Twilght

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Twilght Page 16

by Anna Deavere Smith


  that’s why,

  I’ve never used the Bible very much before.

  I used it in my closing statement.

  I actually have a Bible right here.

  I’ll see if I can find it for you.

  I didn’t read from the Bible, I referred to it.

  Gotta remember.

  It was the Saturday

  after Good Friday and before Easter.

  It’s Matthew.

  My father’s an Orthodox Jew.

  My mother is a Catholic,

  so I was raised a Catholic.

  In my closing statement

  I used the parts of the Bible

  from the trial of Christ,

  because, really,

  Pontius Pilate

  wasn’t such a bad sort.

  He,

  you know, he asked the right questions.

  First he asked,

  “What evil has this man done?”

  And in Matthew,

  where he focused on the individual guilts of a prisoner—

  I’m referring to Christ as the prisoner

  because I don’t want this to become a theological thing—

  and in Matthew,

  Pontius Pilate

  talks about

  there being rioting in the city.

  It’s clear that Pontius Pilate

  is trying to balance the fact that this man has done no evil

  against the fact that there would be public disorder

  if this man wasn’t condemned.

  And he wouldn’t condemn him himself,

  he had other people condemn him.

  Can’t find it.

  Guess I have to send it to you.

  Then in John

  (He is still flipping through the Bible)

  Pontius Pilate jested,

  he says,

  “What is truth?”

  And it’s a haunting question here too,

  isn’t it?

  Is it the truth of Koon and Powell being guilty

  or is it the truth of the society

  that has to find them

  guilty in order to protect itself?

  Swallowing the Bitterness

  Mrs. Young Soon Han Former liquor store owner

  (A house on Sycamore Street in Los Angeles just south of Beverly. A tree-lined street. A quiet street. It’s in an area where many Hasidic Jews live as well as yuppie types. Mrs. Young-Soon Han’s living room is impeccable. Dark pink-and-apricot rug and sofa and chairs. The sofa and chairs are made of a velour. On the back of the sofa and chairs is a Korean design. A kind of circle with lines in it, a geometric design. There is a glass coffee table in front of the sofa. There is nothing on the coffee table. There is a mantel with a bookcase, and a lot of books. The mantel has about thirty trophies. These are her nephew’s. They may be for soccer. On the wall behind the sofa area, a series of citations and awards. These are her ex-husband’s. They are civic awards. There are a couple of pictures of her husband shaking hands with official-looking people and accepting awards. In this area is also a large painting of Jesus Christ. There is another religious painting over the archway to the dining room. There are some objects hanging on the side of the archway. Long strips and oval shapes. It is very quiet. When we first came in, the television was on, but she turned it off.

  (She is sitting on the floor and leaning on the coffee table. When she hits her hand on the table, it sounds very much like a drum. I am accompanied by two Korean-American graduate students from UCLA.)

  Until last year

  I believed America is the best.

  I still believe it.

  I don’t deny that now

  because I’m a victim,

  but

  as

  the year ends in ’92

  and we were still in turmoil

  and having all the financial problems

  and mental problems.

  Then a couple months ago

  I really realized that

  Korean immigrants were left out

  from this

  society and we were nothing.

  What is our right?

  Is it because we are Korean?

  Is it because we have no politicians?

  Is it because we don’t

  speak good English?

  Why?

  Why do we have to be left out?

  (She is hitting her hand on the coffee table)

  We are not qualified to have medical treatment.

  We are not qualified to get, uh,

  food stamp

  (She hits the table once),

  not GR

  (Hits the table once),

  no welfare

  (Hits the table once).

  Anything.

  Many Afro-Americans

  (Two quick hits)

  who never worked

  (One hit),

  they get

  at least minimum amount

  (One hit)

  of money

  (One hit)

  to survive

  (One hit).

  We don’t get any!

  (large hit with full hand spread)

  Because we have a car

  (One hit)

  and we have a house.

  (Pause six seconds)

  And we are high taxpayers.

  (One hit)

  (Pause fourteen seconds)

  Where do I finda [sic] justice?

  Okay, Black people

  probably

  believe they won

  by the trial?

  Even some complains only half right?

  justice was there.

  But I watched the television

  that Sunday morning,

  early morning as they started.

  I started watch it all day.

  They were having party and then they celebrated,

  all of South-Central,

  all the churches.

  They finally found that justice exists

  in this society.

  Then where is the victims’ rights?

  They got their rights.

  By destroying innocent Korean merchants …

  They have a lot of respect,

  as I do,

  for

  Dr. Martin King?

  He is the only model for Black community.

  I don’t care Jesse Jackson.

  But

  he was the model

  of nonviolence.

  Nonviolence?

  They like to have hiseh [sic] spirits.

  What about last year?

  They destroyed innocent people.

  (Five-second pause)

  And I wonder if that is really justice

  (And a very soft “uh” after “justice,” like “justicah,” hut very quick)

  to get their rights

  in this way.

  (Thirteen-second pause)

  I waseh swallowing the bitternesseh,

  sitting here alone

  and watching them.

  They became all hilarious

  (Three-second pause)

  and, uh,

  in a way I was happy for them

  and I felt glad for them.

  At leasteh they got something back, you know.

  Just let’s forget Korean victims or other victims

  who are destroyed by them.

  They have fought

  for their rights

  (One hit simultaneous with the word “rights”)

  over two centuries

  (One hit simultaneous with “centuries”)

  and I have a lot of sympathy and understanding for them.

  Because of their effort and sacrificing,

  other minorities, like Hispanic

  or Asians,

  maybe we have to suffer more

  by mainstream.

  You know,

  that’s why I understand,

  and then

  I like to be part of their

&n
bsp; ’joyment.

  But …

  That’s why I had mixed feeling

  as soon as I heard the verdict.

  I wish I could

  live together

  with eh [sic] Blacks,

  but after the riots

  there were too much differences.

  The fire is still there—

  how do you call it?—

  igni …

  igniting fire.

  (She says a Korean phrase phonetically: “Dashi yun gi ga nuh”)

  It’s still dere.

  It canuh

  burst out anytime.

  Lucia

  Gladis Sibrian Director, Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front, USA

  (Morning at the Mark Taper Forum in a rehearsal hall. I am videotaping her. She wears black pants and a beautiful white linen shirt. She is from El Salvador. She was a nun who became a revolutionary.)

  When I was, um,

  thirteen, fourteen

  years old,

  my, my, my uncle and my relatives would say,

  “How can you change things in this country?

  It’s impossible.

  Sixty years of military dictatorship.

  How can you change that?

  And you’re thirteen years old!”

  “Ha,” they will say,

  “you wouldn’t change anything.”

  That was the question

  also in my school.

  How can we young people

  change things around?

  And one of the things we have

  was faith,

  convictions.

  That we have power within ourselves,

  that we can change things.

  People will say we are idealistic,

  romantic,

  part of our age.

  We believe that.

  Of course,

  in the process

  people did die.

  I had a nom de guerre,

  name of guerre.

  My name was Lucia,

  so people would refer to

  light.

  Luce.

  Lucia.

  Light.

  What happened here in LA, I

  call it a social explosion.

  And what we call an uprising,

  it’s much more organized, planned.

  So what happened here was more

  spontaneous.

  On the one hand,

  I was, I was, I was excited,

  I was excited that people

  didn’t just

  let it pass,

  let it pass by.

  That, that, what happened,

  declaring innocent the police,

  and this spark through Rodney King

  became

  that,

  what we call

  the detonante.

  There is a bomb and you pull the cord?

  Detonante.

  That’s why we call it a social explosion

  when people can no longer take it—

  the status quo.

  But on the other hand, I was sad

  because it was anarchical,

  it was not in any way planned,

  organized.

  For me it was sad, the way that many people

  will die

  without even knowing why they die.

  Every day

  in this Los Angeles

  so many people die

  and they didn’t even know why they die.

  There is no sense of future,

  sense of hope

  that things can be changed.

  Why?

  Because they don’t feel that they have the power

  within themselves,

  that they can change things.

  Limbo/Twilight #2

  Twilight Bey Organizer of gang truce

  (In a Denny’s restaurant in a shopping center. Saturday morning, February 1993. He is a gang member. He is short, graceful, very dark skinned. He is soft-spoken and even in his delivery. He is very confident.)

  Twilight Bey,

  that’s my name.

  When I was

  twelve and thirteen,

  I stayed out until, they say,

  until the sun come up.

  Every night, you know,

  and that was my thing.

  I was a

  watchdog.

  You know, I stayed up in the neighborhood,

  make sure we wasn’t being rolled on and everything,

  and when people

  came into light

  a what I knew,

  a lot a people said,

  “Well, Twilight, you know,

  you a lot smarter and you have a lot more wisdom than those

  twice your age.”

  And what I did, you know,

  I was

  at home writing one night

  and I was writing my name

  and I just looked at it and it came ta me:

  “twi,”

  abbreviation

  of the word “twice.”

  You take a way the “ce.”

  You have the last word,

  “light.”

  “Light” is a word that symbolizes knowledge, knowing,

  wisdom,

  within the Koran and the Holy Bible.

  Twilight.

  I have twice the knowledge of those my age,

  twice the understanding of those my age.

  So twilight

  is

  that time

  between day and night.

  Limbo,

  I call it limbo.

  So a lot of times when I’ve brought up ideas to my homeboys,

  they say,

  “Twilight,

  that’s before your time,

  that’s something you can’t do now.”

  When I talked about the truce back in 1988,

  that was something they considered before its time,

  yet

  in 1992

  we made it

  realistic.

  So to me it’s like I’m stuck in limbo,

  like the sun is stuck between night and day

  in the twilight hours.

  You know,

  I’m in an area not many people exist.

  Nighttime to me

  is like a lack of sun,

  and I don’t affiliate

  darkness with anything negative.

  I affiliate

  darkness with what was first,

  because it was first,

  and then relative to my complexion.

  I am a dark individual,

  and with me stuck in limbo,

  I see darkness as myself.

  I see the light as knowledge and the wisdom of the world and

  understanding others,

  and in order for me to be a, to be a true human being,

  I can’t forever dwell in darkness,

  I can’t forever dwell in the idea,

  of just identifying with people like me and understanding me and mine.

  So I’m up twenty-four hours, it feels like,

  and, you know,

  what I see at nighttime

  is,

  like,

  little kids

  between the ages of

  eight and eleven

  out at three in the morning.

  They beatin’ up a old man on the bus stop,

  a homeless old man.

  You know,

  I see these things.

  I tell ’em, “Hey, man, what ya all doin’?

  Whyn’t ya go on home?

  What ya doin’ out this time of night?”

  You know,

  and then when I’m in my own neighborhood, I’m driving through and I

  see the living dead, as we call them,

  the base heads,

  the people who are so addicted on crack,

  if they need a hit they be up all night doin’
whatever they have to do

  to make the money to get the hit.

  It’s like gettin’ a total dose

  of what goes on in the daytime creates at night.

  Time Line March 1991–October 1993

  1991

  March 3: Los Angeles Police officers beat, subdue, and arrest Rodney G. King. George Holliday, a resident of a nearby apartment, captures the beating on videotape and distributes it to CNN and other stations; it is soon seen around the world.

  March 6: Police Chief Daryl F. Gates calls beating an “aberration.” Community leaders call for Gates’s resignation.

  March 7: King is released after the district attorney’s office announces there is not enough evidence to file criminal charges.

  March 15: Four Los Angeles police officers—Sergeant Stacey C. Koon and officers Laurence M. Powell, Timothy E. Wind, and Theodore J. Briseno—are arraigned on felony charges stemming from the King beating.

  March 16: A store security camera records the fatal shooting of fifteen-year-old Latasha Harlins, an African-American girl, by Korean-American Soon Ja Du in a South Los Angeles liquor store.

  March 26: The four police officers charged in the King beating plead not guilty. Soon Ja Du is arraigned on one count of murder.

  March 28: Records show that $11.3 million was paid to victims of police brutality by the city of Los Angeles in 1990 to resolve police abuse cases.

  April 1: In response to the King beating, Mayor Tom Bradley appoints a commission, headed by former deputy secretary of state Warren Christopher, to investigate the Los Angeles Police Department.

  April 4: The Los Angeles Police Commission places Gates on sixty-day leave.

  April 5: The city council orders the reinstatement of Gates.

  April 7: Gates takes disciplinary action against the four criminally charged officers. He fires probationary officer Timothy Wind and suspends the other three without pay.

  May 10: A grand jury decides not to indict any of the nineteen officers who were bystanders at the beating. The police department later disciplines ten of them.

  July 9: The Christopher Commission report is released; it suggests Gates and the entire Police Commission step down.

  July 10: Gates strips Assistant Chief David D. Dotson of his command after he complained openly of the chief’s record in disciplining officers.

  July 16: The Police Commission orders Gates to reinstate Dotson.

  July 22: Gates announces he will retire in 1992.

  July 23: The State Second District Court of Appeal orders the trial of the four LAPD officers moved out of Los Angeles County.

  September 30: The prosecution in the Soon Ja Du-Latasha Harlins trial begins its case.

  October 1: The police commission approves the vast majority of the 129 reform recommendations issued by the Christopher Commission.

 

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