But what
else can I do. Maybe you can tell me. Sometimes I don't
know. Sometimes I get lost......

HIS MOTHER APPEARS SPEAKING OVER
HIS SHOULDER.

Frederick Douglass got lost sometimes, too, son. And
Moses, long before that. Harriett Tubman. And I reckon
John Brown. But they kept going on! Kept ãn---cleaning out

- 4 -

## HOLDS UP HIS WHIP

Congo women can't be beat for working, and she's a Congo woman. Good for house or fields. Look at them legs, wiry and strong.

## FEELS HER LEGS

## TO THE GIRL

Open your mouth, gal!

## PUNCHES HER WITH WHIPSTOCK

Open your mouth.

## GIRL OPENS HER MOUTH

See! Healthy! (WITH A LEER) This girl's all right for most anything. What am I offered for her, gentlemen? Speak up! Make your bids. What am I offered for her?

**VOICE:** One hundred dollars.

**OVERSEER:** Heh? One hundred dollars! What? That ain't a starter! What am I offered for her, gentlemen? I go a hundred.

**VOICE:** One hundred fifty.

**OVERSEER:** One hundred fifty! Hundred fifty! Good for cooking, washing, hoeing, anything you want.

**VOICE:** Two hundred!

**OVERSEER:** That's more like it! Two hundred! Two...

**VOICE:** Two hundred ten.

**VOICE:** Two hundred twenty.

**VOICE:** Two hundred fifty.

**OVERSEER:** Two hundred fifty! Two hundred fifty...

**VOICE:** Three hundred!

- 6 -

OVERSEER: Ah! Here's a nice fine black buck!
Strong's you'd want to see.
Boy, get up on that block
And make some dough for me!

YOUNG MAN: No!

OVERSEER: What?...No!
Who're you talkin' to?

YOUNG MAN: You!

OVERSEER: You must've gone crazy
Talking that way to me.
Get up on that block!

YOUNG MAN: No! I want to be free!

KICKS BLOCK OFF STAGE

OVERSEER: Free?

YOUNG MAN: Yes, free!
Not sold like a slave.
Before I'll be sold again
I'll go down to my grave.

OVERSEER STRIKES HIM WITH WHIP

GIRL: Oh!

YOUNG MAN: No! No! No!

HE BACKS AWAY AND FALLS BEFORE THE
BLOWS OF THE OVERSEER'S WHIP

OVERSEER: I'll teach you to want to be free! To talk
back to me!

LASHES HIM. YOUNG MAN FALLS

GIRL: OH! ... OH! ... OH!

OLD MAN: BEGINS TO SING

Go down, Moses,
Way down in Egypt land,
And tell ole Pharaoh

- 8 -

**YOUNG MAN:** Sojourner Truth another. Some they beat to death. Some they killed. But some of us always kept on, even though the way looked dark.

**OLD WOMAN:** So dark! So dark!

**SINGS OVER BODIES OF THE DEAD**

Oh, nobody knows
The trouble I've seen!
Nobody knows but Jesus.
Nobody knows
The trouble I've seen.
Glory! Hallelujah!

Sometimes I'm up
Sometimes I'm down,
Oh, yes, Lawd!
Sometimes I'm almost
To the ground
Oh, yes, Lawd!

**CHORUS:** Oh, nobody knows
The trouble I've seen.....

**OLD WOMAN:** AS THE CHORUS HUMS

Children scattered. Home gone. Sons and daughters sold away. I don't know where they are. (RISES) But I look at the stars and they look at the stars. And somehow I feels better. And now I walks the world lookin' for truth. I'se a so-journer lookin' for truth.

**YOUNG MAN:** Sojourner Truth!

**OLD WOMAN:** Yes, son.

**YOUNG MAN:** Is we ever gonna be free?

**OLD WOMAN:** Son, we gonna be free. Aint you heard them names?

**YOUNG MAN:** What names?

**OLD WOMAN:** Black names and white names in the air. Listen!

**FLAG RISES**

**VOICES:** Douglass! Douglass! Frederick Douglass! William Lloyd Garrison! Emerson! .... Whittier! ... Lowell. ... Douglass! John Brown! Lincoln! John Brown! Abraham Lincoln!

- 10 -

MAN:
Leaves us hungry, ragged
As we were before.
Year by year goes by
And we are nothing more
Than a herd of Negroes

Driven to the field—
Plowing life away
To make the cotton yield.

WOMAN:
Yes, honey, all you say is true, 'cause—

There stands the white man,
Boss of the fields—
Lord of the land
And all that it yields.

And here bend the black folks,
Hands to the soil—
Bosses of nothing,
Not even our toil.

MAN:
The South! Honey, the South's so pretty, magnolia trees and cotton, but sometimes it's bad, too. So evil and bad.

ENTER OVERSEER BRINGING CHAIR

WOMAN:
The white folks won't pay us nothing, that's the trouble. Besides the Jim Crow cars, and the Jim Crow schools, and the lynchings—when you work, they don't pay you nothing.

MAN:
That's what happened to Wilbur, our boy! All over a little mite o' money.

WOMAN:
Yes, that's what happened to Wilbur. He went to ask the man for his money—and they killed him.

YOUNG MAN:
Mr. Mallory, the crop's all sold, ain't it? Can you gimme my part now?

OVERSEER:
Your part? What you mean your part, George?

- 15 -

**YOUNG MAN:** Now the streets down by the river are your streets.
(TURNING AWAY) And the sinister shuttered houses
of the bottoms hold a yellow girl seeking an answer
to her questions.

**VOICE:** Five dollars a week.

**MULATTO GIRL:** The good church folks won't even mention my name
any more.

**YOUNG MAN:** But the white men who visit those houses....

**MULATTO GIRL:** Pay more money to me now than they ever did before
when I worked in their kitchens.

DISTANT LAUGHTER

**YOUNG MAN:** I'm going away. I got to go away.

**MULATTO GIRL:** Goodbye, Wilbur.

**YOUNG MAN:** (WITHOUT LOOKING BACK, HE WALKS LEFT) I'm going
up North. I'm going far away.

SHE POWDERS HER FACE

My old man's a white old man!
My old mother's black!
But if I ever cursed my white old man
I take my curses back.

If I ever cursed my black old mother
And wished she were in hell,
I'm sorry for that evil wish
And now I wish her well.

My old man died in a fine big house.
My ma died in a shack.
I wonder where I'm gonna die,
Being neither white nor black?

AS SHE WALKS AWAY, A PIANO BEGINS
TO PLAY THE BLUES, THE SAD OLD
NEGRO BLUES. SHE EXITS RIGHT.
THE YOUNG MAN SINGS AS HE PICKS
UP HIS PACK AND BEGINS TO TRUDGE
THE ROAD ALONE.

- 16 -

YOUNG MAN:

Goin' down de road, Lawd,
Goin' down de road,
Down de road, Lawd,
Way, way down de road.
Got to find somebody
To help me carry dis load.

Sun's a-settin'.
This is what I'm gonna sing.
Sun's a-settin'
This is what I'm gonna sing:
I feel de blues a-comin'
Wonder what de blues'll bring?

Road, Road, Road, o!
Road, road...road...road, road!
Road, Road, Road, O!
On de No'thern road!
These Mississippi towns ain't
Fit fer a hoppin' toad.

THE YOUNG MAN SITS DOWN BESIDE
THE ROAD. ENTER WIFE, RIGHT, AND
BOY, LEFT.

Gee, but I got the blues.

THE PIANO CONTINUES THE SAD
WEARY NOTES OF THE BLUES.

Do you-all know what the blues is?

WIFE:

The blues ain't nothin'
But the dog-gone heart's disease.
I say, the blues ain't nothin' but
The dog-gone heart's disease.
When you got the blues, you
Sho can't find no ease.

SIGHS

I got the blues, too. Reckon I'll run down the
street a minute, see can I walk 'em off!

SHE DRESSES AND POWDERS TO EXIT
LATER FROM HER DREARY FLAT. AT
LEFT, UNDRESSING IN A DARK HALL
BEDROOM, THE BOY ANSWERS, TOO.

- 20 -

WIFE:
Now, listen here, Mr. Jackson,
Don't say that to me.
Listen, Mr. Jackson,
Don't say that to me,
Cause if you do,
We is bound to disagree

HUSBAND:
Baby, you ain't gonna leave me, is you? You's
all I got.

WIFE:
Yes, I'm gonna leave you. You all I got, too, but
I sure can get along without you. So, goodbye!

OFF STAGE FULL CHORUS

ALL:
Blues, blues, blues!
Blues, blues...blues, blues, blues!
Blues is what's the matter
When you loses all you got to lose.

YOUNG MAN:
Colored folks made the blues! Now everybody sings
'em. We made 'em out of being poor and lonely.
And homes busted up, and desperate and broke.

RISES

But me, I haven't got any blues! I got a little job,
not much. (LEANS AGAINST WALL) Got a little time
to stand on the corner at night and watch the girls
go by! Boy, these Harlem girls've sure got it!
Looky younder!

ENTER A VERY BEAUTIFUL BROWN
GIRL IN A RED DRESS. PAUSES, CROSSES

VOICE:
Come with a blast of trumpet, Jesus!

YOUNG MAN:
When Susanna Jones wears red
A queen from some time-dead Egyptian night
Walks once again.

VOICE:
Blow trumpets, Jesus!

YOUNG MAN:
And the beauty of Susanna Jones in red
Burns in my heart a love-fire sharp like pain.

- 22 -

AS OLD MAN SHINES HIS SHOES, WOMAN
ENTERS LEFT, BEGINS TO DUST

OLD MAN:

Yes, sir! Yes, sir!
I must say yes, sir.
To you all the time.
Yes, sir! Yes, sir!
All my days
Climbing up a great big mountain
Of yes, sirs.
Rich old white men
Owns the world.
Gimme your shoes
To shine.
Yes, sir, boss.
Yes, sir!

YOUNG MAN:

POINTING TO THE OLD MAN

That was my grand-father.

ON THE LEFT THE WOMAN IN A MAID'S
APRON IS WORKING

And my mother, out working for the white folks.
When I was a kid, never nobody home to take care
of me. I don't want my kids to grow up that way.
Look at my mother.

WOMAN:

All day, subdued, polite—
Thoughtful to the faces that are white.

OLD MAN:

Oh, tribal dance!
Oh, drums!
Oh, veldt at night!

YOUNG MAN:

Forgotten watch-fires on a hill somewhere!

OLD MAN:

Oh, songs that do not care!

WOMAN:

At six o'clock, or seven, or eight you're through
You've worked all day,
Then Harlem waits for you.
A bus, the sub, a taxi through the park.

YOUNG MAN:

WOMAN:

Oh, dreams! O, songs!

OLD MAN:

A little rest at night.

WOMAN:

- 23 -

TAKES OFF APRON, PUTS ON HER COAT
AND HAT, STARTS FOR HOME, CROSSING
RIGHT TOWARD HER BOY.

OVERSEER: And polish those shoes good now! I want to see
my face in 'em when you ge through.

OLD MAN BENDS OVER HIS TASK

WOMAN: Good-evening, son!

WOMAN: You lost your job?

WOMAN? Well, honey, you'll find another one. Maybe.

Son, you ain't gonna give up no such a thing. Listen!
You gonna keep right on just like I been keeping on.
Did you ever stop to think about it, honey, about your
mother, and all the fest of us colored women—what
we been up against all through history, son. Sit down
and lemme tell you, for

PIANO MUSIC

- 26 -

OVERSEER BACKS AWAY. OLD WOMAN ENTERS LEFT AS A PICKET CARRYING A SIGN READING:

SLOWLY SHE WALKS BACK AND FORTH IN FRONT OF STORE BEARING SIGN: "MEAT MARKET." OVERSEER RUSHES OUT IN WHITE APRON OF A BUTCHER.

OLD WOMAN: And all that time, I ain't never seen a colored clerk in this store, not one. My boy growed up and went through high school, and to college, and got more education that you ever had, but when one of your clerks died, and my boy came here to ask you for a job, you said: "No, you might give him a little janitor's job, but you got to have a white clerk." That's why I'm picketing out there, Mr. Schultz. Harlem is tired! No work! No money! I tell you, Harlem is tired!

OLD WOMAN BRANDISHES HER SIGN AND BUTCHER FLEES, TO TAKE OFF HIS APRON, PUT ON A COAT AND A PAIR OF PINCE-NEZ WITH FLOWING BLACK RIBBON. HE IS EDITOR OF A DAILY PAPER AND CARRIES HANDFUL OF PROOFS. YOUNG MAN ENTERS:

YOUNG MAN: You're the editor of the DAILY SCRIBE?

OVERSEER: I am.

- 29 -

EDITOR RUSHES OUT BRANDISHING PAPERS.\ENTER WIFE AT LEFT, BROOM IN HAND.

WIFE:

WIFE SWEEPS. OVERSEER REMOVES GLASSES, PUTS ON DARK HAT, CARRIES A BRIEF CASE, NOW AN INSURANCE MAN. GOES TO WIFE'S DOOR AND KNOCKS.

Yes?

WIFE: You want me to pay you?

OVERSEER: Of course. It's due, isn't it?

WIFE: Um-hum! You from the Cosmopolitan Company, ain't you, what builds those houses where I can't live?

OVERSEER: I am.

WIFE: And you don't hire no colored folks in your office, do you?

OVERSEER: Not so far as I know. Why?

WIFE: You won't give colored people certain kinds of policies, you carry neither, will you?

WIFE: But my money's *good* money, ain't it?

OVERSEER: Of course it is.

OVERSEER: Why, yes. Of course I do.

WIFE: Well, you ain't gonna get it. A company that won't hire none of my people, what won't half insure us, won't rent to us, and then sends a man to Harlem to collect from me that keeps his hat on in my house!

OVERSEER, FRIGHTENED, SNATCHES OFF HAT

Well, you ain't gonna get a penny of mine! Get out of here. This is 1944. There's a war on. My folks are fighting for democracy, too. Go on back to your Jim Crow office. Tell 'em Harlem is tired.

-39-

HOUSEWIFE SHOOS OVERSEER OUT.
HE EXITS

I'm gonna join a colored insurance company myself.

HER HUSBAND IS SEEN STANDING ON A
STREET CORNER, OUT OF WORK, DISCOURAGED-
AND MAD. HE SINGS.

HUSBAND:
I got them depression blues—
But I'm too damn mean to cry!
Them depression-time blues—
But I'm too damn mean to cry!
Tired of living like a dog—
But I don't intend to die.

COP'S VOICE: Hey, you! Move on! Get going now! Move!

I hear you, Mister Policeman.
You tell me to move,
But where do you want me to go?
Move, move, move....move!
Where in the hell do you want me to go?
Sometimes I think you don't know your
Head from your elbow.

COP POUNDS HIS CLUB ON PAVEMENT.

COP'S VOICE: Get on down the street! Get off the corner! Move! Move!

MUSIC OF BLUES UP STRONG AS HUSBAND
EXITS SLOWLY, "TOO DAMN MEAN TO CRY."
AT RIGHT THE OVERSEER IS SEATED IN A
CHAIR AS A LAUNDRY BOSS. HE BEGINS TO
PAY OUT MONEY AS SEVERAL GIRLS PACE
RESTLESSLY ABOUT IN FRONT OF HIM AT
LEAVING TIME.

MULATTO GIRL: Chile, you better wrap up good. It's kinder chilly outside.

GIRL: That wind on Lenox Avenue'll cut you a brand new one.

LAUNDRY WORKER: Catch your death of pneumonia, working all day in this steaming oven.

GIRL: You told that right.

MULATTO GIRL: I sure am glad it's pay day. Let's get in line here and get our money.

- 30 -

OVERSEER: Here, Dorothy Mae! Here's your wages! Now, don't get drunk tonight....Here, Miss Lizzie, something for your preacher tomorrow. Behave yourself in church! Hear?

AS A GOOD-LOOKING LAUNDRY WORKER
APPROACHES FOR HER WAGES

Say, Toots, uh-er, listen....

LAUNDRY WORKER: Toots, who?

OVERSEER: Why, er-er....

LAUNDRY WORKER: Is this ~~Twenty~~ Dollars all you're giving me for a whole week's work in your laundry?

OVERSEER: Piece work, that's all you've earned, girlie. But now-er--

LAUNDRY WORKER: Sixty hours in this steaming hole, and that's all I've earned? You must be crazy! I've ironed six hundred shirts this week, at least.

OVERSEER: Well, ~~Twenty~~ Dollars is your salary.

LAUNDRY WORKER: Then you take that salary and stick it on back in your drawer from now on, 'cause I'm tired of working for nothing. Harlem is tired! You're living in a big house up in White Plains, and me slaving all day for nothing in your laundry. You making all your money off colored folks, and taking every dollar of it out of Harlem to spend. I'm tired!

THE OVERSEER JUMPS UP

OVERSEER: You must belong to the union. You move on before I call the police. You're an agitator!

LAUNDRY WORKER: What police? Some of these days *you're* going to have to move on, because Harlem is tired. Fact is, I think you ought to move now.

SHE APPROACHES HIM ANGRILY

WIFE: Yes, you ought to move!

BOY: Get going!

THE OVERSEER CLUTCHES HIS MONEY AND RUSHES AWAY BUT, BEFORE HE CAN ESCAPE, HE IS SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE POURING IN FROM ALL SIDES, THREATENING HIM AND CRYING IN ANGER AS THEIR VOICES MOUNT TO A CRESCENDO OF SOUND AND INTO THE BREAKING OF GLASS, THE CLANGING OF

- 32 -

PATROL BELLS, AND THE WAIL OF
SIRENS. THE HARLEM RIOTS OF
MARCH 19, 1935, BEGIN

WOMAN: Gouging me for rent.

BOY: You won't serve colored people!

YOUNG MAN: Won't gimme a job!

LAUNDRY WORKER: Working us like slaves!

OLD MAN: Living on Harlem!

WOMAN: Getting rich off black people!

YOUNG MAN: Jim Crow landlord!

WOMAN: Won't rent us a house downtown!

OLD MAN: Starving my children!

LAUNDRY WORKER: Get out of Harlem!

WIFE: Yes, get out of Harlem!

OVERSEER: Help! Help! Help! What have I done? Help me?

BLOWS POLICE WHISTLE, FRANTICALLY
SEEKING ESCAPE

Help!...Help!...Help!...Help!...

FADING INTO DARKNESS, NEWSBOYS ENTER
FROM ALL DIRECTIONS CIRCULATING
THROUGH AUDIENCE CRYING:

NEWSBOYS: Riot in Harlem! Negroes running riot! Riot! Read all about it! Riot! Riot! Riot! 1935, March 19th, riot in Harlem! Riot in Harlem! Read all about it! Harlem is tired! Harlem's tired!

AS SIRENS DIE DOWN THE MOTHER SPEAKS
QUIETLY:

WOMAN: Harlem is so tired.

BOY: Yes, Harlem's tired.

LAUNDRY WORKER: Harlem is tired!

YOUNG MAN: You understand, folks? Harlem's tired.

- 32 -

HE SITS DOWN ON STEPS AT FRONT OF
PLATFORM WITH THE PEOPLE OF HARLEM
MASSED BEHIND HIM AS A VOICE FROM
THE AUDIENCE CRIES:

MAN IN AUDIENCE: But say?

YOUNG MAN: Yes?

MAN IN AUDIENCE: Riots won't solve anything, will they, brother?

YOUNG MAN: No, riots won't solve anything.

MAN IN AUDIENCE: Then what must we do?

YOUNG MAN: I don't know. I honest to God don't know. This was 1935, this riot. Then a few years later World War II began—another war for democracy.

HUSBAND: My brother died in the South Pacific.

WOMAN: My son was killed at Anzio.

YOUNG MAN: But in 1943 there was another Harlem riot. We had a Jim Crow army, a Jim Crow blood bank, a Jim Crow Harlem right through the war.

THOUGHTFULLY, HE TELLS THE PEOPLE

But that second riot didn't solve anything either. You're right, riots don't solve anything. They're like wars. When all the fighting's over, people *still* have to live and get along together. Everybody's got to learn to live and get along together.

AS A DIXIECRAT IN A WIDE TEXAS HAT AND A FLOWING BLACK TIE, THE OVERSEER ENTERS POINTING AN ANGRY FINGER AT THE YOUNG MAN FROM THE AUDIENCE

OVERSEER: *You* want to live with white folks, that's your trouble! You want social equality.

VERY QUIETLY THE YOUNG MAN ANSWERS

YOUNG MAN: I want every kind of equality there is, Mister! ■ Human equality!

OVERSEER: You're a red, that's what you are! A red!

-34-

YOUNG MAN: Is it red to want to live in a clean house on a decent street where the garbage trucks come by every day, not just when they feel like it? Is it red to want a chance to work on any job like other Americans? Is it red to want to vote in South Carolina? Or go to college in Mississippi? Or be safe from bombs in Florida? Or get a fair trial? Or ride on a bus without Jim Crow? Or rent a house anyplace?

OVERSEER: The trouble with Negroes like you is, you don't know your place.

YOUNG MAN: That's true, Mr. Dixiecrat, we don't know our place--not the one you want us to keep.

OVERSEER: You're red! Standing up there making speeches! Subversive--playing in plays like this one! A traitor--I'm white and you're talking back to me!

YOUNG MAN: You ain't no more than I am.

OVERSEER: Why, you b-b-b-black son-of-a-so-and-so! I'm--I'm gonna call the Department of Justice.

YOUNG MAN: That's what we want, sir--justice. But not your kind. Not the kind Hitler liked--or that they liked in South Africa. No, Mister, not that kind! You know I fought in Korea. See! I've got a veterans' cap.

I had a bullet through my shoulder. I've got a stake in democracy, too. We all have. When you see Harlem's fists doubled up, it's because you have kicked democracy around. When you see our faces frowning, it's because you've spit in our faces. When you call me red, it's because you've squeezed the blood out of my heart. My blood is red. My heart beats the same as yours. I dream, too--but I hope my dreams are't the same.

-35-

it in school. The officers told us about it in
the army. The radio talks about it all the time
now. I guess I got caught up in the tail-end of
that dream. I couldn't help it. I'm American, too.
Even slaves dreamed about liberty and freedom before
the Civil War--and Negroes and white folks fought
for it--Nat Turner, Garrison, Douglass, John Brown,
Sojourner Truth, Abraham Lincoln, the Union Armies.
But I guess you were on the Rebel side, Overseer. I
guess you wore a Klan robe during Reconstruction
days. I guess you belonged to the Bund in Jersey
during World War II. I guess you hated Roosevelt.
I guess now your name is Congressman--

OVERSEER: Never mind what my name is now! You're a black red! I'll build a concentration camp for you--and all the rest of your Negro leaders.

YOUNG MAN: I'm not a leader, Mister.

OVERSEER: You might be, so I'll put you there anyhow. All your Negro leaders in Harlem--

YOUNG MAN: There're not many Negro leaders left in Harlem-- except Adam Powell. They've all moved to the suburbs like white folks. There's only us left, Mister.

FROM THE CROWD IN THE DARKNESS
VOICES ARE HEARD.

HUSBAND: And we're too damn mean to cry!

LAUNDRY WORKER: Get going! Move!

HUSBAND: It's your time to go.

VARIOUS VOICES: Yes, move!
Move!
Move!

OVERSEER: You wouldn't dare touch me!

CROWD: Oh, no?....Aw-w-ww-ww-w-.....

OVERSEER, FRIGHTENED, FLEES
THROUGH THE AUDIENCE CURSING AS
THE MURMURING ROAR OF THE CROW
MOUNTS. YOUNG MAN SPEAKS QUIETLY.

-36-

YOUNG MAN: But that's not the answer either, folks, running him away. All white people are not like that man. If they were, America wouldn't mean anything anymore. He's not a man, anyhow, he's an idea-- an ugly, evil, worn-out idea still alive in the world. But he's on the run--and all his ugly old ideas are on the run, too--all over the world-- from Harlem to Dixie to South Africa. College kids picketting for a cup of coffee and a hamburger in the South--and winning in a lot of places. Freedom Riders riding for an end to Jim Crow signs and Jim Crow on busses, trains, in stations. Everytime they ride my heart rides with them. But I'm not there. I'm here in Harlem. What can I do? Give money? Join the NAACP, join CORE? Sure! But what else can I do. Maybe you can tell me. Sometimes I don't know. Sometimes I get lost.....

MOTHER: Frederick Douglass got lost sometimes, too, son. And Moses, long before that. Harriett Tubman. And I reckon John Brown. But they kept going on! Kept on---cleaning out underbrush till they found the road-- That man you was just talking to-- that son-of-a-poor-mother, he's just underbrush to clear out of the road---so the dream can march. You got your dream, ain't you? You got your hope?

YOUNG MAN: Sure, mom, I got my dream. I got it right here-- inside.

MOTHER: It's everybody's dream, son--excusing that son-of-a-poor-mother. It's everybody's dream all over the world. In slavery time it was Sojourner Truth's dream--and she sang it. Listen!

Finale for:
"DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE?"

NEW WORLD OF TOMORROW

Lyrics by
Langston Hughes
Music by
Sammy Heyward

I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG,
BUT THE WORDS I CANNOT FIND.

I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG.
I CAN HEAR IT IN MY MIND.

I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG
OF A WORLD THAT'S FINE AND FREE—
FOR THE NEW WORLD OF TOMORROW
MUST BELONG TO YOU AND ME!

I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG,
YES, A SONG OF BLACK AND WHITE.

I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG,
EVERYBODY TREATED RIGHT.

I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG
OF A WORLD OF LIBERTY—
FOR THE NEW WORLD OF TOMORROW
WILL BELONG TO YOU AND ME.

PRODUCTION NOTES

for

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE?

by
Langston Hughes

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE? is an impressionistic play endeavouring to capture within the space of an hour the entire scope of Negro history from Africa to America. It should move swiftly from one scene to another with waits other than those indicated by the action. It should be presented in a modern manner with no curtains or stage effects other than a lynch rope which hangs at the back, center, throughout the entire performance, and serves as a symbol of Negro oppression. This rope is used actively only in the lynching scene when the YOUNG MAN puts his head into the noose on the words, "All you crackers got me." He takes his head from the noose on the words, "Not I." Symbolic of the eternal resurrection of hope of an oppressed people.

This play may be produced on any sort of stage or platform, with or
without wings or exits. In cases where the stage or platform has no back-
stage exits, the entire cast may be seated on the front rows of the
auditorium just before the performance, and may make their entrance into
the scene from there, exiting back into the audience as well. What ever
form of staging is used, audience-space should still be employed for much
of the action of the play, since the idea behind this type of production
is to cause the audience to feel that they, as well as the actors, are
participating in the drama—and not simply sitting inactive by looking
at a show. For instance, the YOUNG MAN should begin the play by entering
without any previous signal, with all the house lights on, down the center
aisle of the auditorium, delivering his first speech from the floor in
front of the stage, very simply, as though he were making an announcement.
He then steps upon the stage for the beginning of the play—the poem,
"I am a Negro."

The SLAVES, driven by the OVERSEER, may also enter directly from the audience, either from the seats in the front row, or down one of the aisles, moaning and crying as they run.... The bidding of those for the SLAVES should come from BIDDERS scattered throughout the audience.... The VOICE speaking the lines, "Cook them white folks' dinner," etc., should also be in the audience, with a megaphone if the auditorium is a large one.... The CHORUS OF SINGERS should occupy a front section of the audience and sing directly from their seats without rising.... The NEWSBOYS should shout their papers up and down the aisles.... When the YOUNG MAN exits after his scene with the MULATTO GIRL, he should exit down the steps from the stage and up the center aisle to the back of the auditorium. There he should pick up his tramp's pack—bandana handkerchief containing his belongings tied on a stick—and make his entrance again, singing the Blues as he comes slowly down the aisle, with the CHORUS humming as an undercurrent to his song.... THE GIRL IN RED may also make her entrance down the center aisle, pausing at the front to powder her nose, perhaps, before walking proudly across the stage as the YOUNG MAN'S eyes follow her.... The Harlem Riots may use the front of the auditorium as well as the stage on the opposite side. Then into a huddle as though beating someone. OLD WOMAN faints at the edge of the crowd.

THE GIRL RUSHES to revive her. Members of the CHOIR, the VOICES, and the BIDDERS should be provided with ad lib lines to shout during the riot, and several should have police whistles to blow, thus contributing to the general excitement.... THE MAN IN THE AUDIENCE should speak from the eighth or tenth row.... It is thoroughly permissible for the audience to sing the songs along with the cast, if they spontaneously wish to do so, or to come up and join hands with the cast during the song at the end of the play.

**CASTING NOTES:** In the casting of this play, an attempt should be made to choose actors representing an appearance in complete accord with a cross section of all the types to be found in any Negro community, ranging from the very dark in complexion to the very light. The YOUNG MAN should be a strong, husky, brownskin fellow, not over the age of 25 in appearance, possessing a wholesome, likable personality and a deep manly voice. Since the entire play revolves around him, he must typify the finest type of hard-working youth of the Negro race, not highly educated, but seeking always the path toward education, light and freedom.... THE OVERSEER may be played by an actor of light complexion who can make up easily as a white man.... The OLD WOMAN, who may be listed on the program as SOJOURNER TRUTH, should in costuming resemble as much as possible, especially in her first scene, photographs of SOJOURNER TRUTH.... The NEWSBOYS should be between 14 and 16 years of age—if they are too young, they amuse the audience and cause laughter at a serious point in the play.... The blues sequence may be cast as an entire unit in itself, with singing-actors who need take no part in the rest of the play, except to come in as part of the riot crowd, remaining on the stage for the finale, when the entire cast comes forward in the final song.

**MUSIC:** All of the songs in this production should be sung with the richness, fervor and rhythm so characteristic of Negro music at its best. In no case should polished arrangements of the spirituals be used, but they should have the natural, simple, mellifluous and rhythmic quality to be heard in the singing of any humble NEGRO churc. **GO DOWN, MOSES, IN THAT GREAT GETTIN' UP MORNING,** and **JOHN BROWN'S BODY,** especially should be sung with spirit, gusto, and very stirringly. All of the spirituals may be sung by the entire chorus, except in cases where an exceptional singing-actor is able to carry his part in the song alone. The blues sequence should be accompanied by an expert, old-time, stomp-down blues-piano player who should continue the same rhythm throughout the entire sequence, playing softly but shrewdly and steadily through the spoken portions. The action of the blues sequence should be in time to the music, the characters walking and moving in tempo.... The spirituals, **SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE A MOTHERLESS CHILD,** may be used as background music on the piano for the MOTHER'S long poem concerning her trials and tribulations, going into the strong chords of **GO DOWN, MOSES** at the end.

**COSTUMES:** The AFRICAN BOY should wear only a bright loin cloth, the AFRICAN GIRL a sarong of a darker flowered material with ivory or wooden bracelets, and perhaps a barbaric necklace. The OVERSEER in his early scenes wears a Simon Legree coat, a black string tie, and a wide Panama hat;

A NOTE ON THIS PLAY:

"DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE?" was first produced by the Harlem Suitcase Theatre where it was performed 135 times in 1937-1938, the record for a Harlem run of any play. The play was published in "The One-Act Play Magazine," October, 1938. Since that time it has been performed by college and little theatre groups in Los Angeles, Chicago, Pittsburgh, New Orleans, at Wilberforce and Talladega colleges, at Howard University in Washington, D.C., and elsewhere. Without scenery, the play may be done in "theatre-in-the-round" or on a regular stage. The OVERSEER, as a symbol of oppression and prejudice, plays many parts -- with slight changes of costume. There should be no waits between episodes, no breaks, one scene walking into the other, perhaps with a change of light, as a continuous panorama of the emotional history of the Negro from Africa to the present.

Langston Hughes

-3-

YOUNG MAN

I guess I was like that boy a long time ago, when we lived
in Africa, and the sun was our friend. I guess I was crazy
about that girl that I met at night in the moonlight under
the palm trees.

(Roll of drums, like thunder!
THE BOY and GIRL run away, right.
THE YOUNG MAN speaks to the
audience)

I was Africa then
But the white men came.
I was in my own land, then.
But the white men came.
They drove me out of the forest
They took me away from the jungles
I lost my trees.
I lost my silver moons.
They've caged me now
In the circus of civilization.
Now I'm in a cage
In their circus of civilization.

In 1619 the first slaves came to Jamestown, brought in
chains in sailing vessels to America.

(Enter right FOUR SLAVES: BOY,
GIRL, OLD MAN and WIFE chained
by the wrists together. THEY
walk in a straight line---moan-
ing musically across the stage.
THE YOUNG MAN joins them. THEY
are followed by an OVERSEER with
a whip in hand. ALL exit left
except THE GIRL and OVERSEER.
THE GIRL mounts the slave-block,
wild-eyed and frightened)

OVERSEER

Get along now! Get on! Step along there!

(Approaching auction block)

Folks, look here what I got! A nice healthy black gal,
folks! Wild! Ain't trained, but a little of this will
break her in.

(Holds up his whip)

(Feels her legs)

-4-

OVERSEER (cont'd)

(To the Girl)

Open your mouth, gal!

(Punches her with whipstock)

Open your mouth.

(GIRL opens her mouth)

See! Healthy!

(With a leer)

VOICE

One hundred dollars.

OVERSEER

VOICE

One hundred fifty.

OVERSEER

VOICE

Two hundred!

OVERSEER

That's more like it!

Two hundred!

Two...

VOICE

Two hundred ten.

VOICE

Two hundred twenty.

VOICE

Two hundred fifty.

OVERSEER

Two hundred fifty!

Two hundred fifty...

VOICE

Three hundred! Do I hear another? What? Three hundred

dollars' worth of black gal! Going! Going! Gone!

(Strikes floor with whip. A loud scream from THE GIRL)

-7-

OVERSEER

Shut up, you dog!

(As THE OLD MAN falls before the
whip, THE GIRL takes up the song)

GIRL

GO DOWN, MOSES,
WAY DOWN IN EGYPT LAND,
AND TELL OLE PHARAOH....

CHORUS

TO LET MY PEOPLE GO!

(In wild confusion, OVERSEER
rushes to THE GIRL and strikes
her)

OVERSEER

Shut up, you damned dogs! Shut up!

(But then THE YOUNG MAN rises
and takes up the song)

YOUNG MAN

GO DOWN, MOSES,
WAY DOWN IN EGYPT LAND,
AND TELL OLE PHARAOH
TO LET MY PEOPLE GO.

CHORUS

(A great wave of revolt rises
disguised as a song. THE OVER-
SEER is powerless to resist it.
He calls for troops, for arms.
He pulls a gun)

OVERSEER

Send soldiers! Get out the militia! Shoot these dogs!

(Shots are heard. THE OLD MAN
falls prone. THE GIRL falls.
And an OLD WOMAN enters right
and kneels over the dead)

(As OVERSEER shoots, backing
away)

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

(He exits left as THE YOUNG MAN
comes forward toward the audience)

-9-

OLD WOMAN

VOICES

Douglass! Douglass! Frederick Douglass! William Lloyd
Garrison! Emerson! . . . Whittier! . . . . Lowell . . .
Douglass! John Brown! Lincoln! John Brown! Abraham
Lincoln!

(Roll of drums. Bugle calls.
A flag rises)

OLD WOMAN

The Civil War! And freedom!

YOUNG MAN

(Takes flag)

White soldiers and black soldiers fighting for our freedom.

OLD MAN

(Rising)

Slaves rising from the dead for freedom.

GIRL

(Rising)

Women lifting up their heads for freedom.

GLORY! GLORY! HALLELUJAH!
GLORY! GLORY! HALLELUJAH!
GLORY! GLORY! HALLELUJAH!

Everybody sing!

JOHN BROWN'S BODY

LIES A-MOULDERING IN HIS GRAVE...

(Repeat chorus. As THEY sing,
ALL exit right. Enter THE MAN
and THE WOMAN in old clothes,
left, cross right. They begin
to hoe a field)

WOMAN

John, this ain't no freedom.

MAN

Free, to work and get no pay. Lucy, how come we's--

Just a herd of Negroes
Driven to the field,
Plowing, planting, hoeing
To make the cotton yield.

-10-

MAN (cont'd)

When the cotton's picked
And the work is done
Boss man takes the money
And we get none.
Leaves us hungry, ragged
As we were before.
Year by year goes by
And we are nothing more
Than a herd of Negroes
Driven to the field---
Plowing life away
To make the cotton yield.

WOMAN

Yes, honey, all you say is true, 'cause---

There stand the white man,
Boss of the fields---
Lord of the land
And all that it yields.
And here bend the black folks,
Hands to the soil---
Bosses of nothing,
Not even our toil.

MAN

(Enter OVERSEER bringing chair)

WOMAN

The white folks won't pay us nothing, that's the trouble.
Besides the Jim Crow cars, and the Jim Crow schools, and
the lynchings---when you work, they don't pay you nothing.

MAN

WOMAN

Yes, that's what happened to Wilbur. He went to ask the
man for his money---and they killed him.

(On the left, THE OVERSEER sits
in a chair tilted back, smoking
a big cigar. Enter THE YOUNG
MAN, right, crosses left)

YOUNG MAN

-11-

OVERSEER

YOUNG MAN

OVERSEER

YOUNG MAN

(Trying to restrain himself)

OVERSEER

Your contract? Hell! What about my bills? What about
the commissary store? What about that sow belly and corn
meal I been advancing you all the year for you and your
lazy old woman, and them kids of yours that you think's
too good to work in the cotton fields? Trying to send
pickaninnies to school! Huh! You're an uppity black boy,
anyhow. Talkin' 'bout what I owe you! Why, even after
nine bales was sold you owed me more'n a hundred dollars...
Why, you ungrateful scoundrel! Get on back there in that
field and start plowin' for next year's crop!

YOUNG MAN

OVERSEER

YOUNG MAN

OVERSEER

(Rising)

Are you trying to say I don't pay my field hands? Get out
o' here. You impudent black cuss, you! Get out o' here!

YOUNG MAN

No, sir, Mr. Mallory, not without my money.

OVERSEER

You impudent dog! Get out o' here before I beat the hell
out o' you!

YOUNG MAN

No!

-12-

(THE OVERSEER walks up to THE YOUNG MAN and hits him in the mouth. THE YOUNG MAN stands as if in a daze. Then he suddenly deals THE OVERSEER a blow that sends him reeling unconscious to the floor. There is a crash of cymbals. Whistles. The far-off cry of a MOB and dogs. THE MOTHER and FATHER are terror-stricken. THE YOUNG MAN looks for a place to hide. There is no hiding place)

MAN

Hurry, son, hurry! They gonna kill you!

WOMAN

Run, Wilbur! Oh, honey, run! Go the swamp way, so's the dogs can't smell no tracks! Run!

MAN

Hurry! Hurry! Hurry, son, hurry!

YOUNG MAN

There ain't no place to run!

(Darts wildly about)

(He approaches the lynch rope that dangles from the sky and puts his head into the noose, lynched)

I'm dead!

(His body slumps, dead. NEWS-BOYS enter hawking papers)

NEWSBOYS

(THE PARENTS stand beside the hanging youth as NEWSBOYS exit)

WOMAN

My boy is dead.

MAN

Damn the ones what kilt him! Damn their souls to hell!

-13-

WOMAN

John, my boy is dead, I'm all alone -- and my boy is dead!

(Begins to sing:)

I COULDN'T HEAR NOBODY PRAY.
OH, LAWDY! COULDN'T HEAR NOBODY PRAY.
WAY DOWN YONDER BY MYSELF,
I COULDN'T HEAR NOBODY PRAY!

(Enter young MULATTO GIRL, who
sits down beside hanging body,
center)

MULATTO GIRL

Way down South in Dixie,
Break the heart of me!
They hung my dark young lover
To a crossroads tree.
Way down South in Dixie,
Bruised body high in air,
I ask the white Lord Jesus
What was the use of prayer.
Way down South in Dixie,
Break the heart of me.
Love is a naked shadow
On a gnarled and naked tree.

OVERSEER

(Rising and shouting)

Pull at the rope! O!
Pull it high!
Let the white folks live
And the black man die.
Yes, pull it then,
With a bloody cry,
Let the black boy swing---

(THE MAN interrupts defiantly)

MAN

But the white folks die.

OVERSEER

The white folks die?
What do you mean---
The white folks die?

MAN

That black boy's
Still body says:

-15-

wrongest thing of all is poverty. Being poor. You're the
girl I loved once----now look at you! All painted and
powdered and wrong. But I know what happened. I don't
blame you for it. You was young and beautiful once, and
golden like the sunshine that warmed your body. But
because you was colored, honey, this town had no place for
you, nothing for you to do.

MULATTO GIRL

So one day, sitting on old Mrs. Latham's back porch polishing the silver, working for five dollars a week, I asked myself two questions. They ran something like this: What can a colored girl do on the money from a white woman's kitchen?

VOICE

Five dollars a week.

MULATTO GIRL

VOICE

Five dollars a week.

YOUNG MAN

Now the streets down by the river are your streets. And
the sinister shuttered houses of the bottoms hold a yellow
girl seeking an answer to her questions.

VOICE

Five dollars a week.

MULATTO GIRL

YOUNG MAN

MULATTO GIRL

(Distant laughter)

YOUNG MAN

MULATTO GIRL

Goodbye, Wilbur.

YOUNG MAN

(Without looking back, he walks
left)

-17-

WIFE

I SAY, THE BLUES AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT
THE DOG-GONE HEART'S DISEASE.
WHEN YOU GOT THE BLUES, YOU
SHO' CAN'T FIND NO EASE.

(Sighs)

(She dresses and powders to exit
later from her dreary flat. At
left, undressing in a dark hall
bedroom, THE BOY answers, too)

BOY

I got the blues. Guess I'll go to bed. Maybe I can sleep
'em off.

YOUNG MAN

The blues is songs folks make up when their hearts hurt.
That's what the blues is. Sad funny songs. Too sad to
be funny, and too funny to be sad.

(Exit WOMAN)

Colored folks made up the blues! Listen!

(Loudly a piano beats out blues)

BOY

I GOT THE WEARY BLUES
AND I CAN'T BE SATISFIED.
GOT THE WEARY BLUES
AND CAN'T BE SATISFIED-----
I AIN'T HAPPY NO MO'
AND I WISH THAT I HAD DIED.

(But THE PIANO PLAYER keeps on
playing softly in the night)

YOUNG MAN

You see, that's the blues.

(At right a HUSBAND comes home
from work and throws his hat and
dinner pail on the table)

Sometimes there's the family blues. God-dog it!

-20-

## HUSBAND

It's the next day now.

(He begins to sing)

I WAS SO SICK LAST NIGHT I
DIDN'T HARDLY KNOW MY MIND.
SO SICK LAST NIGHT I
DIDN'T KNOW MY MIND.
I DRUNK SOME BAD BAD LICKER,
ALMOST MADE ME BLIND.
HAD A DREAM LAST NIGHT I
THOUGHT I WAS IN HELL.
I DREAMT LAST NIGHT I
THOUGHT I WAS IN HELL.
WOKE UP AND LOOKED AROUND ME---
BABE, YOUR MOUTH WAS OPEN LIKE A WELL.
I SAID, BABY, BABY,
PLEASE DON'T SNORE SO LOUD.
BABY! PLEASE DON'T SNORE SO LOUD.
YOU JUS' A LITTLE BIT O' WOMAN BUT YOU
SOUND LIKE A GREAT BIG CROWD.

## WIFE

NOW LISTEN HERE, MR. JACKSON,
DON'T SAY THAT TO ME.
LISTEN, MR. JACKSON,
DON'T SAY THAT TO ME,
CAUSE IF YOU DO,
WE IS BOUND TO DISAGREE.

## HUSBAND

## WIFE

Yes, I'm gonna leave you. You all I got, too, but I sure
can get along without you. So goodbye!

(Off stage full chorus)

## ALL

BLUES, BLUES, BLUES!
BLUES, BLUES...BLUES, BLUES, BLUES!
BLUES IS WHAT'S THE MATTER
WHEN YOU LOSES ALL YOU GOT TO LOSE.

(Exit HUSBAND, right, WIFE, left)

## YOUNG MAN

Colored folks made the blues! Now everybody sings 'em.
We made 'em out of being poor and lonely. And homes
busted up, and desperate and broke. But me, I haven't got
any blues! I got a little job, not much.

(Leans against wall)

-21-

YOUNG MAN (cont'd)

Got a little time to stand on the corner at night and
watch the girls go by! Boy, these Harlem girls've sure
got it! Looky yonder!

(Enter a very beautiful BROWN
GIRL in a red dress. Pauses,
crosses)

VOICE

YOUNG MAN

VOICE

Blow trumpets, Jesus!

YOUNG MAN

VOICE

Sweet silver trumpets, Jesus!

(THE GIRL exits left and YOUNG MAN takes off coat and starts polishing a brass spittoon. As he works he talks to himself)

YOUNG MAN

Gee, if I just had a little money, I think I'd get married.
But I kinder hate to start out with nothing. Suppose we
had a kid? Well, I'd want my kid to have a decent break,
that's what. I had to start to work soon as I was big
enough. My folks never did get ahead. There ain't many
decent jobs a colored boy can get nohow. Here I am polishing
spittoons in a hotel. But I've travelled around plenty,
been all over America pretty near. And most towns, there
just ain't nothin' much for a colored boy to do. Lots of
factories won't even hire colored men. Lots of places I
can't join unions. Anyhow, this old spittoon looks right
good.

(Holds up shining spittoon proudly)

When a thing's clean, it always looks better, no matter
what. But, gee! Have I always got to do the cleaning?
Always the dirty work? Me! Always?

-24-

YOUNG MAN

(Pointing to the Old Man)
That was my grandfather.

(On the left THE WOMAN in a
maid's apron is working)

WOMAN

All day, subdued, polite---
Thoughtful to the faces that are white.

OLD MAN

YOUNG MAN

OLD MAN

Oh, songs that do not care!

WOMAN

YOUNG MAN

WOMAN

Oh, dreams! O, songs!

OLD MAN

A little rest at night.

WOMAN

(Takes off apron, puts on her
coat and hat, starts for home,
crossing right toward her boy)

OVERSEER

OLD MAN

-25-

OVERSEER

(OLD MAN bends over his task.
THE WOMAN reaches home)

WOMAN

Good evening, son!

YOUNG MAN

Mom, I lost my job!

WOMAN

You lost your job?

YOUNG MAN

WOMAN

YOUNG MAN

I don't know, Mom. Things is so tight, I done lost heart!
Look how long I been a man now, and ain't never had a job
that amounted to nothing. I've been all over, and every-
where just the same. The dirty work for colored folks,
the cheap work, underpaid work! I'm tired, Mom. Soon as
I come here to be with you a while and we get this little
flat, first thing I do is lose my job. And the landlord's
just sent us a notice about raising the rent, too. Mom,
I'm about ready to give up. I swear I am!

WOMAN

Son, you ain't gonna give up no such a thing. Listen!
You gonna keep right on just like I been keeping on. Did
you ever stop to think about it, honey, about your mother,
and all the rest of us colored women---what we been up
against all through history, son, from slavery time through
Reconstruction to the First World War and on. Sit down
and lemme tell you, for

(Piano music)

I'm standing here today
Like a living story of that long dark way
That I had to climb, that I had to know
In order that our race might live and grow.
Look at my face, boy, dark as the night,
Yet shining like the sun with hope and light
I'm the child they stole from the sand
Three hundred years ago in Africa's land.
I'm the dark girl who crossed the wide sea

-26-

## WOMAN (cont'd)

Carrying in my body the seed of the Free.
I'm the woman who worked in the field,
Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield.
I'm the one who labored as a slave,
Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave---
Children sold away from me, husband sold, too.
No safety, no love, no respect was I due.
Three hundred years in the deepest South,
But love put a prayer and a song in my mouth.
Now through my children, we're reaching the goal.
I couldn't read then. I couldn't write.
I had nothing back there in the night.
Sometimes the valley was filled with tears,
But I kept trudging on through the lonely years.
Sometimes the road was hot with sun,
But I had to keep on till my work was done.
I had to keep on! No stopping for me---
I was the seed of the coming Free.
I nourished our dream that nothing could smother
Deep in my breast---the Negro mother.
I had only hope then, but now through you,
Dark child of today, my dreams must come true.
All you dark children in the world out there,
Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair.
Remember my years heavy with sorrow---
And make of those years a torch for tomorrow,
Make of my past a road to the light.
Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night.
Lift high my banner out of the dust.
Stand like free men supporting my trust.
Believe in the right, let none push you back.
Remember the whip and the slaver's track.
Remember how the strong in struggle and strife
Still bar you the way, and deny you life---
But march ever forward, breaking down bars.
Look ever upward at the sun and the stars.
Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers
Impel you forever up the great stairs---
For I will be with you till no evil brother
Dares keep down the children of the Negro mother.

## OVERSEER

(Now he is a landlord, coming to
knock at their door, right)

Madam, did you get my notice about raising your rent ten
dollars a month more?

## WOMAN

Yes, sir, I got the notice, but I am tired of that. I
ain't gonna pay no more. We're paying enough.

-27-

OVERSEER

You'll pay it or move, and no smart talk about it neither.

YOUNG MAN

Say, listen here! Who're you to speak to my mother like
that?

OVERSEER

I'm the landlord. If you don't like it, get out of my
place.

YOUNG MAN

Lemme see you get instead!

OVERSEER

What? This is my house!

YOUNG MAN

Yes, but you don't live in it! We live here! This is
Harlem!

(He towers above the Landlord.
THE OVERSEER backs away and puts
on a waiter's apron. WOMAN
begins to peel potatoes. YOUNG
MAN to study. At left, BOY
holding menu calls:)

BOY

Say, Waiter! Where is that waiter?... Hey, Waiter! Give
me an order of spaghetti and a bottle of soda, please.

OVERSEER

Sorry! We don't serve colored here.

BOY

What? You mean in New York City you don't serve colored?

OVERSEER

Sure, this is a white place.

BOY

(Rising)

And you don't serve colored people?

OVERSEER

You heard me, big boy.

BOY

I might of heard you, but this is Harlem speaking now.
Get me that spaghetti. I'm tired of this stuff, talking
about you don't serve colored people! Ain't I an American?

-28-

(OVERSEER backs away. OLD WOMAN enters left as a PICKET carrying a sign reading:

DON'T BUY HERE
THIS STORE DOES NOT
EMPLOY NEGRO CLERKS

Slowly SHE walks back and forth
as OVERSEER rushes out in white
apron of a butcher)

OVERSEER

What you doing in front of my store? What I done to you?
What for you walking up and down with that sign, obstruct-
ing my business? Long as you trade with me, what is this?

OLD WOMAN

OVERSEER

More'n ten years, Mrs. Brown.

OLD WOMAN

And all that time, I ain't never seen a colored clerk in
this store, not one. My boy growed up and went through
high school, and to college, and got more education than
you ever had, but when one of your clerks died, and my
boy came here to ask you for a job, you said: "No, you
might give him a little janitor's job, but you got to have
a white clerk." That's why I'm picketing out here, Mr.
Schultz. Harlem is tired! No work! No money! I tell
you, Harlem is tired!

(OLD WOMAN brandishes her sign
and BUTCHER flees, to take off
his apron, put on a coat and a
pair of pince-nez with flowing
black ribbon. He is editor of a
daily paper and carries a handful
of proofs. YOUNG MAN enters:)

YOUNG MAN

You're the editor of the DAILY SCRIBE?

OVERSEER

I am.

YOUNG MAN

-30-

(WIFE sweeps. OVERSEER removes glasses, puts on dark hat, carries a briefcase, now an insurance man. Goes to Wife's door and knocks)

WIFE (cont'd)

Yes?

OVERSEER

(Cockily)

WIFE

You want me to pay you?

OVERSEER

WIFE

OVERSEER

I am.

WIFE

OVERSEER

Not so far as I know. Why?

WIFE

You won't give colored people certain kinds of policies you carries neither, will you?

OVERSEER

WIFE

But my money's _good_ money, ain't it?

OVERSEER

Of course it is.

WIFE

OVERSEER

Why, yes. Of course I do.

WIFE

Well, you ain't gonna get it! A company that won't hire

-32-

MULATTO GIRL

Chile, you better wrap up good. It's kinder chilly out-
side.

GIRL

LAUNDRY WORKER

GIRL

You told that right.

MULATTO GIRL

OVERSEER

Here, Dorothy Mae! Here's your wages! Now, don't get
drunk tonight.... Here, Miss Lizzie, something for your
preacher tomorrow. Behave yourself in church! Hear?

(As a good-looking LAUNDRY WORKER approaches for her wages)

Say, Toots, uh-er, listen....

LAUNDRY WORKER

Toots, who?

OVERSEER

Why, er-er....

LAUNDRY WORKER

Is this twenty dollars all you're giving me for a whole
week's work in your laundry?

OVERSEER

Piece work, that's all you've earned, girlie. But now--
er--

LAUNDRY WORKER

OVERSEER

Well, twenty dollars is your salary.

LAUNDRY WORKER

["-34-", "YOUNG MAN", "Jim Crow landlord!", "WOMAN", "Won't rent us a house downtown!", "OLD MAN", "Starving my children!", "LAUNDRY WORKER", "Get out of Harlem!", "WIFE", "Yes, get out of Harlem!", "OVERSEER", "Help! Help! Help! What have I done? Help me, police!\nPolice!", "(Blows police whistle, frantically seeking escape)", "Help!...Help!...Help!...Help!... Police!", "(Fading into darkness, NEWSBOYS enter from all directions circulating through audience crying:)", "NEWSBOYS", "Riot in Harlem! Negroes running riot! Riot! Read all about it! Riot! Riot! Riot! 1935, March 19th, riot in Harlem! Riot in Harlem! Read all about it! Harlem is tired! Harlem's tired!", "(As sirens die down THE MOTHER speaks quietly:)", "WOMAN", "Harlem is so tired.", "BOY", "Yes, Harlem's tired.", "LAUNDRY WORKER", "Harlem is tired!", "YOUNG MAN", "You understand, folks? Harlem's tired.", "(He sits down on steps at front of platform with the PEOPLE OF HARLEM massed behind him as a VOICE FROM THE AUDIENCE cries:)", {""]

-35-

MAN IN AUDIENCE

But say?

YOUNG MAN

Yes?

MAN IN AUDIENCE

YOUNG MAN

MAN IN AUDIENCE

Then what must we do?

YOUNG MAN

I don't know. I honest to God don't know. This was 1935, this riot. Then a few years later World War II began---- another war for democracy.

HUSBAND

WOMAN

My son was killed at Anzio.

YOUNG MAN

But in 1943 there was another Harlem riot. We had a Jim Crow army, a Jim Crow blood bank, a Jim Crow Harlem right through the war. But that second riot didn't solve anything either. You're right, riots don't solve anything. They're like wars. When all the fighting's over, people still have to live and get along together. Everybody's got to learn to live and get along together.

(Disguised as a Dixiecrat Senator in a wide-brimmed hat and flowing black tie, with a Southern accent, THE OVERSEER enters pointing an angry finger at the Young Man from the audience)

OVERSEER

You want to live with white folks, that's your trouble, boy! You're a nigra that wants social equality.

(Very quietly THE YOUNG MAN answers)

YOUNG MAN

I want every kind of equality there is, Mister! Human equality!

-36-

OVERSEER

You're a Red, that's what you are! A Red!

YOUNG MAN

Is it Red to want to live in a clean house on a decent street where the garbage trucks come by every day, not just when they feel like it? Is it Red to want a chance to work on any job like other Americans? Is it Red to want to vote in South Carolina? Or go to college in Mississippi? Or be safe from bombs in Georgia? Or get a fair trial? Or ride on a bus without Jim Crow? Or rent a house anyplace?

OVERSEER

YOUNG MAN

OVERSEER

You're Red! Standing up there making speeches! Subversive--playing in plays like this one! A traitor---I'm white and you're talking back to me!

YOUNG MAN

You are no more than I am.

(Shaking with anger THE OVERSEER erupts)

OVERSEER

Why, you b-b-b-black son-of-a-so-and-so! I'm -- I'm gonna call the Department of Justice.

(Still quietly THE YOUNG MAN answers)

YOUNG MAN

That's what we want, sir--justice. But not your kind. Not the kind Hitler liked--or they like in South Africa. No, Mister, not that kind! You know I fought in Korea. I had a bullet through my shoulder. I've got a stake in democracy, too. We all have. When you see Harlem's fists doubled up, it's because you have kicked democracy around. When you see our faces Frowning, it's because you've squeezed the blood out of my heart. My blood is red. My heart beats the same as yours. I dream, too--but I hope my dreams aren't the same.

(The lights dim and only THE YOUNG MAN is visible in the spotlight)

-37-

YOUNG MAN (cont'd)

Once America had a very great dream. I read about it in
school. The officers told us about it in the army. The
radio talks about it all the time now. I guess I got
caught up in the tail-end of that dream. I couldn't help
it. I'm American, too. Even slaves dreamed about liberty
and freedom before the Civil War--and Negroes and white
folks fought for it--Nat Turner, Garrison, Douglass, John
Brown, Sojourner Truth, Abraham Lincoln, the Union Armies.
But I guess you were on the Rebel side, Overseer. I guess
you wore a Klan robe during Reconstruction days. I guess
you belonged to the Bund in Jersey during World War II.
I guess you hated Roosevelt. I guess now you'd bar Negroes
out of the John Birch Society. I guess you like to fili-
buster in Congress. I guess now your name is Senator...

OVERSEER

Never mind what my name is now! You're a black Red! I'd
like to build a concentration camp for you -- and all the
rest of your Negra leaders.

YOUNG MAN

I'm not a leader, Mister.

OVERSEER

You might be, so I'll put you in a concentration camp
anyhow. All your Negra leaders in Harlem--

YOUNG MAN

There's not many leaders left in Harlem. They've all
moved to the suburbs like white folks. There's only us
left, Mister.

(From the CROWD in the darkness
voices are heard)

HUSBAND

LAUNDRY WORKER

Get going! Move!

HUSBAND

It's your time to go.

VARIOUS VOICES

Yes, move! Move! Move!

OVERSEER

You wouldn't dare touch me!

CROWD

Oh, no?....Aw-w-ww-ww-w--.....

-38-

(OVERSEER, frightened, flees
through the audience as the
hissing of the CROWD mounts.
YOUNG MAN speaks quietly)

YOUNG MAN

But that's not the answer either, folks, running him away.
In due time, we'll vote senators like him out of office,
anyhow. But all white people are not like that man. If
they were, America wouldn't mean anything any more. He's
not a man, anyhow, he's an idea--an ugly, evil, worn-out
idea still alive in the world. But he's on the run--and
all his ugly old ideas are on the run, too--all over the
world--from Harlem to Dixie to South Africa. College
kids picketing for a cup of coffee and a hamburger in the
South--and winning in a lot of places. Freedom Riders
riding for an end to Jim Crow on busses, trains, in sta-
tions. Every time they ride my heart rides with them.
Seven hundred Negroes locked up in Albany, Georgia, for
trying to break down segregation, for trying to vote.
Meredith facing a mob at the University of Mississippi--
but registering. But I'm not there. I'm here. What can
I do? Give money? Join the NAACP, join CORE? Join the
Urban League? Sure! But what else can I do? Maybe you
can tell me. Sometimes I don't know. Sometimes I get
lost.....

(HIS MOTHER appears speaking over
his shoulder)

MOTHER

Frederick Douglass got lost sometimes, too, son, back in
slavery time. And Harriet Tubman. And I reckon John
Brown. But they kept going on! Kept on--cleaning out
underbrush till they found the road. Son, I been scared
and battered.

My hopes the wind done scattered.
Snow has friz me, sun has baked me.
Looks like between 'em
They done tried to make me
Stop laughin', stop lovin', stop livin'--
But I don't care! I'm still here!

And I'm gonna stay here, too. Nobody's running. The
N.A.A.C.P. is not running, CORE is not running, the
students are not running. Martin Luther King may be pray-
ing, but he's not running. The Black Muslims are not run-
ning. Nobody's running!

Son, that man you was just talking to, that old Southern
Senator, son-of-a-poor-mother--he's just underbrush to
clear out of the road....so the dream can march. Today,

-39-

you've got an education. You've got strength. You've got
will. You've got hope. You've got your dream, ain't you?
You got your dream.

YOUNG MAN

Sure, Mom, I got my dream. I got it right here--inside.

MOTHER

Freedom is everybody's dream, son--excusing that son-of-a-
poor-mother. It's everybody's dream all over the world.
In slavery time it was Sojourner Truth's dream--and she
sang it. Listen!

(Clear and strong out of the past
a WOMAN's voice sings and, like
the dawn, the lights gradually
come up stronger and stronger,
iluminating the faces of Harlem)

VOICES

OH, FREEDOM! OH, FREEDOM!
OH, FREEDOM OVER ME!

(The voices of the OTHER WOMEN
join in and THE YOUNG MAN and
HIS MOTHER speak over the song)

YOUNG MAN

It's going to come true, Mom, my dream!

WOMAN

Of course, it's going to come true, son.

(Suddenly the MEN's voices take
up song)

MEN

BEFORE I'D BE A SLAVE....(etc.)

YOUNG MAN

I got to be free! And not "with all deliberate speed,"
either -- America is not a snail. Free! Free! Right
here in this world, now--on this earth, in America, free!
Folks--

(He comes toward audience singing)

I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG,
BUT THE WORDS I CANNOT FIND.
I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG
I CAN HEAR IT IN MY MIND.
I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG
OF A WORLD THAT'S FINE AND FREE--
FOR THE NEW WORLD OF TOMORROW
MUST BELONG TO YOU AND ME!

-40-

(HIS MOTHER joins him in singing)

WOMAN
I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG,
YES, A SONG OF BLACK AND WHITE.
I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG,

BOTH
EVERYBODY TREATED RIGHT.

YOUNG MAN
I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG
OF A WORLD OF LIBERTY--

BOTH
FOR THE NEW WORLD OF TOMORROW
WILL BELONG TO YOU AND ME.

WOMEN
OH, FREEDOM.....

YOUNG MAN
Don't you want to be free?

WOMEN
OH, FREEDOM.....

MEN
A WORLD THAT'S FINE AND FREE!

WOMEN
OH, FREEDOM!

MEN
FREEDOM OVER ME!

ENSEMBLE
BEFORE I'D BE A SLAVE
I'D BE BURIED IN MY GRAVE
AND GO HOME TO MY LORD
AND BE FREE.

(ENTIER CAST comes forward to
line up across the platform,
backed by all the members of the
group, club, or organization
presenting this play)

I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG,
YES, A SONG OF BLACK AND WHITE.
I'D LIKE TO SING A NEW SONG,
EVERYBODY TREATED RIGHT!

-45-

by
Langston Hughes

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE? is an impressionistic play endeavouring to capture within the space of an hour the entire scope of Negro history from Africa to America. It should move swiftly from one scene to another with no waits others than those indicated by the action. It should be presented in a modern manner with no curtains or stage effects other than a lynch rope which hangs at the back, center, throughout the entire performance, and serves as a symbol of Negro oppression. This rope is used actively only in the lynching scene when the YOUNG MAN puts his head into the noose on the words, "All you crackers got me." He takes his head from the noose on the words, "Not I." Symbolic of the eternal resurrection of hope of an oppressed people.

This play may be produced on any sort of stage or platform, with or without wings or exits. In cases where the stage or platform has no back-stage exits, the entire cast may be seated on the front rows of the auditorium just before the performance, and may make their entrance into the scene from there, exiting back into the audience as well. Whatever form of staging is used, audience-space should still be employed for much of the action of the play, since the idea behind this type of production is to cause the audience to feel that they, as well as the actors, are participating in the drama—and not simply sitting inactive by looking at a show. For instance, the YOUNG MAN should begin the play by entering without any previous signal, with all the house lights on, down the center aisle of the auditorium, delivering his first speech from the floor in front of the stage, very simply, as though he were making an announcement. He then steps upon the stage for the beginning of the play—the poem, "I am a Negro."

-46-

OF SINGERS should occupy a front section of the audience and sing directly from their seats without rising.... The NEWSBOYS should shout their papers up and down the aisles.... When the YOUNG MAN exits after his scene with the MULATTO GIRL, he should exit down the steps from the stage and up the center aisle to the back of the auditorium. There he should pick up his tramp's pack----bandana handkerchief containing his belongings tied on a stick----and make his entrance again, singing the Blues as he comes slowly down the aisle, with the CHORUS humming as an undercurrent to his song.... THE GIRL IN RED may also make her entrance down the center aisle, pausing at the front to powder her nose, perhaps, before walking proudly across the stage as the YOUNG MAN's eyes follow her.... The Harlem Riots may use the front of the auditorium as well as the stage on the opposite side. Then into a huddle as though beating someone. OLD WOMAN faints at the edge of the crowd. THE GIRL rushes to revive her. Members of the CHOIR, the VOICES, and the BIDDERS should be provided with ad lib lines to shout during the riot, and several should have police whistles to blow, thus contributing to the general excitement.... THE MAN IN THE AUDIENCE should speak from the eighth or tenth row.... It is thoroughly permissible for the audience to sing the songs along with the cast, if they spontaneously wish to do so, or to come up and join hands with the cast during the song at the end of the play.

**CASTING NOTES:** In the casting of this play, an attempt should be made to choose actors representing an appearance in complete accord with a cross-section of all the types to be found in any Negro community, ranging from the very dark in complexion to the very light. The YOUNG MAN should be a strong, husky, brownskin fellow, not over the age of 25 in appearance, possessing a wholesome, likeable personality and a deep manly voice. Since the entire play revolves around him, he must typify the finest type of hard-working youth of the Negro race, not highly educated, but seeking always the path toward education, light and freedom.... THE OVERSEER may be played by an actor of light complexion who can make up easily as a white man.... The OLD WOMAN, who may be listed on the program as SOJOURNER TRUTH, should in costuming resemble as much as possible, especially in her first scene, photographs of SOJOURNER TRUTH.... The NEWSBOYS should be between 14 and 16 years of age-----if they are too young, they amuse the audience and cause laughter at a serious point in the play.... The blues sequence may be cast as an entire unit in itself, with singing-actors who need take no part in the rest of the play, except to come in as part of the riot crowd, remaining on the stage for the

-47-

**MUSIC:** All of the songs in this production should be sung with the richness, fervor and rhythm so characteristic of Negro music at its best. In no case should polished arrangements of the spirituals be used, but they should have the natural, simple, mellifluous and rhythmic quality to be heard in the singing of any humble NEGRO church. GO DOWN, MOSES, IN THAT GREAT GETTIN' UP MORNING, and JOHN BROWN'S BODY, especially should be sung with spirit, gusto, and very stirringly. All of the spirituals may be sung by the entire chorus, except in cases where an exceptional singing-actor is able to carry his part in the song alone. The blues sequence should be accompanied by an expert, old-time, stomp-down blues-piano player who should continue the same rhythm throughout the entire sequence, playing softly but shrewdly and steadily through the spoken portions. The action of the blues sequence should be in time to the music, the characters walking and moving in tempo.... The spirituals, SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE A MOTHERLESS CHILD, may be used as background music on the piano for the MOTHER's long poem concerning her trials and tribulations, going into the strong chords of GO DOWN, MOSES at the end.

**COSTUMES:** The AFRICAN BOY should wear only a bright loin cloth, the AFRICAN GIRL a sarong of a darker flowered material with ivory or wooden bracelets, and perhaps a barbaric necklace. The OVERSEER in his early scenes wears a Simon Legree coat, a black string tie, and a wide Panama hat; as a plantation master, he may be in his shirt sleeves; for his various other roles, he may change only a coat, a hat, a butcher's apron, etc., as the case demands. The MULATTO GIRL should wear a bright and attractive, but over-gaudy costume, too much rouge, and cheap jewelry. The YOUNG MAN can wear an ordinary dark suit, a blue work shirt and a tie which he removes when he enters for the scene with the PLANTATION MASTER.

**SOUND:** A good loud cymbal is needed. A drum may be used to accompany the more stirring spirituals. Two sound effects records are required, those of the bark-ing dogs for the lynch scene, and army bugle calls to be used for the Civil War. These may be played on any victrola backstage with a loud needle. Police whistles and a siren are needed for the riot scene, and other sound effects such as breaking glass, rattling of tin cans, ambulance and fire bells may be used.

-48-

**LIGHT EFFECTS:** The light effects for the play may be as simple or as elaborate as the acting group can afford. If spotlights are used, the various scenes may be picked out with the spots as the scenes occur, blacking out as the scenes end—but this is not necessary; and if blackouts are used, immediately one scene is blacked out, another should be lighted, so that there is no wait, not even the slightest between scenes—since the success of this play depends upon a rapid moving-picture technique of one scene flowing directly into another. Since, with amateur groups, elaborate lighting usually creates a problem and often proves spotty and distracting when awkwardly handled, very simple lighting effects are urged for this production. If spotlights are available, straw-amber or steel-blue need be the only gelatin slides used to vary the lighting. For the lynching, a complete blackout may be used, with just a small handspot to form a flashlight in the first row, focussed on the face of the dead boy while the NEWSBOYS shout their papers. In case no special lighting is available the entire play may be performed in the ordinary light of any church or hall.

**GROUPS TO BE CONTACTED FOR PROMOTION:** This play should appeal especially to Negro History groups, labor unions, social workers, and liberal and progressive organizations of all types, as well as Negro fraternal groups. It is suggested that the play be performed in a small auditorium, perhaps two performances a week over a period of several weeks, rather than performing the play just once in a large auditorium—since this is the type of play which catches on by word of mouth advertising, so people should be given a chance to hear about it. Also, a small hall packed to the doors is much more encouraging to actors than a large hall partially filled. Then, too, several performances of the same play help greatly in perfecting the acting technique of the group.

**FINALE:** The music of the final song may be secured from Langston Hughes, 20 East 127th Street, New York 35, New York; or from the composer, Sammy Heyward, 2265 Fifth Avenue, New York 37, New York.