Although issues like child prostitution, rape, and racial bigotry are so disturbing they might have been overwhelming to view for two straight hours, the message portrayed by "From the Mississippi Delta" slipped to the heart because of the incredibly rich, and funny, acting and singing of the three-person cast.
As a result, the autobiographical story of an African-American woman's childhood poverty in Louisiana and awakening in the civil rights movement played last night to a standing ovation of about 250 people in Spaulding Auditorium.
The actresses in the play, Kathi Bentley, Venida Evans and Neanni Ife, brought to life a small town in Louisiana with minimal props and a sparse set consisting only of a run-down porch and a rocking chair. The three actresses' rotation of roles on stage transformed the play into a parable for African-American women.
The play's first spoken words, "the Mississippi Delta is a testament to African-American inferiority," set up the tension that coursed through the play between Holland's search for self-pride and the place of her demeaning childhood experience.
One particularly moving scene, "Calm, Balmy Days," depicted Holland's rape on her eleventh birthday by a white man. While Holland began the scene happily admiring the extravagance of the white man's home, she soon moves to remember the beautiful carved steps to the white man's bedroom which became "became etched into (her) being" after the rape.
Holland searches for a meaningful personal identity throughout the play. Her search for affirmation leads her first to a dance hall, where she finds her inspiration in black woman named Candy, a topless dancer. With the men in the audience giving Holland a warped feeling of self-esteem, she naively takes to the stage in imitation of Candy.
In "The Water Meter," a scene highlighted by Evans' amusing portrayal of Miss Rosebud, the oldest woman in Holland's childhood town, lives to protect her water meter from vandals. She tells the story of a young man who dared Miss Rosebud by fooling with the water meter. The man's only attempt at standing out and creating an identity for himself ironically results in his death.
Throughout the play, Holland's mother, Aint Baby, exhibits a stark alternative identity to Holland as an old-fashioned midwife. In contrast to the explorations of Holland in the dance hall, Aint Baby finds herself as the pillar of the community delivering children.
Holland's deliverance comes when the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee brings civil rights to Louisiana. Holland finds pride in freedom marches while Aint Baby stoicly remains skeptical. "All them freedom folks gonna do is get us sittin' in some pigeon drops," Aint Baby says.
As the play ends, Holland has come into her own as an academic and civil rights advocate, but has accepted the community she grew up in. In the final scene, Holland writes a letter to Alice Walker, the famous activist novelist, and asks her to plant a flower for Aint Baby. Holland has acknowledged the contribution of her mother Aint Baby, and all those like her, to African-American women.
