SOUND/LIGHT. A prison meeting room. El Paso, Texas. 2019. Two doors. A large mirrored observation window. A water cooler with paper cups. Two people stand facing one another, a heavy metal table between them. GLORIA is an African-American woman in her 40s. Intelligent. Warm. Modestly dressed. Her bag full of research materials sits on the table. RICK is a white man in his 40s. He wears an orange prison jumpsuit and absently rubs his wrists. GLORIA holds a small digital tape recorder in her hand.
GLORIA: You mind, you mind if I record? Iāll also take notes but this allows me to be accurate.
RICK: I imagine weāre both being recorded right now.
GLORIA: Really?
RICK glances at observation window.
RICK: And watched.
GLORIA: I think thatās supposed to be for my safety.
RICK: Or mine.
GLORIA: You think Iām a threat?
RICK: Are you? (Beat.) Kinda weird, when you think about it. They donāt want me to kill myself so they can kill me.
SOUNDS of prison buzzer and cell doors closing. GLORIA glances nervously towards the door.
RICK: You worried about your safety?
SHE studies him a moment.
GLORIA: No.
RICK: But youāre nervous?
GLORIA: Sure.
RICK nods approvingly. As he gets a drink of water from the cooler ā
RICK: I like that. That youāre honest. That stood out in your letters. Itās why I picked you.
GLORIA: I think if weāre not honest, whatās the point?
RICK: (Nodding.) I havenāt met a lot of college professors before. Lawyers, yeah. Shrinks. But ā you donāt look like what I thought.
GLORIA: How is that? You mean Black.
RICK: Iām not allowed computer access so I couldnāt look you up. I donāt know what they think Iām going to do with a computer, you know, reach out to my huge fan base and incite a ā
GLORIA: Is my race a problem for you?
RICK: I never know what word to use. Black. African-American.
GLORIA: I like Black. Is it a problem, Rick?
RICK: I was just surprised. It doesnāt matter to me; Iām not racist. Iāve lived and worked with all kinds of people.
GLORIA: Hispanic?
RICK: In Texas, are you kidding? You could throw a rock in any direction and youād hit one. (Beat.) Unfortunate expression there.
GLORIA: Muslim?
RICK: Sure.
GLORIA: You have Muslim friends?
RICK: I knew some but those people, they kinda stick together, you know.
GLORIA: But you had no personal animus against Muslims and Hispanics.
RICK: Personal what?
GLORIA: āAnimus.ā Hostility?
RICK: Iām just messinā with you, professor. For a country boy, my vocabulary is less limited than you might think.
GLORIA: Uh-huh. And the answer to my question, do you have any prejudice towards Muslims and or Hispanics?
RICK: No maāam.
GLORIA: And yet here you are.
RICK: Look, Iām not crazy; it was the situation. There was enormous pressure from the Brass and stuff just ā
GLORIA: Rick, if you insist on repeating the same bullshit your lawyer gave the court then I am going to walk out of here and never come back. On the other hand, if you want to talk to me, one person to another, really talk to me about what happened and why, maybe help us all understand so that nobody else finds themselves in your situation, then we can do that. But you have to be honest with me. Can you do that? Can you just be honest?
A moment. GLORIA shrugs and starts to pack her things.
RICK: Hold on.
GLORIA: Iām not here to play.
RICK: I donāt want to mess this up, alright, but thereās ā thereās a lot ridinā on this thing.
GLORIA stops and consider him.
GLORIA: I agree. Thatās why Iām here, because I want to hear your side, Rick, in your own words.
RICK: Yeah?
GLORIA: If youāre honest with me, Iāll see that what you say is printed just like you say it. No filter. No editing. Your words.
Loud prison SOUNDS.
GLORIA: They havenāt given us a lot of time, Rick. And I donāt honestly know if theyāll let me come back after today.
RICK: I donāt, I donāt have anybody to talk to in here. My lawyer, but thatās not really, you knowā¦.
GLORIA: Family?
A moment. RICK shrugs.
GLORIA: Why are you in solitary?
RICK: āFor my own protection.ā
GLORIA: You sound skeptical.
RICK: My experience has been in certain situations people tend to act in their own interests.
GLORIA: Thereās value in your death?
RICK: The government certainly seems to think so.
GLORIA: Thereās been no decision yet regarding your sentence.
RICK: If you believe that, youāre not nearly as smart as you think you are. (Quietly.)
I saw things. I know stuff that would make a lot of people look bad. We all know how this plays out. And thereās not gonna be any last minute Sheriff Arpaio pardon here.
GLORIA moves to the table and begins pulling out her research materials.
GLORIA: Thatās why itās important we talk now. That the true story gets told now before people out there change it into something else. Distort it. Revise it.
RICK: And why are you here, professor? Out of your Ivory Tower. Youāre what, performing a social service? No thought for yourself?
GLORIA: Well, to be completely honest, on the nine hour drive down here today in my antique Fairlane which should have had a complete engine rebuild a year ago, I did allow myself a tiny fantasy about that big ass book advance. But thatās not what motivates me. Obviously, thereās interest in you, in your story. I think itās very important. Maybe I write a book like we talked about. Or maybe at the end of the day I just go home and burn my notes.
RICK: In that case, whatās the point in me talking to you? Why are you here?
A moment.
GLORIA: The first time I understood race in this country I was at a Fourth of July parade with my folks. My mom had put red, white, and blue ribbons in my hair and I was very proud of them. I was standing there on the corner, holding her hand, my daddy had gone to get me a snow cone, and this white policeman who was providing security looked over at me and smiled. I knew he was going to say something nice because thatās what grown-ups did. And he leaned over and said to me very quietly, āHello, little nigger, how are you doing today?ā I was six. (Beat.) I think itās fair to say that most Black people donāt spend a lot of time trying to understand racism so much as survive it. Weāre looking for the work-around, not the explanation. Iām a little bit different, maybe. Iāve thought a lot about that police officer over the years and the ways he changed me. Was he just a, a āman of his time;ā like the nose on his face, his racism so much a part of him that he wasnāt even aware of it any more? Or did he know exactly what he was doing and there was a special thril...