Peggy: It’s just… I know what ballet’s all about.
Tim: (Tim backs away from Peggy. He looks out, into the distance - not at her, but at the trees around them. His voice is steady at first, but there’s pain hidden underneath.) You say you know ballet… how to dance on a polished wooden floor, leaping and twirling to music. That’s what your kind does. That’s good. But me? I know corroboree. I know the beat of the forest’s heart - steady and strong. I feel the didgeridoo’s rhythm rising up through my chest, like smoke from a fire. And I know my people’s footsteps - ancient, proud - dancing across this land long before you and your kind ever set foot on it. I know the paint - the ochre that shows our stories. The movements. The spirit. The land where each and every step tells something different. Something ancient. I feel when a storm’s coming - in the way the gum trees creak. Not from your forecasts and maps, but from the land itself. I hear the bees, the way they hum when they drink from the bush flowers. The land tells stories. Hides secrets. The land speaks… but you and your kind don’t know how to listen. The land speaks to me. It speaks to us - not in English, not in Dharug - but in a way that’s always been there, and always will be. That’s my dance. That’s my history. That’s who I am. And you… you said you wanted to understand. Your kind will never understand… they’ll never understand what it’s like to be called different because of the colour of your skin. To be picked at and teased for your culture, your tradition… something you were taught to be proud of. Your kind will never understand what it’s like to go through half the hardships my people have to go through. You said you wanted to be my friend. But now... just now, you’ve shown me what you really meant. It felt like everything I’ve shared with you didn’t matter. Like I’m just another boy with skin darker than yours. Just another voice you can walk away from when things get too hard for you. (He finally looks at her.) Peggy, I wanted to believe you were different. I really did. Something about you stood out from the beginning… But maybe - just maybe - you’re like all of the other Wadjellas after all. (He turns away, letting the weight of his words settle.)
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125,021 Literary Works • 672,740 Reviews
Hello!!! While usually this platform is used as a "comfort escape" from politics for many others, it is refreshing for works that tackle on race and racism to be published here! I love that this work doesn't try to make the boy's feelings "palatable", in the sense that they aren't so washed down for the sake of the non-indigenous readers.
The trauma from the racism, and that resulting in generalizing all non-indigenous people, are all genuine parts of being so deeply affected by racism, and it's (genuinely, like seriously) refreshing that aspect of being a victim of racism is approached in a sympathetic way—because yeah, she may be an individual, but regardless of all, she carries privilege from the system that benefits *her*, not him. Regardless of all, she is yet another person who is conditioned by the system meant to benefit her, and that alone results in ignorance that contribute to stereotypes & beliefs about indigenous peoples that harm them.
However. Well, I'm unsure if Tim does speaks so articulate in the original piece because I've never heard of it until now. While I am aware the bio says this is original monologue, I'm not sure if it's based on how Tim genuinely speaks. Though, his dialogue almost reads as someone who is placed as an educator for the audience than a teen boy experiencing trauma. It comes across as his feelings must be wrapped up in articulate, flowery language to incite sympathy for the audience when the fact he's a teen boy experiencing racism and being vulnerable about that should be enough to be heavy on its own. This doesn't feel as raw as it should be, but more cautious and "pretty".
While I do applaud this writing not treating racism as a topic so lightly and it giving some sympathy for Tom, the writing is still off, and because its so "perfect" and "grand", the writing skews towards not humanizing him as much as it should. While yes, he is humanized here, he could be more humanized!
Other than that, this is really good! The prose is very good, despite how it can be perceived as off or odd for this case. Despite my criticisms, I definitely felt for (and to an extent, understood) him, especially as someone who is a person of color myself. Keep writing!!!
hi there! :]
I've never read Honey Spot, but I can pick up on several themes from reading this monologue! Tim is facing a lot of disillusionment and alienation from his peers--especially from Peggy, who, I assume, is someone he used to consider his friend--and he is caught in between what he wants and what he knows is harmful to him. I'm not sure how old these characters are, but if they are coming-of-age / adolescent, that makes the conflict even stronger. That is a critical time to figure out who you are and what you wish to do, so it's a rough spot to be in!
Tim's connection to his culture is what adds realism to this too; he references these different cultural ideas that are stark when compared to Peggy's life, e.g. ballet, didgeridoo, footsteps. He isn't afraid to confront systemic racism and microaggressions, and that is really commendable to see! I don't think a lot of dramatic monologues approach those subjects head on from a perspective that has lived through those marginalizations.
It's written in the description that Tim is a young boy, but I am unsure that a 'young boy' would realistically be this articulate. Young is relative and hard to ostensibly define, *but* if he is in elementary school, for example, he likely couldn't express the ideas that Tim did here. I don't know much about young children, but they are known to think egocentrically. He wouldn't be able to express things like "It felt like everything I’ve shared with you didn’t matter," because with that frame of mind, it mattered because he was involved in it.
For this to be a *personal* monologue, Tim does a lot of overgeneralizing. He uses phrases like 'your kind' repeated throughout--which could be intentional!--and I think that reduces Peggy / all non-Indigenous people into a monolith. Peggy was referred to as someone he trusted and thought was different, so there had to be some kind of relationship between them! You could allow Tim’s disappointment to remain personal to Peggy rather than fully extending it to all Wadjellas, since that defeats the purpose of him feeling alienated or looked past because of things out of his control.
I hope this helps!
lina