Welcome to Zooman and the Sign by Charles Fuller. This is its second incarnation here at Penumbra Theatre Company. We first produced this show in our 1982-83 Season. It electrified audiences many of whom were frustrated with the apathy of police and leadership forces, as the conditions of the community depressed into something unrecognizable, terrifying and very sad. Some of our young people seemed lost, adrift on uncharted waters. While poor folks tried to hold kin together and simultaneously make ends meet, some state and federal governmental officials sermonized about the breakdown of the black family, and the negligence of the black community, with utter disregard for the fact of racism. Our communities have always been challenged by external threats, but over the past several years they have been put under siege from within.  The community reaction is predictable, often we dehumanize the threat so that our reactions, our anger, fear, or apathy, seem justified.  The problem that arises when the threat comes from within the community, is that we begin to dehumanize our own relatives, or friends, our sons and daughters.  This play forces us to consider how overwhelming the problem can be, but remains unrelenting in its demand for the recognition of humanity on both sides.

As the development of urban housing projects and the gentrification of traditionally black neighborhoods pressed the economically disadvantaged further toward the margins of American society, racially described ghettos became the “invisible juggernaut” of nearly every major city in the United States. Recent achievements made through monumental sacrifice during the Civil Rights Movement seemed to dull in comparison to the drudgery of daily life in the ghetto, where racism sanctioned by the federal government, law enforcement and political representatives rendered those communities silent and voiceless. Adult unemployment, chemical dependency and incarceration proved lasting and rampant problems in these districts. Even more demoralized were the youth of such communities left often to fend for themselves. Unprotected and harassed by the police, they struggled with inferior systems of education, without access to after school programs with constructive stimulation. Youth who were frustrated both with the invisibility of their struggle and their hyper-visibility of their skin color began banding together under the auspices of self-protection. Their acts of rebellion remained largely unchecked while the temperature of their furor grew and their defiance became synonymous with terrorism.

We bring this piece to light again today because these issues are still largely on the table in American society. It is becoming increasingly more common that our youth are acting out with extreme violence while we seem struck dumb by the death of an innocent like 11-year-old Tyesha Edwards, like Michael Zebuhr, or astonished by tragedies such as Columbine or Red Lake. Often it is hard for us to understand how these things can happen, and we are immobilized by our fear and sadness. But we must not be held prisoner by our fear. We must stand up against violence, instill a respect for life in the youth taking it so frivolously. This play asks that we find the humanity in human beings, that we glean onto whatever small portion is left, to hold it up to the light, polish it, so that pride and self-respect become the guiding principals for our youth. Only then, when they know what it is to be respected rather than feared, will they find the courage to respect all life: their own and the lives of others too.

Lou Bellamy
Artistic Director

© 2012 Penumbra Theatre