Chapters (31)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Contents
- Room in the Dark I
- Fawns of the Diaspora Court Liliane in Paris, While Tabou Combo Whispers “Coq Qualité” in Her Ears
- Room in the Dark II
- “I Usedta Drink, Smoke and Do the Hoochie-Koo,” or What’s a Girl to Do When Her Mother Looks Like Ruth Brown
- Room in the Dark III
- “El Bochinche” es que only Fe Cortijo Knows or All the LeBron Brothers Know If Victor-Jésus María Sang Lili to Her Freedom
- Room in the Dark IV
- And Where Is Garnett Mimms?
- Room in the Dark V
- I Know Where Kansas City Is, But Did Wilbert Harrison Ever Get There?
- Room in the Dark VI
- Zoom Went the Strings of Liliane’s Heart, But Arsenio Rodriguez Could Have Told Her the Music Sounds Just as Sweet When We’re Blind and Still We See
- Room in the Dark VII
- I Know Where the E Train Stops But I’m “Sendin’ Out an S.O.S.” and I’m Not Edwin Starr Either
- Room in the Dark VIII
- “Happy, Happy Birthday, Baby” or Wouldn’t It Be Great If the Lead Singer of The Crests Wasn’t a White Boy and I Could Be My Mother?
- Room in the Dark IX
- Every Time My Lil World Seems Blue, I Just Haveta Look at You and Learn Eye-Hand Coordination
- Room in the Dark X
- “That’s Why I Love Her So and Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I Want to Know” or Why Jackie Wilson Died in Silence
- Room in the Dark XI
- There’s No Use Cryin’ “Forever” or Hyacinthe Returns from a Very Blue Holiday for Real B(l)ack at Ya
- Room in the Dark XII
- Lollie Struts Her Stuff Thru “The Sea of Love” or the Brides of Frankenstein Catch the Bouquet
- By Ntozake Shange
- Acknowledgments
- Copyright
“Yes, indeed, you are. Both of you are looking lovely.” In the doorway to my room stood none other than S. Bliss Lincoln herself. S. Bliss in an array of silk crepe that swept the floor as she walked toward us. She was Aphrodite, I thought. She must be Venus. Then I remembered Ruth Brown, when S. Bliss lit up a cigarette. Smoking was still frowned upon by my mama’s friends, but S. Bliss did as she pleased and she seemed to please most folks most of the time.
“Did you two hear me? I said you lovely creatures are surely the belles of this ball.”
“You think so honestly, Mama?” Liliane queried, taking on all her mother’s smooth motions and impenetrable demeanor, knowing the answer could only be yes.
I was still fiddling with my hair. The french roll I wanted was tumbling instead of fixing. S. Bliss walked over to me, put some hairpins in her mouth, commenced to setting my “look” right.
“Do you think the conference was a success, Mrs. Lincoln?” That’s what I asked her, cause I knew she had no time for dimwitted girls.
“That depends on what you mean by success, Roxie. Is the Negro going to be really free at say midnight tonight, no. Are we going to be free of the insanity of Jim Crow by dawn, absolutely not. But you girls have to realize the freedom you wage your most serious battle for is your very own mind. No white man on this earth has the power or the right, for that matter, to control a single inch of your brain. Your minds, girls, are the first battlefields for freedom. You understand me.” When she was talking, I kept thinking how odd this all was. Here was somebody’s mother, Liliane’s actually, with hairpins in her mouth, tending to another child’s grooming, going on about our minds. Then my mama, R.C., stepped through my door glistening with excitement.
“Oh, S. Bliss, we got that Ruth Brown record we were looking for. Girls, are you leaving this old woman out of your goin’s-on? I’m mighty sprightly myself, you hear. We are going to do all those dances I told you about, Roxie. What you call old-fashioned, but you’ll see, won’t she, Bliss? There’s a whole lot of sugar left in this here, R.C. Golightly. Yes, there is.”
My mama took over from S. Bliss with my hair and my powder for my forehead and my nose where I usually shine. As was her custom, Mama muttered, “Young men don’t want to see any shiny colored girls. They want to see their faces in your eyes, not riding on your nose.”