Sounds Of Blackness

A one-act-play

The play opens with our hero, a dashing Black man of a certain age, running on a high school track. As our hero lopes along with the taut, silky, grace of a jungle cat he approaches another Black man standing on the edge of the field. This man, also of a certain age, is coaching a group of young track athletes. Catching each others eye, they exchange words

Our hero-Morning coach

Coach-Morning bruh, how you feeling?

Our hero-Trying to be you like, young and vital

Coach-HAHAHAH MAN! I’m bout to be 51 and I’m feeling every inch of it

Our Hero-Well I’m 52 and you see what I’m doing….

Coach-HAH-running-hahah

Our hero-I’m either running to it, or from it……

End Scene with s shot of our hero’s back as he runs up the track

Everyday across America a scene like this plays out. Two people, complete strangers except for the melanin content of their skin, speak to and with each other with such a sense of ease and familiarity that someone with a lesser melanin count would think that they are close friends. Or related.

Chances are, they’re not. But, they are.

Their actions with each other seemed familar, because they were. To them. They were communicating with each in a way that people with their melanin content have been doing for literally hundreds of years. Just like their grandfathers, fathers, uncles and others did before them. They felt a kinship that can’t be faked. One built, again, over centuries. A kinship that can be needed, vital, comforting, and sometimes vexing.

I believe it was that noted philospher Nino Brown who once said, “We all we got”. He also said “If I was you I would be counting the pimples on the booty”, but that’s a different story.

Sometimes it can indeed feel like we all we got. Other times, it’s just nice to spend a few seconds laughing with someone who gets your story because theirs is the same as yours. And that’s reason number 976 that I love about being one of the deeply melaninated.

CMB…..we all we got