by Gillian Greer

Scene 1

Spotlight shines on JULIAN, a teenager of approximately 17, originally from Zimbabwe. He is wearing a dark uniform and has his hands shoved in his pockets. He is clearly self-conscious.

JULIAN: I’ve never liked September. It always marks the beginning of an end. Trees are hued brown, as if they’re turning stale, the sky is a constant grey, there are signs of desolation everywhere you go.

Look around on any day in September; just watch the faces you pass by. Everyone can see the end is coming–a sort of doom hangs around all the time. Do you notice it too? It tinges every face and darkens every cheek.

I’m no different. For me, September first is like a day of mourning. The school gates open and I’m dragged unwillingly from my bed–it pulls me, like a hunk of rusting metal dragged twoards a magnet. The start of every autumn, someone flicks the switch and the magnet hauls me towards it once again.

When we came here first, I had no expectatins. I knew that I would be viewed…differently. Being different I can live with, but it’s the loneliness, that feeling of being trapped in a bubble, that’s what gets to me.

(He kicks a few dead leaves idly)

Who knows? Maybe this year will be different. Maybe.

Exeunt

Scene 2

The spotlight falls in CIARA and NIKKI, two girls of the same age as JULIAN, who seemingly have been listening the entire time. Both are in the same dark uniform as JULIAN, though appear more relaxed in it. NIKKI is smoking a cigarette, while CIARA is biting her fingernails and staring towards centre-stage, where JULIAN had previously been standing.

NIKKI: Oh My God. Ciara, Ciara, did you see that?

CIARA: (Distantly) Yeah.

NIKKI: (Laughs again, quieter) I mean, I always thought that Julian guy was a bit of a freak but I didnt realise he actually talks to himself.

CIARA: (Half-Heartedly) Mmm. Funny.

NIKKI: I have to tell Shannon and the girls when we get in…are you even listening?

CIARA: What? Oh yeah. ‘Course. It’s just…We’re getting the results of that maths test later, I’m really worried about it.

NIKKI: Oh right, don’t be. You’ll be grand, you always are.

(She stamps out her cigarette.)

Here, I’m ready to go. You coming?

CIARA: I’ll follow you in a second.

NIKKI: (Shrugs) Alright, suit yourself

Exit: NIKKI

CIARA: (Wanders centre-stage, deep in thought and addresses audience) don’t blame Nikki. I know she acts a bit rough around the edges but…She’s lovely, really she is. (CIARA wrings her hands in worry) I hope Julian’s okay…Did you hear him? He was new last year. Wandered into class after Christmas, sat down the back and kept to himself. I’d never even heard him speak before–until now, that is. I know Nikki just thinks he’s mental. A Drama Queen, she’d call him, and maybe she’s right but…I don’t know, maybe not.

I mean…We don’t intend to make life meserable for him, you know? We just don’t notice him most days. And Nikki can’t be doing any harm, just talking, can she? She’d never insult him. Not to his face anyway. It’s just a laugh. We’re just a few stupid kids making stupid jokes.

(She pauses thoughtfully)

NIKKI (offstage): Ciara! You coming?

CIARA: Yeah! (To audience) Then again, kids have to grow up sometime, don’t they?

Exeunt

Scene 3

Set changes to classroom scene, with JULIAN, CIARA, NIKKI and a number of other students are getting to their seats. Most are giggling and causing general noise, while JULIAN is carefully organising notes. Enter MR. SWEENEY. The class quietens.

SWEENEY: Morning everyone.

ALL: Morning sir.

SWEENEY: I’m sure you’re all very welcome back and had a wonderful summer, so I won’t bore you wtih pleasantries.

(He picks up a book from his desk and raises it above his head with a flourish)

Othello. Can anyone tell me anything about this play?

CIARA: It’s a work of Shakespeare.

SWEENEY: Right, what else?

BOY: A comedy?

SWEENEY: Well, no. Anyone? Can anyone think of anything else? Something that sets Othello apart from most of Shakespear’s plays?

JULIAN: The hero is black?

SWEENEY: Bingo! The hero of Othello–Othello himself–is black. Unusual for a Shakespearian drama, do you agree?

NIKKI: But in Romeo and Juliet, wasn’t Mercutio black?

SWEENEY: (Smiling) No. Of course Nicola, if you had read the play rather than just watching the Leo Di Caprio flick ten timesbefore the Junior Cert, you would have known that.

(The class laughs quietly)

So, why is the idea of a black protagonist in Othello so bizarre?

CIARA: ‘Cos there was so much discrimination back then?

SWEENEY: Good point. Why though, do you say back then?

CIARA: (shrugs) Well…’cos there was.

(quiet laughter)

SWEENEY: And that’s not the case today? You believe that we live in a society of total racial harmony?

(CIARA shrugs)

Discrimination didn’t just disappear one day in the twentieth century. we are witness to it even now, in our modern world. It lurks in teh sidelines, hides in the wings. It’s universal, and it’s timeless. That is what makes Shakespeare’s works such classics. What we see at the heart of Othello isn’t an old fashioned racism that’s long dead and gone; it is the unfortunate turth that disrimination will be found in every society, no matter how sophisticated, just and tolerant we believe ourselves to be.

(Momentary silence. There is a knock on the door. Enter MS. GREEN, a soft-spoken teacher with a tendency to fidget.)

SWEENEY: Ms. Green, always a pleasure.

GREEN: Thank you Mr. Sweeney, but could i please borrow Julian until the end of class today?

(Sweeney glances at JULIAN, who shifts uncomfortably)

SWEENEY: No problem at all.

(MS. GREEN mutters her thanks as JULIAN prepares to leave. NIKKI and a few other classmates snigger silently.)

BOY: Talk about discrimination, I wish I could get off class that easily.

SWEENEY: (To Julian) Hey! Pay no notice, okay? You’ll find your niche with them soon enough.

JULIAN: (dejectedly) Thanks sir.

Exeunt

Scene 4

Set changes to Ms. Green’s office–a semi-circle of soft chairs and a potted plant. JULIAN and MS. GREEN are already seated in two of the chairs. JULIAN is staring towards the floor.

GREEN: So, new school year. Better make the most of it, eh?

JULIAN: Yes, miss.

GREEN: New knowledge to discover, friends to make, there are endless possibilities, don’t you think?

JULIAN: Yes, miss.

GREEN: (Pauses, unsure what to say) how are you settling in then? Homesick? Struggling with subjects? Peer problems?

JULIAN: (Shrugs) not really.

GREEN: You know, we never did talk about putting you into the multicultural programme here in the school; it’s full of students from all kinds of backgrounds, I’m sure they would be very accepting–

JULIAN: No! I mean: No, no thank you Miss Green. I’m happy where I am. I don’t want any special treatment.

GREEN: Oh, I’m not suggesting special treatment. I was just suggesting a more comfortable environment for you.

(Bell)

GREEN: (Sighs) At least think about it?

JULIAN: (Grabs his bag and scoops books into his arms hurriedly) I will Miss, thanks. I have to go…

Exit JULIAN

GREEN: Have a good day Julian…

Exeunt

Scene 5

Enter Julian alone, cramming books into his bag as he walks to class.

JULIAN: Honestly, sometimes I think the teachers in this place make less sense than the students. Multicultural programme? Ironic isn’t it? They think the only way they can integrate me into this school is to uproot me from my classes and put me in a non-Irish quarantine. I’m just trying to fit in (On these last two words, Julian’s bag falls and spills books all over the stage.)

CHANTING OFFSTAGE: Alright Ciara, are you gonna cry? Oooh ‘Leave him alone, leave him alone’! Boo hoo hoo! (The jeering turns to laughter as CIARA stumbles backwards on stage, facing the source of the voices)

CIARA: Get a life, will you?

(She trips over one of JULIAN’S books and with a scream, falls on top of him.)

CIARA: Oh God, I’m so sorry.

JULIAN: No, no. My fault.

CIARA: Here, I’ll give you a hand.

(She joins him in picking up books. She lifts one up and reads the cover)

Macbeth?

JULIAN : (Snatching the book back) Uh, yes, I’m rereading it.

CIARA: You’ve read Macbeth? I didnt think that you could…Oh I’m sorry, I mean I thought that, being African–

JULIAN: English is my first language. I’ve been reading Shakespeare since I was about thirteen.

CIARA: (nods) It’s one of my favourites.

JULIAN: (surprised) You read Shakespeare too? You seem to have such a busy social life…

CIARA: I find the time to most days. I know my mates don’t really seem the bookish type but people can surprise you, you know?

JULIAN: There’s no art to find the mind’s construction in the face.

CIARA: Exactly. (Pauses for thought) You know, you’re always so quiet in class. You must have so many stories about Africa. ABout your home, and coming here…

JULIAN: (Shrugs) I guess I have, the same as anyone really.

CIARA: A few of us are heading down to the cafe in a second, would you like to come?

(Julian shrugs hesitantly)

They’d like you, really. Looks can be deceiving, remember?

JULIAN: I really don’t think I should…Homework, you know?

CIARA: Suit yourself. We’ll be at the school gate if you change your mind. Five minutes, okay?

Exit CIARA

JULIAN: (Sighs, opens Macbeth and sits down and adresses audience) I did the right thing. They wouldn’t like me…I’ve been here a whole year and they hardly know me. It’s a waste of time. Then again…No. There’s no point inventing false hope. For all I know that was all a set up; an excuse for them to point and laugh at me outside a classroom setting.

(He stands up and begins to pace up and down in thought)

Five minutes. I’ll regret it, either way, you know. I stay: I confine myself to another year of solitude. I go: If I go, who knows? If I don’t try…Well, I suppose I’ll never know.

Well, here goes nothing.

Ciara! Hey, all of you, wait up!

(Julian grabs his things and runs offstage, bag flailing behind him. The stage darkens.)

FIN