Just Press Playhouse- I Am Who I Am, Free or Not
Description: Our two creators Orlando Segarra and Gabe Templin, long time friends, were discussing creative options over a nice cold pint in a local bar in Astoria, Queens. A tangent took them to talking about Radio Dramas and how engaging they were. This led to wondering about what scripts could be adapted to make a fun modern version, but also how to incorporate a contemporary lens addressing issues of today. Through that conversation Just Press Playhouse (JPP) was born. JPP has strived to include the amazingly talented people, Orlando and Gabe were surrounded by. As the company continues to mature they remain committed to using friends around them both old and new. The goal that Just Press Playhouse continues to strive for is to tell compelling interesting stories, that have a social conscience to them, but also remain accessible to a wide audience. We want to encourage imagination and foster community.
Listen to their showcase episode and read the transcript on our website: https://podtales.org/just-press-playhouse
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Transcript
I am who I am
skin as rich as café
I am who I am
Skin like speckles of gold
My skin comes
in so many phases
it drinks the sun up
for maintenance
I shimmer under
The moonlight
I can hear
Mother Nature
Roar
I see your fists in the air
with the purpose of protest
talking that talk
Though I can still see
What really lies in your heart
Wasn’t today suppose to be the day,
We finally become free ?
or will that be tomorrow ?
the day after that ?
Will it ever come?
Would you like
To tell me what it’s like ?
To carry freedom on your back
Instead of scrutiny and false tales
Of yourself
I wonder what its suppose to feel
like
When we finally
Don’t have to pull the bullets
Out of our ancestors back
As show and tell
As a reminder
That this isn’t the first time
You stole the soul
Out of my lineage,
And tried to sell it back
To me like one of your own
Like music
Like culture
Like box braids
On a hot summer day.
Can you not continuously
Invalidate the lives
That matter ?!
I’m wondering
how do you cleanse
The blood on your hands
Every night ?
Your body count rising
And it ain’t looking like a good
thing
Should I believe that you finally
Decided to address
The elephant in the room ?
I mean how could you ?
You don’t ever have to feel the
heaviness of that
I mean you don’t have to
For sure
White privilege
Got you
With your hands clasped behind your
back
Pretending not to see
What you see
Staring at you
Straight in the face
The bodies
Laid to rest
Upon your request
I’m here to let you know
Our ancestors got a bone to pick with
you
You got a lot of unlearning to do
You got a lot of reparations
To distribute
You should start by wiping
The audacity off your lips
If you say one more thing about
All lives matter
Or maybe you should
start by
Waxing off
The subliminal hidden context
Hidden in the lies
Of this American Script
You so proudly
Reread
Like I don’t know
You sang that same song
When my people
Came here shackled and chained
Forced them to forfeit freedom
To produce
This “land of the free”
For who?
For you ?!
Look I’m angry
I said I’m fuming
Granted
I still find joy
In who I am
Who I came here to be
Like it or not
I’ll find freedom
Even if I have to snatch
It right off of your fingertips
I am who I am
And I wear it well
My skin
still remains
Because the only thing you can’t
really take from me
Is the very thing you hate me for.
Even if you
burn me
lynch me
bury me alive
My skin will be my skin
