Staying Power: Concrete, Not Wood A Multigenre Production by Ypsilanti & Richmond Youth Artists

2019

1 © Red Beard Press, 2019. All rights reserved. ISBN 978-0-9969707-8-5

No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopying form without written permission of the author or Red Beard Press.

This book may be purchased by visiting www.neutral-zone.org/shop-1 or by contacting Literary Arts Program Manager Molly Raynor at [email protected].

PHOTOGRAPHY — Jamie Chiu COVER DESIGN — Mia Shin BOOK DESIGN — Nikka Wolfenbarger GRAPHIC DESIGN — Mia Shin and Zachary Barrett STAFF — Karley Misek, Naima Peterson, Tariq Peterson, Elinam Agbo, Sonya Carter SUPPORT from Literary Arts Program Manager Molly Raynor, and Neutral Zone Literary Arts Program Founder Jeff Kass RED BEARD PRESS FOUNDING STAFF ADVISOR — Karen Smyte

2 Housing corporations and real estate agents refer to their building projects and marketing campaigns through the language of urban homesteading, colonizing, and being on “the new frontier.”

—from interviewer Cassandra Troyan

3 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Artistic Director & Dramaturg: Donté Clark Ypsi Artistic Leaders: Samuel Martin, Sakinah & Zakiyyah Rahman Richmond Artistic Leader: Ciera-Jevae Gordon Historical Dramaturg: Matthew Siegfried Script Support: Maria Theocharakis, Nadia Mota

SPONSORS National Endowment for the Arts University of Michigan’s Helen Zell Writers Program J. Ferrantino Foundation Kass Family Foundation Ann Arbor State Bank Merton and Regina Allen Memorial Fund Michigan Council For Arts & Cultural Affairs Ozone House RYSE Center Riverside Arts Center Defend Affordable Ypsi Ypsilanti Community High School Ypsilanti Library Growing Hope

4 CONTENTS

Opening Remarks // 6

Act I // 10 “The 1st”

Act II // 42 “The 15th”

Act III // 62 “The 30th”

5 6 Opening Remarks for Staying Power: Concrete, Not Wood

Dec 7th, 2019 By Ciera-Jevae Gordon and Donté Clark

Good evening and welcome to “Staying Power: Concrete, Not Wood!” hosted by Neutral Zone in partnership with Ozone House and the RYSE Center.

My name is Ciera-Jevae Gordon, and I have the pleasure of having served as a Staying Power Fellow, Richmond, Ca’s Poet Laureate, and currently serve as the Media, Arts, and Culture Manager at the RYSE Youth Center in Richmond, Ca.

Let us first begin by acknowledging that we are on stolen land of the Anishinabek and Wyandot people, past and present. It is crucial to speak of our Indigenous community in present tense. They are still here, and still fighting amongst us, as we are here fighting with them. We hold holy their culture and language as a guiding factor as we navigate the painful yet joyful livelihoods of Black, Brown, and Indigenous people.

With that said, there is nothing more fitting than the title of this production, “Staying Power: Concrete, Not Wood.” This is not just a performance, but a call to action. Here, we are centering those native to this community, native to this land. Here we are calling on all that call this place home to reflect, listen, and sit in any discomfort you may feel. We like to call on this notion of knowing the difference between feeling unsafe, and feeling uncomfortable. We know because of history and the present, that folks of color have disportpostionally been unsafe in almost all spaces compared to our white and or wealthy counterparts. We invite all into the space, but ask that you join us in centering those closest to the pain, grief,

7 and displacement. Those descendants of Indigeous folx, of African slaves, of asylum seekers. If you feel uncomfortable during the show, I invite you to acknowledge it within yourself, and make time for intentional self inquiry.

To ground us in this show I want to give background of the title of Staying Power and how it inspired this work. Staying Power, a fellowship in Richmond, Ca created in 2017, was an arts, policy, and participatory action research fellowship coordinated by four California organizations that worked to tackle different causes of gentrification within our beloved Richmond, Ca. A notable win was creating a bi-ligual Know Your Rights Mural that educated community members of their rights around housing, eviction, and more.

All of this work inspired young people in Richmond to write a production entitled “Youthtopia: In the Face of Gentrification,” to share their lived experiences with the entire community. They further highlighted the fact that gentrification is not just about housing. It is about belonging. Within our schools, our youth centers, our families and our greater community. They talked about how police brutality is a symptom of gentrification, a format of pushing out and murdering our Black, Brown, and Indigenous youth. Thus, tonight we are here to further embark on this journey of land, honor, ancestors, and community.

Many Richmond youth found writing and performance through R.A.W. Talent (Richmond Artist With Talent). R.A.W. Talent was a spoken word organization founded by Molly Raynor, and Donte Clark, as a movement of healing through writing and performance by Richmond youth. Donte, the Artistic Director of the production you are all about to witness, became not only a spoken word artist, but an author, a playwright, and much more. He had the opportunity to visit Ypsi two years ago while touring for his documentary Romeo is Bleeding,

8 (on Netflix) and loved Ypsi. Soon after he, along with Molly, started to dream up what a collaboration between Richmond and Ypsilanti could be. That is what we will be witnessing tonight!

The title, “Concrete, Not Wood,” comes from an Oakland native artist who created a skate park in the heart of Oakland. He shared with us that it was important to use concrete, not wood, because wood eventually fades, but concrete stays. While wood is decomposable, unable to last, easy to rot in rough conditions, concrete is forever, and so is the power of our youth. Both cities are connected across the country through our collective rage and our fight for liberation of people of color and our cities.

We are so excited to bring this show to you tonight in hopes that it will continue to spark an intergenerational revolution to one day take hold of the world we have always dreamt about. Here we are, holding all this power, and we choose to STAY.

Before this production begins, I offer this trigger warning to note that there will be difficult moments throughout this production. I offer you all a reminder to take care of yourself. If at any moment something is too heavy for you, please feel free to take space outside of the room. This show will touch of real painful realities of our community, and we ask that you do what you need in order to heal yourself, and be in community with us.

I leave you with this word from the Anishinabek and Wyandot people. The word is Anishanabe, meaning original person. We leave you with original stories. We continue with the power of our original people. Anishanabe. We are here to STAY. / We are fighting to STAY.

9 10 Act I // “The 1st”

“I have seen a neighborhood eat itself for dinner.”

—from poem “Gentrification,” by Dion Harrison and Kenny Carrol

11 Lights up on Zakiyyah, Sakinah and Samuel, front and center stage.

Ypsi Really Sold Out.

Zakiyyah: Ypsi celebrates Indigenous Peoples Day Yet sells native burial ground to developers You Probably Seen It Wants to keep the Black culture But remove the Black people Black culture Valued Black bodies Not Black bodies lower real estate value And Black homes real at stake Black homies real at stake For the sake of value Sake of business Sake of city Sake of Ypsi You Probably Seen It

Google will tell you “1825 the city of Ypsilanti was established” History tells you 1825 the city of Ypsilanti was officially colonized Officially gentrified When they steal land They take power When they take power They take security When they take security They take home 1825 it was named Godfroy’s Trading House Before that it was something else Someone else’s home Some people’s land

12 Land Equals power Land builds power And if you stay You have that power

Zakiyyah, Sakinah and Samuel break out into a step.

Sam: Only if you can keep it You see the conquerors took this land Stripped and gentrified the grounds that we possess That we merit and proclaim patriotic They used to be Indigenous Tales of a culture Names, voices, that remain silent Ancestors buried beneath concrete and dirt That whisper

We belong here

These streets are about power Land named and renamed Bought and sold Names that come and go People bought and sold

These streets are about power Broken beaten bodies beneath poverty

That sectioned off property THESE STREETS ALL ABOUT POWER And this is cemented in the politics

Sam: Cement

Zakiyyah: Submit to stone

Sam: Gravel

Sakinah: Gravesites

13 The flower beds of the ghetto They beautify this city Call it community gardening The hearts that hardened Plant those seeds And we reap the loss Our garden That grows—in numbers Our garden That’s loved—by numbers Our Garden Underground Now covered Stomped on

Stomp

Played on

Stomp

Forgotten Our history Forgotten Prospect Park Built on bodies that look like mine If they could predict the prospect Of where their bodies would be parked I wonder if they would choose to lay to rest there I wonder if they were seen as prospects As contributors of this city Were their contributions even recognized Or were they only recognized For what they contributed to the ground Six feet deep

The Godfroys, First white family to own property in Ypsi, Get street names and profits that run Six figures deep

14 White bodies That owned Black bodies like mine That ran Black bodies That ran Black bodies out That dropped Black bodies For six generations And for six generations ‘til present We reap the impact And the dirt Let it bury us Let them bury us Watch them play on our graves Dance

All: Ypsi really sold out

Stomp

//

Lights up on set (daytime). Neighbors on stoop.

Landlord’s voice over loudspeaker. Thomas enters stage on the phone. Lights up on the entire stage.

Landlord: Look Thomas, I know you don’t want to hear this but the rent is going up $150 next month. It’s just the way it is. You’re already short this month and I’ve tried to be flexible with you, but if you can’t get it together by the 1st, you’re out.

Thomas: Uh huh, uh huh, yea I’ll have it for you. Hangs up the phone and mutters to himself. Damn landlord. Lord, hmph. More like the devil.

Thomas walks up to neighbors.

Thomas: Aye Ronnie, long time no see.

15 Ronald: We just saw each other last night, fool.

Madam Honey: Girllll—

G Mama Mary and Madam Honey: You know he stupid.

Ronnie and G Mama Mary bust a laugh.

Thomas: Nah, what’s stupid is these damn kids out there dancing all of the time. Like they ain’t got nothing to worry about.

G Mama Mary: I like to see these chirin’ spending their time investing themselves in culture instead of getting—

Thomas cuts G Mama Mary off.

Thomas: Mannnnn, I don’t care about no investing in culture! I need someone to invest in the forgiveness of my debt and provide me a check. You know it’s the first.

G Mama Mary: And rent is due.

Ronald: And we know his broke ass ain’t got no money.

Madam Honey: At all.

G Mama Mary, Madam Honey and Ronald laugh.

Thomas: Aye now, y’all gon’ stop trying me.

G Mama Mary: You never could take a joke. That’s one of a million reasons I divorced you.

Thomas: Get over the past G Mama, I’m talking about the present. Rent is due, and I have nothing. Nothing, you hear me! Nothing. These retirement checks don’t cover shit! And today I just found out that next month the rent’s rising, and I have NOTHING!

16 Ronald: Some things never change—that’s what Marc Bassey said.

G Mama Mary: Ohhh but change gon’ come—now that’s what Sam Cooke said!

All neighbors sing: Change gon’ come. Oh yes it will.

Skeeter strolls over shaking his cup.

Skeeter: Change aint gon’ come unless you come with that change.

Ronald drops some change in the cup. Thomas dramatically is taken back.

Skeeter: Much obliged, sir.

Madam Honey: Well damn, let me get my cup!

Skeeter: What’s mine is yours Madam.

Skeeter tries to take Madam Honey’s hand to kiss it and she pulls away, disgusted. Thomas dramatically looks at Ronald.

Thomas: Didn’t I say…I don’t have nothing? And you steady helping the homeless!

Ronald: I help out because people like you won’t! Yeah I know I don’t have much but…I want to see change. Neighbors that actually look out for each other.

Lights down on stoop.

//

17 Lights up on stage- poets frozen in different spots.

All: If the house isn’t owned can you call the people around you neighbors?

Kenyatta walks to the front of the stage.

Kenyatta: Do you even talk to them? When my friend said “hi” to Jerry across the street I said, “you know his name?”

I remember late nights on Teen Nick Friends glowing on the 12am screen Chandler went to borrow sugar from the lady down the hall And I sit amazed he knew the lady down the hall Why haven’t I ever known the lady down the hall Or the man across the street Or the kid around my age that lived in the next complex Over Over again I thought.

Maybe I didn’t want to get to know the people around me Maybe it’s because Growing up my mother never owned a home We’ve rented many In Neighborhoods here most of the houses had shattered windows And black walls it appeared some of the ceilings had collapsed into their living rooms My family was grateful we had a roof My family was grateful we had proof that we were serving our ghetto That we hadn’t yet crumbled under the pressure of our own hood The pressure to sell poison to our fellow man Pressure to numb ourselves so we can’t say I can’t Or at the very least remember our responsibilities

18 The first place I remember was a two-house flat Our only “neighbors” were the roaches five year old me Avoided stepping on at night on my way to the Kitchen for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich

Like the roaches we tried to make a home out of a house we would never own Like the roaches we were born hated Like the roaches we were just working for our next meal Unlike the roaches when ppl saw us they didn’t yell “kill it” Well some did But others said put them in a cage And the rest settled for keeping us away Hoping we suffocated on our property I guess younger me had some kind of empathy

A tall man whose skin was white as egg shells And beard long and grey as rain clouds Owned our home

All: All of a sudden landlord sounds a lot like master.

T steps forward.

Tiyera: It’s June 6th about 11:30 in the morning and we get a knock at the door. A man wearing all black and white approaches. Paperwork in one hand, clipboard in the other. Mother will not let me listen, and sends me to my room. After the man leaves she calls us down to break the news. “That was an employee from the office, he says we’ve got till the 5th.” And somehow I can’t help but to wonder how we got here again. Rent’s due, but we still need tissue, it’s an issue that we’ve seen too many times before. We’re forced to sell our food stamps to make last months’ rent. We went hungry, and starving.

19 All: We stared at our bones and thought “maybe we could sell those too.”

T: Be to us some use. Thought maybe we could help. Because mama couldn’t rely on anybody but herself. NOT EVEN THE STATE! She went to war with them for us and lost everything. Everything but our section eight, now we’ve got nothing but that; And according to the office till the fifth. Should we be grateful? I can’t be, Not like this Grateful for what? Being one late payment from being homeless altogether? Grateful that at least we’d be homeless altogether? Grateful for what? Not even being able to afford the medication for my asthma, For the rent we have to donate plasma, Give the nutrients from our blood in exchange for a place to live, And by the end we may not still be alive To even live inside the place we sold our life to be a part of. So no I can’t be grateful, Not like this. Surviving from check to check, Living our life on a loop of time, And every time I turn around we’re almost out of it. If you stamp a date or a deadline on a home that isn’t mine There is something you will find and it’s urgency. We’ve got to pick up the pace, Find another place to stay. I take a look at the date, And it’s the 27th I don’t know if we’ll make it. Well fast forward a few months and we’re back in this same situation. They call it “subsidized housing.”

20 I keep thinking that maybe if I keep at my two jobs I can help. But minimum wage is barely enough for myself And with me working mama says the rent has went up. They go off of income, Guess they think I can afford it. There really isn’t a way out of this is there? My street has changed— More empty, More bare, More neighbors who stare, Another knock and look who’s there? It’s the landlord, And I am allowed to listen this time. He says we’ve got till the 30th But looking at everything we’ve lost I guess I should say thank you for giving us that.

All: In my city it’s a cycle

Shane walks to the front of the stage.

Shane: Systematic residential Hippocratic type of status Single mama getting moved out of her home, it’s so tragic It’s so sad because she already works two jobs, damn those taxes Got the counter scattered with dozens of ramen packets

What must’ve happened I must’ve tapped in I started seeing visions of success because of rappin’ But stop the cappin’ Gentrification leaving a mark Rebranding public housing and leaving a permanent scar

Come March can no longer renew the lease Remember having hot dogs in my spaghetti for meat Shut ya loud mouth about how you love Ypsilanti But don’t wanna travel any further then YTC

Oh oh I must be feeling delirious Tryna move the culture out the city, are you serious

21 I’m curious, you hearing this, I’m blaring it loudly Oh yeah, no more public housing

Dajone walks to the front of the stage.

All: In my city it’s a cycle

Dajone: Many can relate to Most refuse to see Hatred shown, minds blown No trust and unfaithful Folks labeled crazy and unstable Reasons depression sprung from such youngins Brothers locked in cages for ages

All: Separation ain’t new

Dajone: Combining our schools wasn’t To better the school system Lead to fights, Displacement Bodies dropped against pavement Less graduating From fist fights to gun violence

Where niggas post guns for clout And the OGs on the block ask for change Posted in the neighborhood On the South or en route It’s where you’ll find me

Empty stomachs turn Bridges burned Lessons never learned Depending upon others Like most suffer begging to belong

Paved our own path Tired of coming last From the Willow to the Brooke,

22 You might get your shit took Even looked at different For being a change

All: Ypsi really sold out

Dajone: It’s the journey that matters People so focused on a destination Their attention span won’t allow

Now pill heads and headaches To those who are sober From the drink or in clouds that never clear Undecided whether college is the way

A stressed sickened family Awaken to every morning, With no plan each day Praying I’m not in the way

A cluttered box stuffed with history Suffocated with lies the eye won’t see Understated context, sugar coated But unsweet like Kool-Aid

My grandfather made this grind I got It’s always someone with no taste That has something to say

Wordless on Father’s Day and numbing all my feelings The next day on my glo day mad at the world Cuz he never got to watch me walk that stage Or to see me be the man I will be

No one feels me and it kills me inside Like the cancer he had in his pancreas The hunger and aggression From wood to concrete Like life, wood is only temporary

23 Could’ve should’ve would’ve but please don’t dare me Lingering through y’all streets with fallin’ leaves Leaving odors that helps my kind stress less and chill more No struggle no gain Now or never cuz there won’t be later

My anger is layered like our globe Only my core is broke, soaked of hurt For not fulfilling what you’ve asked

It’s hard having hope in something you can’t see All those memories give me PTSD From revisiting the past in order to heal

All: It’s hard to beat statistics when you’re born one

Lu walks to the front of the stage.

Lu: I’m steady tryna figure out the definition of home I’ve been told it’s something like a safe place filled with happy lives and support But home for me is a tornado of chaos over a sea of pain So if we’re going by your definition of home I have no home Just a couple houses and some buildings filled with unclaimed memories Engulfed by the sweet smell of s’mores and the burning of an endless fire But I want one And I know how juvenile this sounds but, I want home to be a place where everybody gets along Where every sexuality is supported, every race loved, every gender valid I’m tryna live in a place where I don’t fear the sidewalks Where kids are lulled to sleep by crickets and laughter Instead of gunshots and screaming I’m dreaming of a home where when winter hits you don’t turn to ice,

24 Cause nowadays it seems like there ain’t no such thing as heat Or at least not the type that’ll keep you warm It seems like nowadays we only surrounded by violence, No such thing as safety

My momma used to tell me stories of work And it seems like every single one started with “Girl, we had to call the cops again,” And everytime I’d hear these words it would take a moment for me to process “Another Black boy’s been shot” Her words repeated themselves in my head like a never ending echo Cause this is only happening a street or two over, This is only happening around the corner I don’t want this to be home, Don’t wanna live around the corner from a place Where a police report drops every hour

But, I’m tryna go home, not to some houses filled with unclaimed memories, Buildings that are being torn down and rebuilt with someone else’s imagery I want safety and security, I want to be surrounded by love I want to walk through the door and mean it when I scream “HOME SWEET HOME,” But we don’t always get what we want And this is the closest thing to home I got So if the heat don’t work, it don’t work Maybe I’m not lulled to sleep by laughter but at least I got somewhere to sleep But I might not cause as rent goes up and salaries stay down I’m watching my friends and family get kicked out, forced to live on the streets Cause newcomers have no mercy for the Ypsi community I’m sick of it Tired of wondering if there won’t be enough money to stay here

25 This is my home And I know it’s a little run down but, Is home really a home if the paint don’t peel and the residents don’t scream?

Lu, T and Malik: Is a home really a home if the couch doesn’t smell like you?

Lu, Rachael, Dajone, T and Malik: If the walls don’t welcome you back?

Lu, Rachael, Dajone, T, Malik, Kenyatta and Shane: If the floors don’t look to you and ask where you went?

All: I’m just trying to find home.

Rachael walks to the front of the stage.

Rachael: My neighbors are young. And they like to experiment. But when their experiences catch them slipping, they grab what they can. Grasping for hope and grabbing an addiction. As my city gets whiter I worry about the experimenters. Where they’ll go. How they’ll get there If they’ll continue to be forgotten.

My neighbors are young And they like to study. Study disease. Study the human experience. Study them. The experimenters, our other neighbors They want to know why they do what they do But don’t even considering asking them. And as my city gets whiter they still don’t see them. Just study them. Pray for them.

26 Skeeter comes out onstage and makes a bed for himself, Rachael motions to him as she speaks.

I went to DC Where homeless people are everywhere and nowhere. Everywhere as in the war on drugs continues to destroy that community. As in the wealthiest people can’t spare their change, As their black cards burn holes through their pockets. As in their welfare isn’t even accounted for How can we call someone a citizen, If we don’t even treat them like a person.

And then they’re nowhere.

No where in the aspect of no one sees them.

We look up We look down We look at our phones Because this virtual connection with a computer Is easier than to look a man with nothing in his eyes.

But I saw him.

Malik comes to the front of stage, scratching his neck, acting high. Rachael motions to him as she speaks. Skeeter gets up and stands on the other side of her. Malik and Skeeter mirror each other’s movements.

And I’m worried.

I saw my neighbor—

He was jittery but he is a human. He went to the same school as me. Grew up on the same block as me. He scratches behind his ear, He scratches behind his leg.

27 A rhythm of struggle. But I just see a man. Struggling with his reality and the dangers within.

I don’t want him to be criminalized. He needs to be hospitalized. To be helped. To be taught he can overcome this disease.

My neighbors, they study him. But they’ve never even seen him.

Malik steps forward.

Malik: I’ve been around, whoah I’ve been on ground level, Seen the streets, seen you happy, Don’t ever wanna see you frown ever [I’m] Testing my sound levels [I] Only trust brown niggas [you] Won’t catch me down ever Unless you catch me up, without my sounds playin How many rounds can a brotha go? How many times can a nigga fold? Always question what we don’t know, How many times can I pour soul And pour more Like a poor boy with some poor dope Clean the floor soap, stigma won’t go Racism won’t leave, oh no,

I’ve been around, now have You been to town? It don’t Look like streets to me, nobody knows what that means to me Seems like they trying to take a piece of me, Replace it with something for money For money, [stupid ass lil’ boy] They thought they was slick, they wasn’t Thought that we was dumb, we wasn’t Don’t correct me, I speak Black

28 Gimme a minute, I’ll be back Set the setting, grab the facts [I’ll] Teach my youngins bout this shit Staying Power, that’s my shit From the Willow to the Andersons They know my dog, they planned all this I’m really not a fan of this, please make my home my home again I’m hella pissed that I’m not glued down, we might move out Rent is up, what’s the move now? We can’t afford it well I guess we’ll move out DAMN.

Respect the people here before me Let us pray out to the Lord, Lord, Lord, Please go and give em fortune, I know that you can’t reverse time, And take away all their horrors but Make it easier Make them the receiver of So many blessings Cuz life’s too short to be stressing Not to have yo people at your side Too short for racist guys It’s too short for you to be tripping about them bills, Although they mad tall, Stand yo ground up on this real, lemme tell y’all

I’m tryna make a way for all my people, I wanna lift y’all, I wanna see y’all up there with my dogs, I’m tryna put you on some game now, Not tryna fade out, they tryna kill us, If not then bill us, out the block, how? So here’s the plan now

We gon kick them out our neighborhoods if they don’t wanna listen I remember days when we didn’t have to trip out, now we trip in Be more like fam now Remember the good times?

29 Florida, Jay-Jay, Dynamite, don’t do what they say I was a little bae bae, remember when I would go on play dates, walk down the street and see my look-a-like, Tryna say we ain’t pushing right Or pushing at all, or not the right spot No, no, I can’t attack y’all, like it or not

Violence ain’t gon’ do no good, That’s how this started or maybe greed though Or greedy souls, we gotta be better than that We should be settling that Keep moving and stay tight, ya know like family That’s what we supposed to be, family

Everyone steps up to the front of the stage and sings along with Malik to end of song. The rest of the cast joins them to perform: “Memories of Ypsi.”

Sam: Ever-Green used to be the place that every kid grew up We brought moldy bread to throw and watch the ducks swarm our feet

Em: Went to Bogg’s gas station everyday after a day at the park To buy ice cream, rode my bike around the block

Jua’Chelle: Picking dandelions, Playing hide n go seek through my whole street

All: Yeah, that’s a memory

Monét: Walking to the corner store Getting something to sip on for 79 cents

All: Of course that’s a memory

Sam: 4100 Carpenter Road is where we would meet Played at Zap Zone and caught the newest flick at Rave

30 Lu: I remember lunches at Big Boy almost every Saturday I remember climbing trees in the backyard on Washtenaw Walking to Dom´s bakery on the daily, Even the memory smells like walnut brownies

Em: My grandparents would take me To Gordon’s Five and Dime Every time they visited

Zakiyyah: Took care of my first dog in Ypsilanti, Fell in love with mans best friend Used to sneak in the basement at night just to pet him

Malik: That old mill was always there Pops still took me when he could He rarely ever caught anything

Kenyatta: Peninsular Place always looked like a palace growing up

Malik: Liquor store always made me feel rich Quarter cents would buy me a lot Whipping around parking lot of abandoned school Those curbs taught me how to drive

Monét: First day in Ypsi over the tracks, over the hill Through the woods, welcomed me to a new hood with open arms Dates at the Huron River with new Ypsi boo Getting me hip to Ypsi history

Ciatta: Nothing mattered back then Didn’t worry about losing sight of Ypsi Now it’s fading away

Tiyera: Going to the candy lady’s house used to be My favorite part about living in Ypsi All childhood troubles of the day were Swept away by sugary snacks and candy

31 Em: Grew up in Depot Town Favorite places have disappeared, had to make new ones Hunting for some place that was still original Ypsi

Dajone: Before the bowling alley became Fresh Thyme

Shane: Before Kmart became the At Home store

Ciatta: No home at the At Home store

Jua’Chelle: I miss my life being convenient Like the convenience store, Von’s it was called Now it’s a Save-A-Lot I am not saving a lot Living in this newfound Ypsi

Dajone: But this is still my home Where I belong Where my brothers and sisters belong

Kenyatta: Where the Black, Muslim, Latinx, Asian and— White people belong Not by the acts of force But by the acts of just living

All: This is still my home

Rachael: I like to go to La Torre with my friends

Kenyatta: Ice Cream Time is the spot everybody goes

Rachael: My favorite place is Riverside park There are so many different types of people there at all times They’re all different but coexist, and always show kindness To the people they think could be their neighbor

Sakinah: My first favorite memory happened on Second Street

32 That house / second to the end of the street On bike—that backyard caught my falls

All: Those fences Sakinah: Hugged me

All: Those trees Sakinah: Watched

All: Those trees Sakinah: Protected

All: Those trees Sakinah: Fed

All: Those trees Sakinah: My forest

All: My haven Sakinah: Safe space

And it hugged me That house was theirs But this backyard—my world

Shane: My globe

Dajone: My home Hugs me

Sakinah: Patches grew on my grass But blade be resilient And still caught my falls Those fences, my walls

All: This land be mine

Sakinah: Although named under Hall

33 All: This my world My home And it loved me

Lights off onstage.

//

Lights up on entire stage. Ciatta, T, Lu, Monét, Em, Zakiyyah, and Sakinah are frozen and spread out across the back of the stage. Sam and Malik walk to front of stage.

Sam: Black man

Malik: Boy

Sam: What’s the matter with you? Don’t you know better?

Malik: Watch out lil’ man before I beat you ass

Sam: Boy you ain’t no good

Malik: You just like daddy

Samuel: He ain’t never done nothing good except walk away from us

Malik: Don’t you walk away from me Black boi

Sam: Black men all the same—they ain’t shit

Malik: Don’t relate me to somebody who wasn’t raised the same way that I was

Sam: Kind of crazy how it work, right?

Malik: Get grouped with my species, but they don’t try to understand my turf

34 Both: Tight

Sam: That’s just life, right?

Malik: Get over it

Sam: You a man

Malik: You strong

Sam: See what I’m saying

Malik: You’ll be aight

Sam: I’m already hit with so much bullshit My street ain’t my street no more A white couple moved in and they called the cops On me like this is they neighborhood Get with the Tomorrow program, we been here

Malik: Ayyy don’t you forget That you Black in this racist country And you the most hated, And got the biggest target on yo back, Even by your own people Can’t tell who wit you and who not

Sam: Code switching, Leather yesterday but now it’s fur today, Act friendly but you tough any other day, That’s that plastic

Malik: But If I don’t know how to change my attitude and Speak the white man’s language then what am I supposed to do? Stay true

Sam: Stay real

Malik: Keep it a hundred G

35 Sam: It’s what we supposed to do

Malik: Tell me what I’m supposed to do then, bro There ain’t never been no real rules to this Pops ain’t never gave me no guidelines even when he was there He can’t teach me about living as a Black man When he stuck behind that glass wall or behind that bottle

Sam: You make the rules to this The hustle taught me, “what is a mistake without a lesson?” See, the best teacher in life is your own experience None of us know who we are until we fail They say every man is defined—

Malik: By what? The wrong steps? The one time that we don’t do something right?

Sam: Express our emotions

Malik: Lash out from holding our tongue for so long

Sam: Pop off

Malik: Then by definition a lot of Black men Is locked up right now off the first offense

Sam: We don’t get no second chance, If you get caught up, then you caught

Malik: Stuck in the clutches of countless chains Believe my truth, it’s hard to explain This Black blood only fuels this system

Sam: So can we call this place home?

Malik: Can we call this city home?

Both: Can we call this country home?

36 Malik: Believe that liberation was meant for me?

Sam: To escape this place that slaps The label PRISONER and strips our identity

Malik: A place that makes me lose sight of what was instilled in me Even my father told me I came from royalty I can’t help but to want to believe in his prophecy

Sam: So why do I feel like strange fruit hanging, The color stuck to my skin I can’t take it off, You don’t know the cost Keep the cops banging on my block

Malik: Born into a system that always Charts the course straight into a wall

Sam: Planning every step like it’s chess

Malik: Believing that I gotta keep this thang on me Control something cuz it always feels like I can’t control nothing I made me into the man I am today

Both: I made this place my home

Sam: Incarcerated my pain

Malik: Internalized my fear

Sam: What may have seemed fragile kept me solid

Malik: I built myself from the ground up

Sam: Put the weight on my back, no matter the cost

Malik: But what did you lose?

37 Malik: My Home

Sam: My Respect

Malik: My Integrity

Sam: My Queen

Shane, Kenyatta and Dajone step forward and join piece. As men are saying accountability lines, women and nonbinary poets walk forward and listen. Men direct the following lines towards them.

All men: And for these reasons I’m sorry

Shane: I’m sorry I didn’t have your back as much as you had mine

Malik: I’m sorry that my depression pulled you down in the dumps with me Cause it don’t make sense for me to keep my pain and make you pay penance

Sam: Especially for a sentence that started with I love and ended with—

All: I’m sorry

Dajone: My words did not reflect my actions

Kenyatta: I’m sorry for lashing out at you as if you was the problem

Shane: I’m sorry for taking your love like it was owed to me

Malik: It was easier to turn a blind eye when their eyes travel and linger

Dajone: Than to stand my ground and take the chance of being outcasted

38 Malik: I had a self-help mediation session with myself recently and I realized that:

Shane: I don’t know what it’s like to be a woman I know to be one, you don’t have to have a uterus

Kenyatta: I don’t know what it’s like to be a man, apparently I know that the stereotypical definition of man Is masculinity, but that’s just humorous

Malik: I don’t know what being non-binary is like I know that it’s probably hella uncomfortable When your family doesn’t understand

Dajone: I don’t know everything But I’m beginning to understand some things

All: Everyday I ask my shadow what the right way to love someone is

All men: We’re tired of this box

Malik: Whether incarcerated or not we’re walled in

Sam: By the pressure to be hard, emotionless

Ciatta: We hear you

Women-aligned and Non-Binary poets: But we’re tired too

T: Don’t you see we protect you to our own detriment?

Lu: Moon eclipsing itself for the sake of nightsky

Monét: This emotional labor is heavy

Em: We carry the metal of your burdened bodies, and our own

39 Ciatta: Without hearing thank you, without asking to hear it

Malik: Black men are 20% more likely to suffer from depression

Kenyatta: But 26% less likely to go to therapy

Shane: Funny how 6% could represent 5.59 million men that don’t want to change

Dajone: I guess we gotta get honest about mental health

Shane: We gotta show up for each other

Sam: I need to lean on my brothers

Dajone: I need to speak on my feelings

Kenyatta: We gotta break silence around rape culture

Malik: Draw my guys back on their catcalling Most times, women left free falling Don’t treat em’ as objects, give men a new eye set Stop lil’ homies from eyeballing What they shouldn’t be

Lu: We gotta smash this gender binary boxing us all in

Em: Where is the space for our trans, our nonbinary, our two spirit friends in this poem?

Ciatta: In the streets?

Shane: They say Ypsi’s becoming a safer city

Monét: They are trying to clean the walls of us

40 T: Paint over graffiti of our names, our joy and our pain

Lu: Proof that these streets once belonged to us

Zakiyyah: Hard to see history when it’s plastered over with cheap for sale signs

Sakinah: Hard to see the bigger picture when we’re still staring at little frames

Malik: Hard to come together as a whole when the whole city changed

Shane: This morning, my shadow gave me an answer

Lu: Said love’s a fickle thing

Malik: Much easier to love the person next to you when you love yourself

Ciatta: In darkness, everyone’s my shadow

All: In the struggle, we all we got

Monét: We all on different busses getting off at the same stop

Dajone: Our differences don’t have to divide us

Zakiyyah and Sakinah: We want more than streetlights to guide us

Kenyatta: Tonight, we’re bridging the gap

All: Tonight, we’re bringing the moon back

41 42 Act II // “The 15th”

We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan.

from poem “Kitchenette Building,” —by Gwendolyn Brooks

43 Lights up on entire set (daytime).

Thomas: Aye Ronnie! Where you work again?

Ronald: You know I work at the University

Thomas: You a professor?

Ronald: Nah I ain’t no professor.

Thomas: You security?

Ronald: Shut up fool! I am, with this new promotion of course, Head of Janitorial services

Thomas: Sooo you out here scrubbing the shit stains out the toilets now?

Ronald: And they are paying generously for it

Thomas: how much they paying you then?

Ronald: Well, it was 12 an hour, but that promotion bumped me to 15

Thomas: Oh so you ballin now?

Ronald: Well I ain’t ballin per se—

Thomas: You said 15

Ronald: Yeah

Thomas: And it’s the 15th?

Ronald: Yeah

Thomas: Shoot I’m thinking if you getting paid, then we getting paid too!!!

44 Ronald: And how’d you come up with that Tommy

Thomas: It’s halfway through the month and our retirement checks don’t cover the rent raise

G Mama Mary and Madam Honey enter.

Ronald: I don’t know man

G Mama Mary: What y’all talking bout?

Ronald: Tommy said y’all could use some cash

G Mama Mary: Boy, dont you listen to him because he don’t wanna go out and get his own money

Thomas: But we could use the cash!

G Mama Mary: And you think he doesn’t need it? he gotta pay bills just like we do, he in the same situation

Thomas: No he not! He still working and—

G Mama Mary: Ok even if he does gives us the money, what bout next month, and the month after that and the month after that? This won’t change nothing and we all gonna be put out. That ain’t a better situation than the one we in right now

Thomas: Look na, I wouldn’t be asking if we ain’t need it for real. This won’t change anything, your right, but it will solve our problems. You were just telling me about how we need money. This is our temporary fix. Just because you are too stubborn to ask doesn’t mean I’m not.

G Mama Mary: Who me…stubborn? Yo stubborn self the reason we got in this mess. You ain’t never want to get a job after retirement and you know my doctor said I can’t work with my disabilities and all.

45 Thomas: You really love to put all the blame on me. Like I gotta have all the answer for everything.

G Mama Mary: Tommy do you ever be thinking? It seems like you don’t never have any answers except to ask somebody to do something for you.

Madam Honey: Girl I told you since highschool that his ass was lazy, you ain’t wanna listen. And here we are.

G Mama Mary: Well can’t change what you can’t change, like the past. But you can change this situation...if you’d just work Thomas.

Thomas: Or if you ask someone for help?

All the neighbors murmur.

Sound of screeching bus tires.

Richmond teens get off the bus with suitcases and walk past neighbors who get distracted from their conversation and stare at the teens.

Ronald: Tourists in Ypsi? Laughs. Are y’all lost? This aint the stop for Ann Arbor, you must be looking for the Blake Transit. Where are y’all coming from?

Zay: No we’re in the right place. We’re visiting from California. My cousin lives here.

Thomas: Your cousin needs to be visiting YOU, ain’t nothing in Ypsi. Gon’ go from Cali to Ypsi...ain’t that bout a—

Zay: My cousin says Ypsi is a lot like Richmond.

Ronald: Oh you mean Virginia, DMV

Ann: No California, Richmond, California. Near Oakland.

46 All Neighbors Makes “Ahh” sound in understanding.

Thomas: Oh, Coach Carter!

Madam Honey: Baby you said Ypsi is like Richmond? Tell us more about where you come from.

Zay: We come from corner stores and Sunday schools

Marlen: From a divided dysfunctional city But where the functions is always a vibe A city of warm memories

Ann: Trapped by a cold justice system From police sirens From air always smelling of weed Piss and alcohol on the bus Always having to deal with a big cigarette in my face

All: That we call Chevron

Marlen: A smoke cloud of toxicity So much it once covered blocks and blocks of our city Leaving us burdened with asthma & health conditions

Zay: We come from poverty Always having to buy $1.50 bag of chips And $1 arizona because We don’t have enough money for food.

Nyree: From a long list of Black owned businesses Budding from the concrete jungle floor. From our mothers Their strength A small strong force of nature Like ocean Always moving Shore to shore

47 Ann: Our veins have the language we keep in our blood Music flowing and its messages straight to our hearts

Zay: And then there is the concrete The hard shit Moments we survived

Marlen: While carrying layers of Ancestral prayers Chanting a mantra of

All: I am my sisters’ keeper I am my brothers’ keeper Keeper of sanity and song And here In our beloved city Is where we belong

Zay: And that’s on period, pooh!

All: Our city is filled to the brim with ancestral magic Can’t you see that glow on us

Zay: We come from a people too ocean to drown Too earthy to be buried Too much of our mamas to back down Here us, and here us now

All: Our city is not for the taking

Neighbors applaud.

G Mama Mary: Amen—that’s what I like to hear!

Madam Honey: I generally don’t like children but these babies are the truth!

Marlen: Thank you, it’s nice to meet you all.

Zay: Come on y’all, I see my cousin. Let’s go.

48 G Mama Mary: You all be safe now!

Lights down on stoop. Lights up on entire stage. Em, Rachael, La’Chelle are center stage as Richmond poets approach.

Zay: Aaaaaaaa Chelly Chelle!

Zay and Jua’Chelle hug.

Zay: I been saying I would visit my whole life and I’m finally here! So you know I had to bring my people with me.

Everyone introduces themselves.

Marlen: Your neighbors seemed to think we were lost. Laughs.

Zay: So this is Ypsi? This looks just like the Rich—

Ann: Yup, I see a bunch of corner stores already.

Nyree: Annnnnnnd there goes a white lady walking her dog in the middle of the hood. This is definitely like Richmond!

Skeeter walks by doing Skeeter things.

Skeeter: If I take her money and hand her this here merchandise, is that considered a robbery?

Everyone looks at each other and laugh.

Nyree: Yea, this feels like home.

Ann: Except colder.

Nyree: And greyer.

Rachael: Hey now, you’re the ones who decided to come in December!

49 Em: It may be freezing and depressing but we love our little city.

Zay: Well tell us about it then—go on and bless us with a history lesson.

Rach and Em step forward while the rest of them step to the side.

Rach: My friends tell me Ypsi is dangerous. They tell me they’re scared to walk in the morning, noon, or dusk, Never knowing what’s around that corner. They feel safer in a whiter city. Less violence, less crime.

Em: My parents say that business is better with these new shops. They’re adding new clientele.

Rach: But their new clientele all look the same and now I feel unwelcomed

Em: That new Ann Arbor bar really ties everything together.

Rach: They call us urban but they only know Urban Outfitters.

Em: Now I don’t need to go ALL the way to Ann Arbor for my yoga classes!

Rach: Your cultural appropriation isn’t worth my culture’s erasure.

Em: Increased rent isn’t a problem with daddy’s money.

Rach: Generational wealth: something I’ve never seen because our mules were impounded and 40 acres stolen.

Em: Ypsi is like so ghetto, but we’ll make it nicer.

50 Rach: White savior complex. They call us violent but never acknowledge the violence of segregation & erasure. My city does not need saving!

Both: My city does not need saving!

Em: They say there’s no redlining in Ypsi

Rach: But their neighbors will never look like me.

Em: They say there’s no redlining in Ypsi

Rach: But still, my neighborhood is patrolled and theirs is watched.

Em: They say there is no redlining in Ypsi

Rach: But still Ypsi high is the Blackest school in Washtenaw County and receives the least funding.

Em: We tried to break down the system But instead they ran us over with tar And drove 90 mph over our unmarked graves. They do it every time just like on Water Street, Acting like that once nourished land isn’t home to an Indigenous burial site. Acting like dumping toxic waste isn’t further disrespecting the people. Acting like we’re not there. Acting like we could afford to live there, Leaving us to rot.

Rach: I-94 Who knew an interstate could be so racist. Cut right through us Like we’re not even there, Breaking us apart Then trapping us with the walls. Blocking the noise pollution And my view to my neighbors.

51 Both: They want our city but it is ours.

Em: They say there are no powerful Black people from Ypsi.

Rach: HP Jacobs:

Em: A self freed man, who founded a local school and a church. That school and that church make Ypsilanti what it is today. Those two places make the Black community in Ypsi what it is today.

Both: And we thank him for his guidance.

Em: George de Baptiste:

Rach: A man born free, who helped hundreds of people escape slavery. Successful caterer, barber, founded secret Black society fighting for the freedoms of the Black life. Perfected the crowns of his people, while protecting their lives.

Both: And we thank him for his fearlessness.

Rach: Bernice Kersey:

Em: Teacher loved by all. Loved so much that everyone around town knew her. A resource, a source of inspiration, a source of hope. Fired from her job so the white women would have some Negro children to save…I mean teach. But Bernice was determined and would eventually teach in Ypsi again. Be a source of hope again.

Both: And we thank her for her determination.

Em: Isa Stewart:

Rach: Escaped slavery and founded the Brown Chapel AME church.

52 She and her husband provided a safe space for the Black community to thrive and grow.

And we thank her for her leadership.

These people paved the way for us. Their power remains strong, they will help us keep our city.

Lights down on entire set.

//

Lights up on stoop. Neighbors are eating from takeout styrofoam containers.

G Mama Mary: Everyone bow your heads as we pray.

Neighbors proceed to bow their heads.

G Mama Mary: Lord Almighty, we gather here together before you today by your grace and blessing over this delicious—

Madame Honey: Unhealthy

G Mama Mary: But wealthy to the soul—

Thomas: Expensive

G Mama Mary: And still we are blessed—

Ronald: Stressed

Thomas: I hear that over there Type Two Diabetes.

Ronald: Boutta be three after this!

Madam Honey: Unhealthy

53 Thomas: Expensive

G Mama Mary: But blessed be the meal you have provided for us, Oh Lord.

Madam Honey: As a matter of fact, where is the salad?

Thomas: Tell em’ G Mama, our salary can’t afford salads!

G Mama Mary focused on the prayer and yells:

G Mama Mary: And still Lord you provide, please forgive thy neighbors ignorance. Ameeen.

Skeeter enters really happy.

Skeeter: Amen! We eating?

Madam Honey: I mean, WE eating.

Madam Honey points at all the neighbors besides Skeeter.

Thomas: You only come around when you want something.

Ronald: Which is all the time.

Skeeter: And all the time y’all get the same stuff!

Madam Honey: He’s right, I don’t know why! New restaurants pop up in Ypsi all the time.

Ronald: What you gonna do—walk down to Whole Foods and grab us something new?

Madam Honey: I’m just saying a woman of my caliber should be eating in some of these new establishments.

Thomas: With what money? You act so bougie but you’re just as broke as the rest of us. These restaurants aren’t for us.

54 G Mama Mary: We could have a Whole Foods on every corner, and that still won’t change the fact that we can’t afford it. It’s a food desert for those of us on EBT.

Ronald: Oh look, you two finally agree.

Madam Honey: Sounds like renewed wedding vows! Laughs.

Skeeter: Oh I got some wedding vows for you MaDAMN!

Madam Honey: Oh hush. Chuckles.

G Mama Mary: Get over here Skeeter and grab your plate.

Skeeter does the skeeter dance as he receives his food.

Kenyatta emerges from stage right, says hi to Skeeter and walks to the bus stop and as he performs. Lights down on stoop, lights up on bus stop.

Kenyatta: Aren’t we all propaganda Rich girl loves her moca cus that shit fast good Broke girl can’t have one cus she live in the hood The hood don’t have Starbucks If it did then I would probably have one If only I had the funds But in section eight rent’s going up The landlord needs his cash And the refrigerator need food

My pops says we broke, the darkness repeats him when the light switch doesn’t work He says he hates being broke Asks me why I didn’t turn on the heat when I got home I bet he knows “It might be green but this shit don’t grow” A saying I engrained in every bone I even cut it into my tongue

55 It’s my first language, I can show you it’s usage I can even translate it

What’s for dinner made “I’m not hungry” The noun birthday cake is replaced with a card and a “do you feel older yet”

I’m old enough to notice when I don’t get shit because we don’t have it I’m old enough to read the utility Moving is a possibility With no money in hand I hear Starbucks is looking to expand I know the hood can’t coexist So I type up this as a form of protest

Sound of screeching bus tires.

Jua’Chelle, Marlen and Anne walk out with a basket, nod at Kenyatta and walk past him to the garden. Lights down on bus stop, lights up on garden. Jua’Chelle performs.

Jua’Chelle: I remember when I walked to the corner store Getting my brothers something to snack on But “EBT IS NOT ACCEPTED HERE” Is posted on the front door

Walk back home and I thought about That garden, it comes with A price when the whole neighborhood needs it Not monetary but meaning because The produce in the market is too Expensive for mama, who’s a single mother of five

The garden became my homes’ food pantry Food stamps was lowered because I worked minimum wage And the government thought that’s enough for a Household of six

56 The garden became my siblings and my second home The gates became our doors Tomato, cabbage and squash patches Became our rooms where we’d lie for hours The pollination became the incense of our garden made household

Mama will be lucky if food stamps makes it through this month It’s winter so the garden is no longer flourishing We have to depend on the free reduced lunch at school You know, collect all the fruits and vegetables that people put in the share basket Because we won’t have anything on the weekend

Weekends Mama works all day So she can have enough money to pay All these damn bills but filling up the fridge Is the one she often forgets This cycle will all be over soon when the garden comes back

But then there comes the price Then there comes these restaurants Called Ma Lou’s on the front stand Selling food originated from the Black hand But a white man owns it

If you turn the corner, it’s still Ypsilanti but an Ann Arbor restaurant selling food a plenty got their names Stitched on their backs so the world can see it Blocking out the people who thrive in downtown Selling their food around town Not in their neighborhood But in mine

WHITE OWNED BUSINESS opening their space in my neighborhood Thinking that they slick because they giving 10% back But in my neighborhood, we are 100% black

57 I don’t care what charities you offer, I don’t want it because once I accept it My Black hands turn into the gratuity basket for their success

We should learn to sustain ourselves off the land that we reside in We shouldn’t have to depend on the government giving us our nourishment The societal structure has made us think that we have to pay to get food

But imagine if we do like our ancestors did Growing greens so high they shelter us The vines of those yams, peppers, potatoes and squash Comforting us with their fragrance Because we know it’s the one thing we do have

From the soil to our plates We can make our own food without the white man putting a price on it Those patches of vegetables can be where we spend our time instead of A line in the grocery store for overpriced produce

Our neighborhoods can make food Originated from the colored hand Imagine us taking control back on our land Making our own currency through our natural commerce Trading goods for food and providing ourselves with nutrition Imagine us being able to sustain ourselves—with just a garden

Jua’Chelle kneels down and begins tending to garden, picking flowers and veggies to put in her basket. Ann and Marlen perform piece and begin making altar at front of stage for libations as they perform.

Marlen: This is the rebellion of land, earth, and ancestors The rebellion of the Potawatomi and Ohlone

58 This is for their forced removal Those native to the land we are occupying

Ann: Keepers of the culture Keepers of history and desire This is the rebellion of their legacy and liberation A memory of sacrifice and dedication

All: A reminder of the struggles of Black, Brown, and Indigenous roots From the Atlantic slave trade to borders and caravans to assimilation or execution We are not new to erasure and pain

Marlen: Here, in this land. eugenics is not dead Just renamed gentrification You see, gentrification is not the same as beautification But is the same as displacement As being pushed or shipped out As being murdered or raped for land As red lining and forced entry by white men Tell me, what is the difference?

Ann: We were called savages and forced off our land And when white folks came, it was no longer our home Our languages were stripped Our culture dried out And we are no different than the ghettos of the world From Ypsilanti, to the South Bronx, to Hunter’s Point in San Francisco To Richmond, Ca, the City of Pride and Purpose

Marlen: We hear a lot about borders But never much about bridges

Ann: Borders are to block folks out Bridges are to extend a hand

All: A language A love that could defy the hatred in this world

59 We are asking you to help us build a bridge around our garden The place in which we grow A place where our ancestors sleep Will you water a new world with us?

Lights down on stage.

//

Lights up on Sakinah and Zakiyyah, front center stage as they perform “Scattered Thoughts.”

Zay, Nyree and Cici come out with bowl of water, walk to front center stage to join Sakinah and Zakiyyah where an altar of flowers has been created. Marlen, Anne and Jua’Chelle join them.

Jua’Chelle: Libations is a sacred African ceremony in which we call in everyone we hold holy as we ground ourselves and our communities in this space today.

Ann: Water, symbolic of ancestors, of revolutions, and our joy.

Marlen: A plant, symbolic of earth, of roots, both past, and all that will come.

Cici: We open the circle three times as to pay homage to our community. First we ask that you share out the names of our ancestors, those passed on. Those who held you in your darkness, who fought for the land you reside on. Those in and outside of your blood line. Those murdered by police. Those whose names were erased from our knowledge. We say Ase after each is said aloud.

60 Zay: Then we open circle for all the folx who are here in and out of this room. Those who hold rage as a sacred means of survival. Those incarcerated, those pushed out, displaced, may their names never be forgotten. After each we say Ase.

Sakinah and Zakiyyah: Lastly, we open the circle for all those coming after out footsteps. All of the babies, and babies to come. All of the young leaders, artists, organizers, and fighters still forming in the womb. After each we say Ase. And at the closing of the circle, we end on the name Skeeter, and say Ase three times.

Nyree: While we make space for grief tonight, we also make space for joy. For celebration. We must preserve our art, our stories, our memories—we are the culture-keepers, the griots of our generation.

ALL: And so it is.

61 62 Act III // “The 30th”

come celebrate with me that everyday something has tried to kill me and has failed.

—from poem “Won’t You Celebrate With Me,” by Lucille Clifton

63 Neighbors are sitting on the stoop. Madam Honey gets a call from the landlord.

Landlord voice: Ms. Honey, I came to pick up rent this morning and yours wasn’t in the box. I’ve already given you an extension but I have to put my foot down now. I have new tenants who can pay the new rent, so you need to pack up your things and be out by the end of this week.

Madam Honey hangs up and covers her face with her hands.

Thomas: Oooh, and I thought it was gonna be us! Laughs. Landlord done caught up with yo bougie self. Enjoy that luxury with lil’ Skeeter.

Thomas’ phone rings.

Landlord: Thomas, you were short last month and I didn’t get a check from you this morning when I came to gather rent so this is it, I need you out by the end of the week.

Thomas: You said what?...Wait. Me?...Whatchu mean we gotta go too?

Thomas slowly hangs up the phone and looks down at his feet.

Madam Honey: I don’t like this dusty place anyways.

Thomas: Him and his nasty ass building can go to hell!

G Mama Mary: Watch your mouth Thomas…

Thomas: G Mama, you not worried about where you gone live now?

G Mama Mary: Just cause I ain’t running my mouth don’t mean I’m not worried!

Thomas: Don’t never wanna ask nobody for help, and where you at now G Mama?

64 Ronald: Watch your mouth Tommy

Thomas: I don’t know why you even talking to me right now Ronnie. You know what’s been going on. I asked you for some help, just for this month, all that money you making, can’t even help me keep my home.

Ronald: All this money I’m making? Tommy, I’m only here because of that promotion. I still don’t have enough food to eat everyday, the check barely covers me with the rent raise, and I’m supposed to give you some money just so that we can both be out by next month?

Thomas: We could have figured it out next month! Like we always do! Selfish nigga don’t know how—

G Mama Mary: Enough Thomas! Take some responsibility, your lazy ass didn’t call about not one job, this ain’t nobody fault but ours.

Honey: Ha, ya’ll so foolish! Especially you G Mama for staying with Tommy’s lousy self.

Thomas: I don’t know why you hating Honey, you gone end up sleeping right next to Skeeter old crazy ass

Honey: I would work with the white man before I spent anytime sleeping next to Skeeter!

Skeeter speaks to the neighbors and Malik.

Skeeter: You know what amazes me How’s everybody surprise to see fire Like you ain’t smell a train of smoke Sittin’ on the wind?

Like a long ways back You ain’t hear the trumpets blow Fo’ the colonizers start moving in

65 Ya stiffneck...hard of hearing Bliind and don’t seem to inner-stand

How you gon’ climb up out of poverty, If you ain’t controlling the land?

Know ya history and you’ll see This trend happens overs and overs Again, oh, cause I gots no degrees and I’m living off the breeze y’all write me off Sayin’ “he tweaked off that gin”

“Aww Skeeter man, you crazy man,” Laugh at my shoes and three pairs of pants But I ain’t the one begging for no home Of no other mans to give me no kind of chance

It’s a spell we under, each generation can’t seem to break the trance

Keep protesting for a slice of pie Knowing the devils ain’t got no friends?

Look within...pull them shoulder back and lift yo chin… Investing in each other is how we all’s gon’ win

Malik, whose been listening intently to Skeeter responds.

Malik [to Skeeter]: Yeah...yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear you.

I get what you saying. It’s like they done forgot, The plan was not to integrate but to survive. Niggas don’t even be seeing what’s going on. I feel like they done lost sight of what’s happening around them. Housing cases ‘round here is like watching a play But knowing how it’s going to play out. There’s no point.

66 Sometimes it feels as if we’re wasting energy. It seems we marking Victims in a sad power system. Check another one right?”

Gathers attention of neighbors.

But, ya know how it goes— Ain’t no monologue to explain how things should be. Or how I should think Or how they should see that Power’s a funny scheme. Make it seem so bad some can’t even tell who’s at fault here Do you know who’s at loss here?

Neighbors shrug.

They not dealing with no victim, Man, the victim is someone who got knocked down And ain’t go for the rebound Or maybe got jacked and took it laying down. What I’m trying to say is that A victim only stays the victim if you let them call you that. and I don’t speak ‘bout victims.

Thomas: You’ve been saying “you,” who is “you?” Who you talking to?

Malik: I just talk about survivors, Soldiers, fighters because they know. Can’t nobody ever take their power. I got that from somewhere though, recently I Went to a city I’m all too familiar with, spent about an hour— Talked to a man who said the same thing about power. Told me, they only take it if I allow it. So I said Bet. Been spreading word round to whoever will listen, Embrace that, don’t be hard headed and stubborn.

67 All that pain and struggle, Whatever happened to you, bet not erase that. It’s something you lived through. And whether they like it or not, they gotta face that. Now is your time to rewrite that rule, Do whatever as long as you fight back too.

Ronald: Fight? Fighting ain’t been doing us no good. Nowadays, we’re getting arrested, beaten, tased, kicked out. For that so-called ‘fightin’ you talking bout, our peoples is dying. We tired of fighting man, why can’t we just relax and chill?

Malik: I don’t think you’re getting it. Not every fight means fist meets face or gun meets tank. I’ve seen you at church every Sunday, God makes a way but we both know You ain’t always been with that Amazing Grace.

Malik speaks directly to elders.

But you fought for yourself, so why not your street? I ain’t going into specifics but Mama told me you had tunnel vision, Always looking for a way out but stuck in a tunnel right? So you know, when you fighting for that light, fight with all that you got. Because at the same time, you fighting for yo life. Now, am I wrong? Make it a motto, Even losing comes with a victory. Even. If. You. Lose. Just. Win. No matter what it comes down to. Just. Win. It’s as simple as that, what he’s been saying is serious So if you don’t mind, stop playing my nigga like he—

Malik turns and notices Skeeter is not there, looks around.

Where did that homeless man go? What you mean, you don’t know?

68 Malik walks off looking for Skeeter. Lights down.

//

Spotlight on Cici in Staying Power shirt.

Cici: When I split myself open I learned that I am a candle Shining light on the tragedies of my community Let my existence be the sage dispelling the negative energy from my city Turning bullets into basketball courts Powdered hands into a prayer stance I be the definition of Black Girl Magic Be the descendant of Richmond Voodoo queens Be the hood’s miracle baby ‘Cause no matter how ugly the skies get I have faith that the sun will rise again When I split myself open I find my grandmothers’ tongue Calling me swahili sweet My name in this tongue means all of us And I translate this to mean I am because we are I am my mamas’ hips Made like bangos Sweet like mangos I am the music of my ancestors And we sing

You gotta pray when the spirit says pray You gotta pray when the spirit says pray When the spirit says pray you gotta pray right along You gotta pray when the spirit says pray

Everyone comes out onstage in Staying Power shirts. Sakinah and Zakiyyah and other singers join in.

69 You gotta dance when the spirit says dance You gotta dance when the spirit says dance When the spirit says dance you gotta dance right along You gotta dance when the spirit says dance

And thus I am an halleluyah, amen, Ase And so it is

Sakinah and Zakiyyah: Chorus: Y P S I L A N T I Ypsilanti Ypsilanti In the city with the grizzlies and flyahs Lil community with functions and flyahs Lil community—tiny but strong Lil inklin’ but we stretch from Lincoln to the Brooke

Verse 1: Had my very first sight of u in the evergreens Found my way uptown into 2nd street Then to the city and back there on Ecorse Tyler road—rode our bikes to the Ice Cream Time Marco’s with his lil’ benches Walkin’ back home wit the finguh lickin’ And the squirrels runnin’ round like nobody business City with some business Marks the downtown But you don’t nothin’ if u don’t know bout the cow And u don’t know nothin’ if you ain’t stick around To see what the youth been doin here and around town in the

Sakinah and Zakiyyah: Chorus: Y P S I L A N T I Ypsilanti Ypsilanti In the city with the grizzlies and flyahs Lil community with functions and flyahs Lil community—tiny but strong Lil inklin’ but we stretch from Lincoln to the Brooke

70 Y P S I L A N T I Ypsilanti Ypsilanti

Like babies from the 80’s this city helped to raise me Down on 2nd street where the skunks be going crazy Momma had to do it all cause daddy was a lazy Taught me how to hold it down, be strong and be a lady It was shady, all these dark times Fighting for the long run Racing down the Huron Always kept my guard up No this ain’t no Florida But from the floor we shoot up Shooting through the roof top In Ypsi we just don’t stop

Sakinah and Zakiyyah: Chorus: Y P S I L A N T I Ypsilanti Ypsilanti In the city with the grizzlies and flyahs Lil community with functions and flyahs Lil community—tiny but strong Lil inklin’ but we stretch from Lincoln to the Brooke Y P S I L A N T I Ypsilanti Ypsilanti

Everyone take places onstage for ensemble piece.

ALL: Poet imagines still living as an act of resistance

Shane: James Baldwin said and I quote “I love America so I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually”

All: PERIOD.

71 Richmond poets: I love Richmond

Ypsi poets: I love Ypsi

All: So I insist on the right to say what I want for my city

Lu: I want home to be a place where every sexuality is supported, every race loved, every gender valid

T: I’m tryna live in a place where I don’t fear the sidewalks

Zay: Where kids are lulled to sleep by crickets and laughter

Dajone: Turning bullets into basketball courts

Monét: Powered hands into a prayer stance

Jua’Chelle: Growing hope, greens rising so high they shelter us—The vines of those yams, peppers, potatoes and squash

Shane: No more public housing, we want more public art

Kenyatta: We want a Black history mural in the Depot Town alley

Em: We want rent control and affordable housing

Marlen: A community land trust for artists of color

Rachael: A safe space for Black residents to come together

Richmond poets: This is a calling out

Ypsi poets: This is a calling in

All: This is a call to action

Sam: Newcomers, we hope you’re listening

72 Sakinah and Zakiyyah: Ypsi originals—we hope you’re feeling us

Cici: Let’s roll deep to every city council meeting

Nyree: Imagine us taking control of our land

Ann: Making our own currency

Malik: Imagine us buying the block back

Donté: Keeping the block Black

Marlen: We must preserve our culture before it’s erased

Monét: Some things don’t need to change

T: Some things should stay

Ypsi poets: So Ypsi

Richmond poets: So Richmond

Sakinah and Zakiyyah: Lil communities—tiny but strong

Lu: So country, so city,

Ann: Corn fields next to graffitied tracks

Marlen: Red brick buildings rich with history

Kenyatta: I love how when I see the bus driver he looks at me like he knows me

Em: Feels like everyone is family

Donté: Like your whole block got you

73 Shane: What must’ve happened I must’ve tapped in I started seeing visions of success because of rappin’

Dajone: Paved our own path Tired of coming last From the Willow to the Brooke,

Malik: To the Anderson’s They know my dog, they planned all this

All: These streets are all about power

Ciatta: Named after white men That once owned Black bodies

All: But now I own myself

Racahel: I am the dream of my ancestors

Lu: This legacy of love—a different kind of wealth

Nyree: They risked their lives to escape

Sam: So we could stand here today

Sakinah and Zakiyyah: Now we rename these streets

Start walking to street signs and turning them to reveal new signs with names of Black heroes from Ypsi.

Jua’Chelle: I am H.P. Jacobs

T: I am Isa Stewart

Kenyatta: I am George de Baptiste

Lu: I am Bernice Kersey

74 Monét: I be the definition of Black Girl Magic

Cici: Be the descendant of Richmond Voodoo queens

Zay: Be the hood’s miracle baby

Malik: Don’t correct me, I speak Black

Richmond poets: I’m tryna make a way for all my people

Ypsi poets: A victim only stays the victim if you let them call you that

Donté: Pull them shoulder back and lift yo chin Investing in each other is how we all’s gon’ win

All: Change gon’ come, oh yes it will

Anne: For we are the ones

T: Our city is filled to the brim with ancestral magic

Monét: Can’t you see that glow on us

Rachael: A star that will not die

Monét: A moon full of herself, too fly

Sam: We come from a people too ocean to drown

Zay: Too earthy to be buried

Jua’Chelle: Too much of our mamas to back down

Em: Hear us, and hear us now

Sakinah and Zakiyyah: Our city is not for the taking

75 Ciatta: They dared to raise prices over our bones, Wanted to break us open

Rachael: We are pavement

All: Concrete, not wood

Nyree: We still graceful

All: We stay breathin’ and living as an act of resistance

Dajone: They say jump and we don’t move a muscle,

Ciatta: Which is to say

Richmond poets: That we are here to stay

Ypsi poets: And ain’t plannin’ on going nowhere

All: We spill into the street

And call it

Ours.

76 //

77 About the Artists YPSI ARTISTS

MONET MADOULA-BEY

I’m Monét Madoula-Bey, a young Black poet inspiring and speaking up in the community.

Staying Power is a platform for arts that I use to spread light on many issues in the community.

78 RACHAEL SOMERS

Hi. My name is Rachael. Art lets me express myself while appreciating the different experiences and beautiful elements of life that people often times forget about. I like how revealing these truths can empower myself and others around me in an interesting and immersive way.

Staying Power has taught me about the value within my city that I never before would’ve known was worth fighting for. We use our arts to express our experiences and what we see happening around us. Through learning about one another and seeing how this city hurts us, helps us, and breaks up our communities, we empower ourselves.

79 LU ALLEN

My name is Lu, I’m 16, and I’m a poet. I focus my poetry on topics people are too uncomfortable to listen to and/or talk about.

Staying Power to me is a movement filled with people that are determined to make a difference and raise awareness about gentrification and other issues within Ypsilanti. It’s important and amazing because we’re helping other people realize what’s going on in their city.

80 EM FISHER

My name is Em Fisher and I am a senior at WIHI. I create poetry to start conversations and inspire change. Through my poems, I try to support all marginalized groups and highlight issues happening related to social justice. I create art to encourage others to fight back.

This project is important to me because it reaches people and teaches them about real problems happening in our city. I hope this project can inspire others to become educated about housing injustices and racism within our community. I hope everyone can listen with an open mind and be willing to have conversations.

81 JUA’CHELLE HARMON

My name is Jua’Chelle, she/her/hers pronouns. I am currently a senior at WIHI. I am a poet, somewhat of a singer and I like to call myself an influencer of many aspects because of my passion for making a change not only in my community but especially in my community.

Staying Power is not only a poetry group but it is a safe, inclusive space where I can express my values and my opinions about the city where I reside. I hope people become more knowledgeable about the social construct of Ypsi through this group.

82 MALIK HENRY

I’m a black artist making black art, developing dope thingz with my colleagues. I like making dope things.

Staying Power is a strong collective of youth minds that is shooting for change where others aren’t and focusing on housing issues and tryna challenge gentrification.

83 CIATTA TUCKER

my name is ciatta tucker, I’m a 17 senior in high school. i am a slam poet and a black creative. my work centers around blackness, social justice, and the world around me.

to me staying power is more like a movement and community of like minded youth who want to make a change in their neighborhoods. it’s important to me because before, i felt like i didn’t have a group of people to relate to when it comes to housing justice and other social justice topics.

84 SHANE COLLINS

I am a poet, rapper, singer (kinda), future playwright, and actor. I want my words, my art, my voice to make change for me, and whoever has helped me get to this point. Stay blessed.

Staying Power is vital in my life. I quietly didn’t recognize the gentrification happening in my neighborhood. My friends that I spent near a decade with had to leave because the rent got too high. No one else is going to make the change we need to, so we gotta do it ourselves, however we can.

85 ASHANTI KENYATTA CAMPBELL

I’m Ashanti Campbell and I’m a writer, I write poems, music, plays and more. I would like my writing to make change in my community as well as communities around me.

In order to fix a problem like gentrification both the victims and beneficiaries must first acknowledge the problem. By notifying people on this problem staying power acts at the first step to change the problem.

86 TIYERA HALL

I am a poet. When I first started writing I learned that I could take my point of view, and let people feel what it’s like to walk a mile in my shoes. My art is about many different subjects all based around my observations and personal experiences. My writing is mostly for young women, but I do have at least one piece for everyone!

To me Staying Power is important because it forces the community to see things that are usually ignored. Using our talents and creativity we can make these facts stand out from the traditional statistics. I hope that Staying Power will begin to open the eyes of people in our community, and let them see the problems that we call out.

87 AIN’T AFRAID

We’re from Maryland but Michigan Raised and together we are “Aint Afraid” ( Aka The Twinsz Aka Straingth And Wizdumb). We have Inspired, encouraged, and taught so many youth and young leaders through song, poetry, and other artistic outlets in theatre and communications. We have collaborated with many adults & political leaders in our communities and continuously engage the arts within activism about causes we are passionate about - Such As: Gentrification, Housing Displacement, Housing insecurity, At Risk Youth, Gun Violence, Health Care, Education, Race, Challenging Muslim Narratives, And Other Humanitarian Issues.

88 DAJONE BENON

I’m a poetry writer for Staying Power. I was inspired to start writing after seeing the twins and Donté perform at my school. When I write I aim for my audience to feel, whether it’s goosebumps from how powerful I read it or how real it is to relate to.

Staying Power is important because it’s a group of youth who have talent to speak on their messages. Hoping it will leave a powerful impact on our community.

89 RICHMOND ARTISTS

ANN GUIAM

My name is Ann Gillian Guiam, 18, I’m currently a college student and a fellow at RYSE. I’m a Filipina, born and raised in the Philippines. Came in the Bay Area at the age of 7. I’m currently in a process of putting together poetry/ storytelling pieces for a book.

90 ISAIAH “ZAY” GRANT

I am a videographer based out of Richmond CA, and have been a RYSE member since May 2014. Through RYSE, I’ve been able to create music videos, short films, and provide video work for many community events. Because of my dedication to arts and artistic expression, I’ve been seeing the world with a new sense of creativity, from fashion to color styles and composition. I use the tools I’ve learned to shape the world around me.

To me Staying Power means you have more of an impact on your community when you are united with one another.

91 MARLEN GONZALEZ

I’ve always had trouble expressing myself verbally and sometimes, when someone asks or tells me something my mind scrambles my sentences up and I start to panic. My art shows a really big part of myself that not many people know about; my close friends didn’t even know about it until recently. I feel a huge sense of freedom and relief when I can just spill my thoughts on to a page with a pencil or a canvas with paint.

Staying Power means that no matter where the people are the power goes to them. Like the people are the ones who will be affected, who will have to live through the tough days of struggle so they should be given the power to change that and keep that power with them wherever they go. Whether it’s through speech, art, music or any other form of expression for the people need to keep their power.

92 NYREE MCDANIELS

I am a multimedia artist who’s been making art for years. My inspiration has been childhood books and movies. My dream is to teach children about culture from different countries and eventually make an educational theme park.

Staying Power is an everlasting power held together with the energy of family.

93 ABOUT NEUTRAL ZONE

The Neutral Zone is a diverse, youth-driven teen center dedicated to promoting personal growth through artistic expression, community leadership and the exchange of ideas. In 1998, a group of Ann Arbor teens gathered to discuss the need for a place where teens could congregate after school and on weekends. From the very beginning, they felt this place should be more than just a hangout; that is could be a safe place to make new friends, mix with youth from different backgrounds, explore new ideas, learn new skills and do it all in a setting that was teen friendly and teen driven. Teens wrote the mission statement and the first grant proposal to the Ann Arbor Area Community Foundation and, with seed money in hand, enlisted parents and friends to turn an old brick and timber warehouse into a teen center.

It’s been years since that original group of teens realized their dream and they have moved on with their lives. Their legacy lives on, however, in the Neutral Zone’s mission statement. Today, in addition to drop-in and free tutoring after school, the Neutral Zone offers more than 20 programs in the areas of Education, Literary Arts, Community Leadership, Music and the Visual Arts. However, the Neutral Zone is just not a place. It is the sum total of all of the teens who come through its doors. Their energy, creativity, passion and ideas, shape and direct our programs and activities.

94 ABOUT RED BEARD PRESS

Red Beard Press was created in honor of Spencer Miles Kimball, a member of the literary arts community who was lost too soon. We are an independent, youth-driven publishing company dedicated to creating cutting-edge literary arts projects, publishing emerging voices, and inspiring passionate literary communities. We are the newest venture by Ann Arbor’s teen center The Neutral Zone, under its Youth-Owned Enterprises. The teens who comprise Red Beard solicit submissions from authors, select a handful of writers to publish, design and create 2-4 books a year, market and distribute the books, as well as run literary events and readings to showcase their authors. We are a wildly ambitious group of teens who believe we can improve literacy rates by introducing writers we love and books we create to our peers. Call us idealistic, but we believe in the power of words and stories, and we strive to have the voices of our generation heard.

95 ABOUT OZONE HOUSE

Ozone House is a community-based, nonprofit agency that helps young people lead safe, healthy, and productive lives through intensive intervention and prevention services. Since 1969, Ozone House has actively developed unique, high-quality housing and support programs and services that provide support, intervention, training, and assistance to runaway, homeless, and high-risk youth and their families. For more on Ozone House, visit https:// ozonehouse.org/.

ABOUT RYSE CENTER

RYSE creates safe spaces grounded in social justice for young people to love, learn, educate, heal, and transform lives and communities. Many young people in Richmond navigate their daily lives with an unfair level of unpredictability, disrupting their desire and need for connection and community.. We envision a community that inspires youth to live with pride and purpose, where the sounds of gunshots have been replaced by the sounds of organizing, song, collaboration, laughter, and learning. In everything we do, we work to ensure RYSE remains a consistent sanctuary of safety, compassion, and justice for all youth. For more info on RYSE, visit https://rysecenter.org/.

96 ABOUT STAYING POWER

Staying Power started out as a collective of dedicated Richmond, CA residents that wanted to focus on the causes and harms of gentrification. These efforts led Richmond youth to create a production on gentrification and the tools to solving it titled “Youthtopia: In the Face of Gentrification.” The partnership with Neutral Zone is one of their latest endeavors. For more on the Staying Power Project, visit:https://haasinstitute.berkeley.edu/ about-staying-power-project.

97 98 ALSO PUBLISHED BY RED BEARD PRESS

Amongst Werewolves // poems by Brittany Floyd Bad Words // poems by RAW Talent BlackGirl Mansion // poems by Angel Nafis Bodies, Bodies, Bodies, Bodies, Bodies // poems by Gahl Liberzon Bull-Gouging the Matador // poems by Shira Erlichman and Patricia Smith Electric Bite Women // poems by Carlina Duan and Haley Patail Feral Citizens // poems by Fiona Chamness and Aimée Le I Name This Body MINE // poems by Aldo Pando Girard, Lilly Kujawski, and Anika Love Jangle the Threads // poems by Aracelis Girmay, Scott Beal, and Rachel McKibbens Knock on Sky, volumes I, II, and III // fiction and poetry from the Neutral Zone Literary Arts Programs Po’ Boys Kitchen // a play by RAW Talent Pure Volume // poems by Coert Ambrosino, Molly Raynor, and Adam Falkner Self Portraits, Mixed Media // poems by Aldo Leopoldo Pando Girard Te’s Harmony // a play by RAW Talent The Plural, The Blurring // poems by H. Melt There Will Still Be the Body // poems by Zaphra Stupple Uncommon Core // an anthology of poems by various writers Watch Me Swing // poems by Martin Espada and Samantha Thornhill You don’t scare me // poems by Lauren Banka You Owe Me This // poems and prose by Spencer Miles Kimball

99