“Perseverance through struggle that becomes love”
– Kai Knight, director and choreographer on what “for colored girls” embodies
I am both a dancer and a writer; the two mediums seemingly conflict with each other as the dancer’s instrument is their body while the writer’s instruments are their words, so you can imagine my struggle in putting “for colored girls who have considered suicide / when the rainbow is enuf” into words that satisfy my ‘dancer brain.’ Having the pleasure of taking dance classes with Mama Kai, the director and choreographer of the play, I could both recognize and feel her spirit on that stage upon the first note of music. Each cast member’s movement within the first couple minutes of the play embodied the passion, vulnerability, and general stage presence that made this play so raw and authentic. Mama Kai always tells me in class to ‘let go,’ and I think I understood precisely what she meant when watching the dancers put their entire soul into their movement.
Naturally, I came into the show with my own biases expecting it to be a heavy & dark social commentary on black women’s experiences in urban settings navigating both womanhood and racism in the 1970s. Mama Kai herself admitted prior to my first watch that “the play is hard.” Concise as always. Although the play did encompass all of those themes eloquently and unabashedly, there was an air of girlhood, silliness, and sisterhood that felt so familiar to me. I too have been at a sleepover in which the agenda is to debrief all the gorey details, or what that bummy guy did to us that one time, or singing and dancing together, and more broadly revealing intimate secrets to each other that are only to be shared among close friends. The key difference is that this time it was set on a stage for an audience to witness.
The organic bonds between the women on that stage in what Mama Kai called ‘sister circles’ created an intimate atmosphere that made me feel like I was sitting on that couch with them. This intimacy created a kind of relationship between the women on stage and the audience. In a packed Marquette Theatre on closing night of the production, women of all ages in the audience were snapping at punchy one liners, or sharing a knowing giggle after a discussion about inept husbands and late nights after graduation. I think all of our hearts broke when the lady in red tearfully uttered, “I loved you on purpose” followed by “I can’t use another sorry” during their “keep your sorry” monologue. The series of monologues by the different women throughout the play was an anthem for tired, fed up women everywhere, and we felt their sentiments in our bones. The gripping journey of this play left no emotion unfelt; even if a woman was at her lowest after having experienced something so horrific I’m currently getting chills remembering now, they had each other. There is something so cathartic about being honest and open in the hurt. Something so painfully hopeful about crying together for and with each other. “for colored girls” showcases that moving through grief is not an isolated experience, and healing requires nurturing.
My sorry white tears will never come close to fully grasping the reality of these experiences that absolutely extend past a school play, but that is why good art is so important. It makes us feel and feel and feel. It gives a voice to those who need it, and provides curious listeners with a platform to sit up and lean right in.
So yes, I liked the play.
