The Death of Bessie Smith

We had one black girl in the company
Just one

And I was the one

And back then
They used to get comments about me

When they'd give her a role
That wasn't initially intended for a black actress

I didn't care
I was just happy to be working
And I was a hard worker
Showed up and did my job
Did a damn good job

Remember this was a small town

I mean, not backwoods Florida or anything
We're still talking New England here
Not that it mattered much in 1964

Oh, and Beau, our Artistic Director
Was so happy that he had a colored girl
In the company

He was what my father would call
A one-step liberal

You know, those people who take one step over the line
And then yell about it
To anybody who'll listen

Look at me!  I'm a step over the line!

But they don't go any further than that

That was Beau

He liked yelling and hollering
About how radical he was
But the truth is
Raise a fist to him
Or threaten him with jail
And he'd curl up in a ball
And wait for somebody to tuck him in

I had a wicked sense of humor back then

When Beau's fiance, wife, whatever
Gave birth to their son
In a field
Where we were doing Orpheus Descending
There weren't any doctors around
And Beau looked at me
To see if I knew what to do

Without skipping a beat
I said--'I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' babies, Mr. Beau'
And even in that situation
As tense as it was
Everybody just had to laugh

The last show of the season
Was done in this makeshift blackbox
That we made for ourselves
Above this bar downtown

We were doing The Death of Bessie Smith
And I started bringing around this man
My husband
Who wanted to be an actor too
Wanted it like you can't believe

I thought maybe Beau would give him a chance
Yelling liberal that he was
But it turned out Beau thought hiring him
Would be taking one step too many
Over that line

We were already getting complaints from audience members
About me playing this role and that
And there weren't that many black roles to go around
So what on earth was he going to give to my husband?

Of course, Beau didn't say it like that
He just said there wasn't any money
And there wasn't
But there never is in theater
And somehow things still get done

But anyway, Beau said, No, he wasn't going to hire him
And that was that

I didn't fight him on the issue
Because I didn't have to

I have my mother's eyes
And when my mother was mad at you
It was like Christ himself
Was staring back at you
All the time
Pumping all this guilt
Right into your heart

We finished Bessie Smith
The show we were doing
And Beau was mad at me
Because not only was I mad at him
Making him feel bad
But he'd just done what he thought was this revolutionary production
Of this play about race

And I went up to him
When it was all finished
And I said--

'All you are is a white man who did a show for white people telling them how tolerant they are.'

This was at the cast party
We were all drunk
But that sobered everybody up right away

Beau started to say something
But I cut him off
I said--

'All you are is a white man'

And I kept right on saying it--

'All you are is a white man who does shows.  That's all they are.  Shows.'

Then I took off

And when I got home...

And I got home
I found my husband
Hanging from the ceiling fan

After that, I just...showed up
I wasn't much of an actress
But nobody blamed me

And Beau kept feeling guilty
So guilty
That he employed me
Well past my prime
And so did every other Artistic Director
The theater had
Until I retired
In the early eighties

Guilt is strong, you know
And it lasts
And it lasts

Thinking back on it
If I wanna be fair
And I don't often want to be fair
Even though I'm dead

Thinking back on it
My husband probably would have killed himself anyway

He was always moody
And depressed

Nowadays they would have diagnosed him with something
But back then...

Even if Beau put him in the company
It might still have happened
But Beau didn't see it that way
And God knows
At the time
I didn't either

Me and Beau were always contentious with each other
But in this creative sort of way

After that day at the bar
And me going home to what I went home to
We were civil

Civil--and that was it

But he still found at least one good role for me
Once a season
And that wasn't nothing
Not when most of the others
Were playing nobody after nobody

Shitty roles
And that was IF you stayed in the company

A lot of people got fired
Once we got our space and--

Well, that's all water under the bridge now

Because we're celebrating, aren't we?

Fifty years of the theater
My goodness

The place must be completely different now

Even after I left
I still went to see shows there
Right up until I died
In the early nineties

Change, change, change
Everything changes

Tell me something

How many black girls do they have in the company now?

Still just one, huh?

Well, maybe things don't change that much
After all