Michael from "Amateurs"

The worst part is, you get excited.  You hear about somebody doing A Raisin in the Sun or Fences or The Wiz, even, and you get excited, because you think—Ohhhh—something for me.  And you only think that—and you only get excited—when it’s like—when somebody’s going to be backed into a corner about it, you get what I’m saying?  When you know they’re not going to have a choice.  Because when they have a choice—they choose the white guy.  Nobody wants to say that.  But it’s true.  Before they’ll take a chance, before they’ll re-imagine something, before they’ll worry about what their show looks like, they’ll cast the white guy.  Except when they can’t.  And so when they can’t, you get all excited about it, and then you get mad at yourself for getting all excited, because you know that the next show—the very next show—is going to be The Importance of Being Earnest or All My Sons or Cat on a Hot Tin Roof—I mean, think about it, when was the last time you saw somebody do The Piano Lesson followed by Topdog/Underdog or Ruined?  You don’t.  You don’t see that.  Because two black shows in a row and you’re the black theater.  And nobody wants to be the black theater—Hell, even black theaters don’t want to be the black theater.  Now, does anybody want to be the White Theater?  No.  But that doesn’t mean they want to be the Black Theater either.  And thinking you have a choice in the matter—that you can be the Diverse Theater of Many Colors That Loves and Accepts Everybody is stupid.  Maybe one day—but not today.  Not today.  Today there isn’t a White Theater on this planet that would want to be a Black Theater instead.  That’s just the truth.  I mean—that’s how I feel.  It’s true to me, you know?  That’s as true as I get.