Little Lark of London

Recently, I had the chance to speak with June Carryl about her show, Blue, which delves into the relationship between LAPD Detective LaRhonda Parker and her husband’s ex-partner, Sully, who shot an unarmed black motorcyclist at a traffic stop. Should Parker protect “one of her own?” Or should she investigate and potentially destroy her relationships with her husband and coworkers? June and I discussed the influence of the murder of George Floyd, policing in the United States and the United Kingdom, and what she hopes audiences will take away from Blue.

How did you come up with the concept of Blue?

Following the murder of George Floyd, I wrote a poem, “I am,” about the persistence of my existence as a Black woman – of Black people. I knew there would be a play, though, after the riot on January 6th. The two were inextricably linked in my eyes: the idea of power, and the illusion that white people are losing theirs, and what some are willing to do to keep it.

There is an authoritarian impulse that drives far too many into policing who should not be there to my mind (I’ve got a couple of family members and acquaintances in law enforcement – wouldn’t want to deal with them in a policing situation – black, white doesn’t matter). There’s a need for control that extends beyond the perfectly human desire for control over one’s destiny. That same need drove the people on the National Mall. Trump just gave it a name. Both extend from fear.

History is catching up to the West and cognizance of that fact for what passed for the past 2,000 years as subjectivity (i.e. cis straight white western man) has gotten confused with a fear of extinction. The people on that mall in January two years ago are like children learning they’re about to get a baby brother or sister and tantrumming, “What about me?” Really, all that’s happened is that people of colour, women, LGBTQIA+ are simply asserting our Selves.

I had the gift of an opportunity to write a play in a workshop at Echo Theater Company in Hollywood, and eleven months later I had a play.

What kind of research did you do into policing in the US and UK?

I dove into police violence against Black and Brown bodies in the US, and on the mechanisms for investigating officer-involved fatalities. A defence attorney from Chicago who attended one of the readings was kind enough to chat with me. I didn’t do as much research on policing in the UK, though I was aware of cases like that of Sarah Everard (despite which, apparently the latest is that British policing has lost its way by going “woke”). The origins of American policing are different, certainly: the institution was born out of the slave patrols here. However, the race problem is somewhat the same.

Do you have any recommendations for what people can do to learn more about the policing situation?

Read up. There’s a lot online. The Police Violence Report catalogues trends in police violence in the US. The American Civil Liberties Union has a Community Action Manual. Amnesty International serves as a resource for studying trends on a global scale.

How were you able to narrow everything you wanted to say into a single policy custody death?

I think you have to. Statistics can inform conversation, but a conversation, I think, asks for a distillation. I guess it’s that thing you learn in school about inductive versus deductive reasoning. You take a look at one thing and spin out conclusions from there. You can let other cases inform – Lord knows, there are plenty that demonstrate a trend – but yeah, I think it’s just the way my brain works. Otherwise, you just end up with a polemic.

Has your opinion on policing changed since writing Blue?

Honestly, having gotten the chance to talk to victims of police violence who came to the show, to folks currently in law enforcement, and groups dealing with the fallout – I have a friend who was a prosecutor who told me it really is that way; made friends with a Black woman detective, same thing – unfortunately, my opinion has gotten worse.

I wrote the play, in part, to understand the other side. I saw something, observed something, and needed to play it out and see if what I was seeing and feeling made sense because I can’t fight what I don’t understand. I am glad the play feels balanced and that there is a kind of sympathy for both sides, but it sucks to be right sometimes.

What kind of conversations did you have with John Colella to prepare for Blue?

We talked with our director, Michael Matthews, mostly about the friendship between the two characters. Michael and John were really instrumental during the play’s development in steering me toward the personal relationship between these two people. Otherwise, it’s just a procedural and we know how it’s going to go down. Really, it was always about the lost friendship and love. 

What is it like performing in a show that you’ve created?

I’ve gotten to do it a couple of times and it’s still a bit surreal and out of body. I don’t feel quite as exposed anymore, which is nice, so it just gets to be about the work. It’s also self-serving because it’s fun to say what I think out loud sometimes. Though at other times, I think, “Oh, that’s what that feels like? Huh, I should fix that.” In a strange way, it helps me rewrite.

What do you hope audiences take away from Blue?

I hope people take away a bit of empathy. I hope audiences are uncomfortable with their own assumptions and biases, but also that there is a curiosity about what it’s like to be on the receiving end of being invisible. It’s not just hate we have to fight. We have to fight this idea that if it doesn’t happen to me, it isn’t happening; if it isn’t real for me, it isn’t real. Maybe if we can keep having those conversations, we can change things for the better for everyone.

How would you describe Blue in one word?

Uncomfortable.

Blue will be performed at the Edinburgh Festival at 5.05pm in Assembly George Square (The Box) from 2nd – 28th August (Not 9th ). To book, visit https://assemblyfestival.com/whats-on/blue 

Photo Credit: David Adly Garcia