In an introductory essay Ms. Smith was asked to write for a book of Billie Holiday photos, she channels the voice of Lady Day, adopting an imagined second-person memoir style and drawing deftly on the jazz legend’s autobiography. The result is a heartbreaking, haunting homage. At the end of it, Ms. Smith has Billie Holiday, who didn’t read music, contemplating telling a “sneaky” reporter, “Mother—, I am music.”
… Five minutes after you declare partnered men off-limits, you get a Facebook Friend Request and a “you crossed my mind and…” message from a boy — now a married man — who you had a crush on and fooled around with 30 years ago.
“August fought for the right of African-Americans to tell their own stories,” says Wilson’s widow, Constanza Romero. “Troy Maxson’s dream was squelched by having to fight racism, segregation and incarceration. His story is as prescient today as it was then.”
Fences is the first of Wilson’s plays to be brought to the big screen, a delay due at least in part to Wilson’s insistence on a Black director for film versions of his work. Oscar winner Denzel Washington, who directs and stars in the movie, has granted Wilson’s wish nearly 30 years after Fences debuted on Broadway.
True or False: I am one of millions of white women saying ignorant, racist shit to Black women every day, and on a given day, I may be one of several white people who have worked a particular Black woman’s last fucking nerve with my ignorance.