Editor's note: I wrote the beginning of this article for the blog a year ago. Due to scheduling, I never posted it. Since then, it's been sitting in a scrap pile of words that I call "My Vent Box." Sadly, with the death of Botham Jean, this is relevant again. We all know the problems. Discrimination. Inequality. Racism. Prejudice. Bias. Really, pick a word. It’s hard to turn on the news and not see these through the news stories. Whether it’s a politician saying he should be

© 2018 by Djoré Nance The river that runs twixt Texas and Oklahoma Native blood the same as the native color The river that runs from the gulf to Canada Contains parts unknown in the negro panacea It’s an unrest that passes all confusion How do we awaken from this demonic illusion Hallucination of collusion with power that’s soft But it’s flacidity doesn’t merit a scoff Pay attention to the way they speak And the stupidity we seek will show a river of red A river bed that’s c

I was first introduced to the play Br’er Cotton by Tearrance Arvelle Chisholm at Kitchen Dog Theater’s New Works Festival as a reading in May of 2016. I thought the play was fantastic, visually stunning, very special and yet extremely challenging. When Kitchen Dog Theater’s Co-Artistic Directors, Tina Parker and Chris Carlos, decided to produce Br’er Cotton as a Mainstage New Works Festival Play to be performed in June of 2017, I was thrilled and looked forward to seeing it i

©All A Gray Area 2016 All Rights Reserved. Video contains graphic content Exactly one year ago, I sat on the patio of coffee shop in Colombia. I cried. Not just because there was another unnecessary shooting of someone who could have been my brother. But because I felt broken and detached; broken by fear and detached from family and friends who would understand that fear. Then, in my new home, even with its own form of racism, I couldn't quite make people understand why two d