Amara, a Latinx woman and Olivia are not only friends they are best friends who work together as low level journalists in Anytown, USA. The scene starts as a day in the life of these two women having water cooler talk in the break room. Between the coffee and updating on the rumor mill their morning is starting off quite nice. Suddenly through the glass they see a shift in the room, as everyone runs to look at the television. In a moment that is remnants of the beginning of 9/11 everyone stares at the television as they watch men, women, and even children being detained by agents. As journalists it is someone's responsibility to be the boots on the ground interviewing people, but when Amara is asked to go because she “speaks the language” she is offended. Even more disappointing is her friend Olivia doesn't understand why. Olivia means well, she tries her best to empathize while not realizing some topics like those dealing with race, are very difficult for people to understand who could never walk a mile in the other person's shoes. This situation hits home for Amara because it is only a matter of feet from where she lives. She knows these people, she's seen their children and can name them and their ages one by one. Does she stay in the safety of her job as a silent protest, or does she take join her neighbors in real protest on the street? When she finds herself arm in arm with her neighbors when a riot begins, Olivia watches in fear for her friend. When Amara is arrested, Olivia wants to help her friend but is met with deafening silence. This is a heartbreaking story that has become a normal part of our existence. Right or wrong, agree or disagree, there is a way in which we do things that are civilized, and outlined by our legal system. When the line of right and wrong overlap, when the “criminal” looks like the victim, how do we find our friends and ourselves when these things are too Close to Home.
Close to Home
(Scene opens with Amara, a Latinx woman swiping through her phone intensely. The following vignettes move as fast as Amara would be able to swipe them. Social media #1)
#3-
(From Olivia’s phone)
User: Salvar a nuestras hijas(These lines should overlap each other, going between Spanish and English. As if Olivia is hearing it in Spanish but reading it out loud from her phone in English.)
“Ayer quería llevar a mi hija Felicia al parque, pero me enteré de que había agentes de ICE allí... disfrazados para parecer padres del vecindario. No me digan que esto no es una amenaza directa.”
(Translation: I wanted to take my daughter Felicia to the park yesterday, but I heard ICE agents were there... in costumes to look like parents in the neighborhoods. Don't tell me this isn't a direct threat.)
(Amara and Olivia, both in their mid-twenties slowly put their phones down, their faces show their disappointment but for very different reasons.)
Olivia: Don’t worry, we’re good.
Amara: “We’re” not good. You’re good. I’m… (Olivia realizes what she’s saying and tries to support her friend.)
Olivia: It’s not happening here.
Amara: It’s still happening though.
Olivia: Amara, bestie, look at me (Amara I heartbroken, she can’t look at her) we are on tv. We report the news. People love us. No one is going to even try to (whispers) deport you.
Amara: But they- they could. Then what? (Amara finally looks up to Olivia in some insane karate/ fighter stance)
Olivia: I’ll kick their asses. (looks for a smile- nothing) I’ll kick their asses and we’ll run (Amara almost smiles) yeah- we’ll run to the Westbrook grocery store grab a couple of gallons of strawberry rush ice cream-
Amara: (softly but giving in) – and eat it all?
Olivia: Right in the frozen food aisle where old Mr. Bernard can see us-
Amara: He loves us he’d probably bring an extra spoon and whip cream. (they both laugh, slight nudge)
Olivia: I’d fight for you… we all would.
Amara: I know I’m just nervous. (looks around) I’m not fully a citizen.
