FROM THE BLACK WE HEAR-COLTRANE (O.S.) The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun. Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people. FADE IN: INT. COLTRANE'S BEDROOM - MORNING - FLASHBACK Coltrane, 17, a first generation Liberian. He is brilliant and on the verge of manhood. He stares in the mirror as he recites MY PEOPLE by LANGSTON HUGHES. He laces up his worn-down Chuck Taylor shoes. He checks his violin before closing the case. He rubs shea butter on his hands and face. He takes a final look at his reflection and grabs an old tattered copy of Fine Clothes to the Jew by Langston Hughes. He heads into the -
Aint I A Man LLC LIVING ROOM
COLEMAN WOTORSON, a 40 something, Liberian immigrant. Strong and proud with a formidable presence. He reads The Destruction of Black Civilization by Chancellor Williams. Coltrane walks past him to the front door. COLEMAN Coltrane. LATER Coleman sits across from his son. COLEMAN You're older now and sooner or later you'll find yourself alone with a girl you like. You're a young man and it's only natural to feel what you'll be feeling in that moment. (Clears his throat) I'm just going to ask you to do a few simple things, alright? (Off Coltrane's nod)