Friday, October 13, 2006
Brian Copeland's "Not a Genuine Black Man"
My friend Alan Phinney and I attended Brian Copeland's one-man show, "Not a Genuine Black Man," at the Marsh Theater in San Francisco last week. I can't stop thinking about the show.
To summarize very briefly, it's the story of a black kid growing up in a racist neighborhood. Nothing new there, you might think.
But there's this: Brian Copland is my age, and he grew up five miles from me.
That's why the show (and the book, which I'm in the middle of) affected me so. It's strange and amazing and sad to think that this was going on so close in time and space to my life. I think of hard-core bigotry as being something from the deep South in the 50s -- safely removed from my suburban California upbringing. Not so.
I'm embarrassed that I was oblivious to the fact that this went on.
There are places in the show that I recognize. He talks about Washington Manor (where my mom now lives), St. Felicitas Church (been to funerals there), and the IHOP in downtown Hayward. In the book he describes but doesn't name a busy restaurant in the Hayward/San Leandro area that is, I suspect, Banchero's. (Those of you who know me REALLY well know the connection there.)
There are moments in the show that struck home in other ways, too. Copeland's a fellow Trekkie (not a poison word, in my opinion). He, too, was a Boy Scout -- and he talks about hoping to go to Lake Chabot for his Fishing Merit Badge. (His story ends badly, with the white counselor signing off on his badge without asking him to complete any of the requirements.) He talks about his struggles with depression over things that are beyond his control -- another familiar topic.
The show's been held over until the end of November 2006. (Held over for the umpteenth time -- it's now the longest-running one-man show in San Francisco history. We saw the 360th performance.) I encourage everyone to see it. If you can't, get the book. And look for a TV show based on Copeland's material, produced by Rob Reiner, which is in development.
It's a messy slice of our local life that we'd rather ignore, but that we can't afford to.
To summarize very briefly, it's the story of a black kid growing up in a racist neighborhood. Nothing new there, you might think.
But there's this: Brian Copland is my age, and he grew up five miles from me.
That's why the show (and the book, which I'm in the middle of) affected me so. It's strange and amazing and sad to think that this was going on so close in time and space to my life. I think of hard-core bigotry as being something from the deep South in the 50s -- safely removed from my suburban California upbringing. Not so.
I'm embarrassed that I was oblivious to the fact that this went on.
There are places in the show that I recognize. He talks about Washington Manor (where my mom now lives), St. Felicitas Church (been to funerals there), and the IHOP in downtown Hayward. In the book he describes but doesn't name a busy restaurant in the Hayward/San Leandro area that is, I suspect, Banchero's. (Those of you who know me REALLY well know the connection there.)
There are moments in the show that struck home in other ways, too. Copeland's a fellow Trekkie (not a poison word, in my opinion). He, too, was a Boy Scout -- and he talks about hoping to go to Lake Chabot for his Fishing Merit Badge. (His story ends badly, with the white counselor signing off on his badge without asking him to complete any of the requirements.) He talks about his struggles with depression over things that are beyond his control -- another familiar topic.
The show's been held over until the end of November 2006. (Held over for the umpteenth time -- it's now the longest-running one-man show in San Francisco history. We saw the 360th performance.) I encourage everyone to see it. If you can't, get the book. And look for a TV show based on Copeland's material, produced by Rob Reiner, which is in development.
It's a messy slice of our local life that we'd rather ignore, but that we can't afford to.
