On Sugarland: An excerpt and annotation

Abstract

66 leshea harris’s plays often explore the intricacies of relationships between women. Audiences come to understand the nuances of each character’s personality by observing her in conversation with other women, from mothers and sisters to rivals and mentors. On the page, characters’ affects are also illustrated by Harris’s use of innovative typography; an admonishment might be rendered in large typeface, while a whispered admission might waft down the page in tiny letters. Her new play, On Sugarland, excavates an intergenerational relationship between preadolescent Sadie and her aunt, Odella. For this special issue, we asked Harris to share snippets from the work, annotated with her thoughts on character formation, scene setting, and typographical experimentation. —the editors A On Sugarland An excerpt and annotation Aleshea Harris play 67 excerpt one (A young girl speaks assuredly to herself.) sadie I can make the dead walk.† I can. I can. I can make ’em put theyself back together and remember how to use their muscles and all. I can make ’em take new air into their lungs like it ain’t nothin But I ain’t finna tell nobody how naw What I look like giving out my gifts? I can make the dead walk and I got invisibility O yes Don’t nobody do invisibility like us, huh? Girls like us, we got it down, huh? We kinda like the wind you know we kinda like a shadow you know † I love to begin a work with a juicy image, something strange and suspenseful. This little girl telling us right off the bat that she can do the seemingly impossible should feel like a jolt. we got a frequency other folk can’t pick up on† but we can pick up on each other’s frequency through time, over time, under time our frequencies ain’t stuttin no time can’t nothin stop ’em Nothin I got Great Great Great Gran’s frequency running all through me even though she lived a long time ago Here go her frequency right here in my arm You see it? Here it go in my chest‡ You see it? Sheeid I’m tryna tell you Great Great Great Gran lived on a farm in Civil War times Her mama and daddy were long gone so she had to take care of her little brother and a little sister She wasn’t a slave, technically She had been freed but still had to work for next to nothing and they were all starving so she figured out she could carry messages to the Union soldiers and they’d give her food And didn’t nobody suspect a little black girl † The typography here is sturdy and steady, like a train moving quickly, its boxcars in a row. Sadie doesn’t have time to dilly-dally. The “frequency” moving through her body seems to compel her to speak quickly, too. Like a bullet through a gun, we move. ‡ This line about seeing the frequency in her arm and chest reminds me of a line from Sojourner Truth’s “Ain’t I a Woman” speech, which I once performed in a play. It strikes me that a speech delivered so long ago by Sojourner Truth shows up in some small way in Sadie’s speech here. This transference echoes the effort of Sadie’s monologue to capture the pulse of unnameable energy shared by Black girls and women generations, decades, continents apart. It ain’t stuttin no time! 68 | ALESHEA HARRIS ON SUGARLAND | 69 you know we invisible† you know Didn’t nobody suspect a little black girl was carrying messages. So she told them what she knew and the soldiers gave her hard tack and cheese or whatever they had. So she got her belly full and they got to know when there was whispers of cracker-jack Rebel soldiers taking over people’s drawing rooms and shit. One day, though One day Great Great Great Gran’s headed back from passing along messages Feelin all grown and stuff And she’s got a sack over her shoulder filled with bread and possum meat and maybe even an egg or two so she really feelin...