I am currently working on a screenplay about a man who is a serial killer but he is unaware of it. He is a journalist and he writes about these murders before they are revealed to the public. After he is cleared from suspicion a detective asks him to help him with the investigstion thinking he is psycic until the truth unwinds itself bringing everyone to reevaluate their standings.
“What Does Color Prove Anyway?”
Written in the perspective of Marian Anderson
I have freedom, but no equality.
I have rights, but no immunity.
What is one without the other?
I was always told to stay out of their way,
or I will get what a black women like me deserves.
Why should I be treated in this fashion because of my color?
What does color prove anyway?
Nothing.
I might not exist to them, but what about my talent? Shouldn’t that receive some recognition?
Even, if my color is frowned upon?
No.
I am just a stone on the side of the road, to be kicked aside.
A flower, rejected because of its blush.
But inside this wounded, leaned soul there is someone.
I have known it.
Someone that is willing to fight;
and take her proper place in life.
I am a bird, trapped longing to sprout its wings.
A dolphin ambuscaded by acidic, algid water;
struggling for survival.
A lion only wanted for its hide and ignored of its true exquisiteness within.
Because, humans are animals,
I am a human caught amidst light and dark skins, yet hated by another kind.
But I am also that same bird,
who will find a way to sprout its wings.
And I am also that same dolphin who would sacrifice herself,
before having another face the same fate as I.
I am that same lion whose exquisiteness would be recognized and its hide protected.
I am Marian Anderson a talented, opera singer who did not receive equal opportunities in life for the wrong reason; because I am Black.
But I struggled, fought and I pushed to receive as much of a life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness my black skin would allow me.
Hoping, always hoping that my presence and moderate success in this world will make someone else’s climb a little more meaningful and symbolic.
If I could do it, then there is no reason why you cannot.
What does color prove anyway?
Nothing.