Malcolm, My Son

Abstract

Cast Amina. African American woman. Late 30s, early 40s. A single head of household. Her son has been away at college. She is an aged militant who has been worn but not defeated by dealing with the necessities of daily life. Malcolm. A 21-year-old African American male. Amina's son. Intelligent but emotionally troubled. Ambivalent about his father and their non-relationship. Growing into what is supposed to be his transition to manhood and grappling with how to successfully actualize this struggle. Production Notes The male actor should be gay & proud (i.e, out of the closet) and should not be a heterosexual actor pretending to be gay. If professional lighting is available, each time the characters cut to re-begin the confrontation, the lights should get slightly brighter until they are full up after the last cut. Because the is in verse, the actors should be directed to bring as much emotional resonance to their voicings as possible; that is, they don't have to play like. this is a naturalistic confrontation. The actors should employ a great deal of body English and movement in the delivery of their lines. The is to be done as an encounter between the audience and the actors as well as an encounter between a mother and her son. It is important that the actors be responsive to the audience and, when they address the audience, that they actually engage individuals in the audience rather than simply looking at or speaking in the direction of the audience. (When the lights come up, Amina and Malcolm are facing each other, a chair between them, neither one moving. A second chair is off to stage rear, left.) Malcolm (Softly, tentatively) Hello. Amina Hello. Is that what you say? (She wants to move to him, but does not.) What will you tell me this gray afternoon? What marks are on your chest? What spear has been thrust into your side? What do you have to show? What do you have to hide? What light shines in your eyes? What shame do you deny? And what will you expect of me this moment? Should I hold you? Is there any embrace that can hold you? Should I just kiss you lightly on the cheek? A quick peck perhaps, something that will not keep You anchored to me? Or maybe even a gigantic hug? Or should I just wait quietly and see? What you are, what you have become? What you And what the world have made of my son? Malcolm Hello, But not like before. Today I have come to leave you forever. Though I will still be your child, I have come to announce that now I am me, And just me being me will hurt you, Not that I want to hurt you Or hurt me. It's just when children become adults Parents are sometimes hurt. Hello. But never again like before. Amina How was it before? Malcolm Remember when I came running in the kitchen My hand dripping blood? I had smashed my finger With a rock when I was trying to bust a marble On the sidewalk and the whole tip Of my finger was loose and hanging... Remember? Amina How can I forget? How can I not remember seeing the redness Of your blood falling everywhere and My own efforts not to panic, and My not knowing what to do And wrapping your hand in a towel And driving like crazy to the hospital And watching them sew your finger Back together? How can I forget? Malcolm (He holds up his hand as she talks. When she finishes, he points his forefinger to her and she reaches out her forefinger. They touch over the chair. Just fingertips. And they laugh, the chair between them.) Hello. Amina (Drops her hand, steps back.) You don't remember when you were conceived? No, of course not. How could you? How could you remember that night Or those many mornings after? How can a child remember what the mother Will never forget? Malcolm (He smiles for the first time. Chuckles. …