For A Woman

“O.K. White boys. What you think you got me doing here, talkin’ ‘bout movies and such?” “Well, woman,” Trey’s voice, deep and rich, almost echoed throughout the kitchen, “I have some reading material for you to sift through and then Bobby and I want to have a conversation with you. Up for that?” “Let me see it.” Trey and I took a walk, then asked Shontel what she thought about the book. “Tell you the truth, I just sort of skimmed my way through a few chapters, and I’m not sure what to think of it. You believe I can play the role of who…the silent little bitch, Dottie the secretary…the slinky, classic-body lover, Suzanna…or the traitorous Chair of Psychology, Emma Watson? Whom I gonna be, Bobby Banfield?” “None of ‘em. We see you as the lead character, Sara Stone, Dean of Liberal Studies. She is hired because she’s Black and told to fill the ranks of faculty with more Blacks. She is a deeply flawed person…sexually wide-ranging, carrying hidden ambitions to go along with her obvious limp, bad hearing, crippled hand and fake eye. In Trey’s vision, she may not be a serial killer, but she is a cold-hearted bitch taking pleasure in human tragedy, flooded with hostility, trying to pass herself off as Black normal in a world full of White skeptics.” “You see me as a mess?” “Shontel, we see you as the actress redefining herself in the role of a lifetime. Where you been the last ten years, eh? How many movies have you released? How many Broadway appearances have you made? How many specials on CNN or series on Netflix feature your name up on the title? “Do I look like a college Dean, Bobby? Really? I’m Black! Is there anything about me that shouts education, sophistication, specialized knowledge? What president of a college run by Whitey would hire a Black Dean? Eh? Think about it, boy.” “And that is the point, Shontel. Your character, Sara Stone, is a shallow hick from an Air Force family who made her way through college with Affirmative Action, hard work and a certain sexual strain of favors. The President of Middleton College knows of her from her work in the History Department. He’s interested in selecting Deans who will be creative, hire Black faculty, and create a new racial balance. He wants the college to look a little like portions of St. Paul. He thinks Sara Stone might be able to do it.” “And…” “He is wrong.” “Why would that be, Bobby?” “His Dean of AL&S (you), becomes a horror show. She becomes outraged with the indolence of departmental resistance. She is obstinate (you); she’s sexually active (you); she has a temper and impulsive behavior (you); and finally, she has multiple handicaps.” “She’s handicapped?” “Yep…that artificial eye, bad knee, frozen fingers…all through a bike accident. Layer that on to her personality which is offensive to anyone looking for friendship…unless that someone is a lesbian, a male lover…or a connected academic (and all of which can be you). Yet, she stands by the one principle for which she was hired…changing the color makeup of the faculty and creating a more diverse student body. This leads to trouble.” “Why trouble…sounds like our girlfriend is hitch-hikin’ in the right direction.” “She is impatient, imposing change rather than leading it. She’s flirting, fucking, and fighting her way through faculty hiring rules; she is obstructed by tenure protections, academic tradition and the challenge of dealing with her personal injuries. She finds herself fighting the only other Black faculty in a position of leadership.” “Who’s that?” “Chair of the English Department, Monique Baroque’. She’s not in the book. I’m adding her to the narrative, cause we need an anti-hero. Monique, ebony skinned as she is, identifies herself as a White person, rejects Dean Sara Stone’s agenda and focuses on recruiting poor Whites.” “How’s that gonna’ go down in the Big House?” “Not well.” “Anything else ‘bout this Dean lady..what’s her name?” “Dean Sara Stone. Yes, there is one other issue. She is a trans-gender woman who has not come out.” “WHAT! How’d I miss that a-skimming? Hmmmm. Well, Bobby Banfield, that ain’t the ‘other issue’. That’s the main branch upon which I can hang my hook! Transgender, eh? Hiding it from faculty and all? Bet I’m gonna be practicing my craft on both men and women, Black and White? Oh my soul! I’m excited! How’s that gonna’ work out?” “Not well.” “Oh, I would think not. My Lord, Bobby do-right…that girl’s gonna get battered! You’re thinking a Black woman can change White America and all that and still rest easy in her chair? She’s infatuated with power, but has an array of flaws, physical and emotional. She’s often flatulent, politically ruthless, and lives with an acrylic eye which she cleans frequently, as she limps about dragging a bad leg…a Quasimodo in cap n’ gown. She’s sexually active with men and women, professors and secretaries, and, some would say, students of a certain ilk. Dean Sara Stone is sometimes murderous and always dangerous.” “You want me to be farting on screen, screwing women, bedding men, killing people, dictating course contents, limping around sending faculty types running for air? That right, Bobby?” She smiled. “I gotta say that appeals to me?” “We want a great actress to make a character so repulsive, the audience cannot get her misdeeds out of their minds. Six months after seeing you, viewers will still be shuddering and that’s long enough.” “You think I’m it, Bobby Banfield? “We do. Think about it.” I got up to leave, and as I turned, Shontel said, quietly. “I’ll do it. I’ll do it, but if I become a tar baby for White folk critics…if I end my career with this shit, then Trey, my tall, tall man, and Bobby, my bad, bad boy…(she paused)…I will kill you both.” She wasn’t smiling.