I Am Not Your Negro is a cinematic poem. A jarring juxtaposition of writing and found footage, it is both an elegant and elegiac tribute to a man whose ideas are as relevant today as they were when he was alive.
New York City photographer Chris Washington has set aside his weekend for a trip to the country, where he must endure an ancient custom: meeting a girlfriend’s parents for the first time.
The pickup truck pulled up alongside us, and the white guy inside, maybe in his 30s, waved his fist at us. Menacing. Intimidating. Gloating. Then he roared on, leaving us in the wake of his muffler. BY REV. JIM CONN
Here at the end of President Obama’s final term in office, we seem to be having the national conversation about race that he called for at the beginning of his candidacy in 2008.
Greg Keller’s play is set in 1992, and opens on a subway traveling north from Manhattan to the Bronx. Steve (Josh Zuckerman), middle-class and white, is reading War of the Worlds, and intent on ignoring the obstreperous behavior of a lanky black man, distinctly non-middle-class, who seems to be eyeing him from across the aisle.