Jorge and I are both new immigrants. I was born and raised in Singapore while it was still a British crown colony and Jorge is from Mexico. I wrote this story in response to the President’s revocation of DACA in the Fall of 2017.
Immigration is vitally embedded in Jorge’s and my DNA. For those Americans who’ve been here since the Mayflower, it’s also in their DNA, though it may not be as obvious to them. The opera deals with the devastation current policy wreak on immigrant families, many of whom have built lives in the United States for decades. It explores the current immigration crisis from different perspectives within the immigrant community, a community that is not an undifferentiated bloc. Immigrants are more often than not pitted against each other by the vagaries of the law. This has led to discord within the community, draining it of the strength of unity. The issue has taken on particular urgency as Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agency’s (ICE) tentacles have extended to everyone, not just immigrants from Central and South America, Mexico, etc that the general public associates (wrongly) with crime, gaming the system, unfairly taking jobs from Americans . . . It was a wake-up call in one of the bluest of Blue states (Massachusetts) when John Cunningham, an Irish dreamer who came to America 18 years ago and who owns a pub employing many Americans, recently got a visit from ICE at dinnertime at his home. He was taken away in handcuffs, imprisoned and has been deported without a hearing.
[The curtain rises on a small jail cell. Rosa sits on a bench.]
Singa [approaching Rosa in her holding cell. She glances at a piece of paper in her hand]
Rosa? Rosa? Rosa?
[No reaction from Rosa]
Rosa Hernandez?
[Still no reaction]
Singa
I’m Singa Loh, your court-appointed attorney
We need to talk
[Silence]
Singa
Rosa? Rosa? Rosa?
It says here you’re from Mexico
I was in Cancun once…
[Rosa glares at her]
Rosa? Rosa?
I’m here to help you.
Right now, I’m the only friend you have Rosa?
[Rosa turns her back squarely to Singa to shut her out.]
Rosa? Rosa? Rosa? Are you listening?
Do you speak English?
[Silence]
Singa
The demonstration you organized
To protest the forcible separation from their parents
Turned into a riot
And arson
A firefighter died
The Prosecutor is charging you with
Felony-murder
Rosa [bursting out in shock]
What . . . what
What murder?
I didn’t kill anyone
I just organized the March for Dreams Which some fascists disrupted
Singa
A firefighter died
Trying to put out the fires
Started by the protesters
That’s arson, a felony
And the firefighter’s death, felony-murder
Rosa [still in shock]
I didn’t know
I’m so sorry, so sad for his family
But it’s a set up by the Alt Right
You have to get me out of here
I’m undocumented
They’re going to call ICE to deport me
Singa
I’ll do what I can for you
Immigration law isn’t my specialty
I’m a corporate lawyer
Your case is non-billable, pro bono
I’m only doing it to discharge my annual
Pro bono obligations to the Court
Let’s start at the beginning
Are you employed?
Rosa
I have a landscaping company
It had 50 members
An informal union
I’m the only one left
The others have been deported
Singa
You?
You have a company?
Rosa [ironically]
Is that so hard to believe?
The government won’t give me a green card But loves to collect my taxes
Gringos love to hire us
We work hard, never complain
And they don’t have to pay social security
Singa [exasperatedly]
Rosa, you should have kept your head down
Instead of burning down bridges
Instead of banging on walls
Rosa [angrily]
I’m going to break down every wall
To keep my family together
To protect my daughter, Sol
She’s now all alone
I’m worried sick
Imagine how you’d feel if you
Were separated from your daughter
Singa
I can imagine . . .
Rosa
She wants to be a lawyer
Not like you
But someone who can help people like me
Stay in America
Singa
I’m going to ignore that
Let’s start at the beginning Rosa, when did you come here?
Rosa
I came to America when I was ten
This is home
Singa
(I also came to America when I was ten
Is this home?)
Rosa
I am a Dreamer
Marching for the dream which began
Twenty-four years ago When dreams of freedom
Were thrust into a frightened child’s mind
Singa
I’ve never had a dream
Been too afraid to dream
A model minority
Head down, chin low
Mouth shut, ears closed
Eyes blinkered
Rosa
Head high, chin raised
Don’t blink
Eyes wide open
The way Mama taught me
Singa
The way Mama taught me
Rosa
We were never free back home
Always afraid, looking over our shoulder I dreamed the American dream
But it’s always out of reach
Singa
We were never free back home
Always afraid, looking over our shoulder
I dreamed the American dream
I think I seized it
Rosa
I’m not free here either
Singa
But I don’t think I’m free here either
Rosa [Dreamer Aria]
Who am I, now?
What happened along the way?
What happened to my dreams
Of being the first to go to college?
I will never become the someone I dreamed of
Who could give my family a better life
How did I lose my dreams?
How did I end up here?
I am a Dreamer who no longer dreams
But I cherish that dream for our children
Who dream a dream
So pure, so sweet?
Untainted by broken promises
That blight the desert rose
[The scene fades to the memories of Rosa and Singa as they recall the events precipitating their migration. This section is modular. Child Rosa and Child Singa may be sung by children or by the soprano and mezzo singing Rosa and Singa. The Gang Member is common to both scenes, simultaneously singing to Rosa and to Singa – the magic of opera!]
[Rosa recalls her ten-year-old self hiding in a closet. Her home is minimally furnished with used furniture on a concrete floor. A gangster is upending furniture and brandishing a gun. She walks over to the closet, yanks open the door and discovers the child inside]
[Singa recalls her ten-year-old self hiding in a closet. Her home is typical of an upper-middle-class family with ornate furniture. A gangster is upending furniture and brandishing a gun. She walks over to the closet, yanks open the door and discovers the child inside]
Gang Member [this is simultaneously happening in parallel scene with Rosa and Singa]
Hello? Hello? Hello?
Hi
[Silence]
What’s your name?
You won’t tell me your name?
[Silence]
I asked for your name
Listen kid, when I ask a question
You answer
Or I’ll cut off your tongue
With a little snip snip
Then you’ll have an excuse
Not to answer Clear, Heh?
Now, what’s your name?
Rosa
Rosa . . .
Singa
Singa . . .
Gang Member
That’s better
I’m looking for your father? Is he here?
[Silence]
[angrily] Look, I used to be a little girl too
[She sees the music box]
With a music box like yours
[The Gang Member picks up the music box and winds it. A lullaby chimes out]
Ah, music from the past
Mama brushed my hair each day
And tied it up in knots
She threaded me a red, red ribbon
And sent me on my way
“To school, to school,” she sang
“To be someone someday”
When I came home from school one day
The flames were red, red high
Burning, burning down my home
With Mama and Papa inside
“Tyger, tyger burning bright”
The flames they raged and hissed
The Tiger with the yellow eyes
Grabbed me by the hand
“Little girl,” he growled
“You’re mine now, girl
You’re mine now, body and soul.”
“Snip, snip, snip snip
Snip snippety snip,” he sang
As he snipped off my long black hair
The hair Mama brushed each day . . .
[The music box chimes fade away]
I asked you a question!
Where’s your father?
Snip, snip, snipsnipsnip
Rosa and Singa
Papa’s not here
Gang Member
When will he be back?
Rosa and Singa
Don’t know
Gang Member
Where does he keep the money?
Rosa and Singa
Don’t know, don’t know
Gang Member [to both Rosa and Singa]
Your Papa owes us protection money
[to Singa] Listen Singa, commie chinks
like you need to pay protection
To do business in Jakarta
Singa [weeping fearfully]
But our shop’s closed
Gang Member [to Rosa]
Listen Rosa, your father needs to pay protection
Or plant poppies for the Cartel
Rosa [weeping fearfully]
But our crops are gone
Gang Member [to both Rosa and Singa]
Silver or lead, silver or lead
The next time I come over
This bullet will be in your head
And the second one in his!
[She fires a shot through the wall and leaves. Rosa huddles sobbing on the ground.]
[The scene transitions back to the jail]
Rosa
I need to stay in America
I have to stay in America
The land we farmed back home
Is red with the blood of poppies
Singa
Everyone would like to stay in America
Rosa
You’re one of the lucky ones
Singa
No, not lucky
I fought to stay
I used the law
Rosa
I fought to stay
But the law used me
It forces me to hide in the dark
Like a mole living underground
Cheap labor that grows your food
That cares for your children
I need to live in America
I need to stay in America
My home is here in America
But America wants me gone
[Singa stares thoughtfully at Rosa. Her cell phone rings, interrupting her thoughts.]
Singa [looks at the caller ID]
Excuse me, I have to take this
[She gets up and walks to the side of the cell for a little privacy]
Singa
Mama, this is not a good time
Singa’s mother
Your father’s asking when you’re coming home to change his bandages
Singa
The nurse is doing that
Singa’s mother [exasperatedly]
It’s something you should be doing
He feels you’re abandoning him when he’s old and sick
Singa
I would do it, but I’m at work now
Singa’s mother
We came to America
To give you a better life
Where we would not be despised
As we were in Indonesia
You’ve changed
You’re not the daughter we raised
[She hangs up.]
Rosa [desperately]
Give me your phone
Singa
What . . .
Rosa
Please . . .
I have to call my daughter, Sol
She must be sick worrying
Whether I’ll be coming home
[Singa hesitantly hands over her phone. Rosa dials frantically.]
Rosa
Yes, yes, mama’s fine, Sol
You have . . .
[Rosa is interrupted by the yelling of the guard]
Guard’s Voice [shouted]
Hey you, you’re not allowed to use the phone
[To Singa] You take that phone back or I’ll take it away.
Rosa [frantically to Sol]
If I don’t come back You know the drill . . .
[Singa retrieves her phone]
[As the music chimes, the scene fades to the memories of Rosa and Singa. They remember the day they left their old homes forever to make a new life in America.]
[Rosa recalls her ten-year-old self sitting despairingly on the bare concrete floor next to her backpack. Her room is shabby but bright and clean. Clothes, old toys, and various knick-knacks are strewn all over.]
Rosa [tearfully]
I don’t want to leave my home
[Similarly, Singa recalls her ten-year-old self sitting despairingly on a plush rug by an open suitcase. The room is filled with Chinese antiques and the accouterments of an upper-middle-class life. Singa’s dresser drawers are open.]
Singa [sighing]
I don’t want to leave my home
Rosa and Singa
Mama says
Rosa
I can’t take my doll
Singa
My brocade birthday dress won’t fit
Rosa and Singa
Or my music box
[now sobbing] I don’t want to leave
Don’t know why I have to
[Mother enters.]
Mother
Are you ready, child?
Bring only what you can carry
Rosa
Why do we have to leave, Mama?
I don’t want to
Mother
O Rosa, we cannot live in the crossfire
Between the Alvarez and Xavier gangs
They will kill us because we refuse to join them
Rosa, we’re like Carandai, the Mayan princess You know her story
Rosa
Yes, Mama
Mother
Would you like to hear it again?
Rosa
Yes, mama
[Rosa stops crying as her mother begins to tell the story of Carandai]
Mother
Carandai had a golden voice
Which the King desired
He ordered her to sing for him
But the King she did defy
Enraged, the King locked her up
In the darkest dungeon
But the avenging
Sunburst forth
And struck his castle down
The King dropped dead and next to him
A golden sunflower grew
The golden sun come down to earth
A covenant for me and you
Singa [tearfully]
Why do we have to leave, Mama?
I don’t want to leave
Mother
O Singa, we’re a despised minority
Easy targets, scapegoats for purges
Accused of being communists, an excuse to kill us
Singa, we’re following your father’s instruction
Like the ancient Seventh Fairy
You know her story?
Singa
Yes, Mama
Mother
Would you like to hear it again?
Singa
Yes, Mama
[Singa stops crying as her mother begins to tell the story of the Seventh Fairy]
Mother
The Seventh Fairy met a mortal man
Trying to sell his soul
“My father’s dead,” he said
“I have to pay for his funeral”
Deeply moved, she gave him fairy gold
And took him as her lover
Until her father summoned her back to Heaven
Separating the lovers forever
Once a year, the lovers meet
In the middle of the Milky Way
Two bright stars lighting the night sky
Until they have to say goodbye
Rosa and Singa
I don’t want to leave my home
Mama says
Rosa
I can’t take my doll
Singa
My brocade birthday dress won’t fit
Rosa and Singa
Or my music box
I don’t want to leave . . .
[The scene transitions back to the jail]
Rosa [sizing Singa up]
We are the underground economy
Used to doing the work
No one else will do
You use us too, don’t you?
We look after your father
Clean your house
Mow your lawn . . .
Singa
My help . . .
I don’t know if they’re illegal
I never asked
Rosa
Don’t ask, don’t tell
Has another meaning for us
Now everybody asks, everybody tells
Singa [guiltily]
I pay cash
To Ee Mo to look after my parents
To Evie to clean my house
And Manuel to mow my lawn
Without giving a thought
To how Ee Mo, Evie or Manuel live
When Manuel did not show up last week I wondered . . . and cursed the dandelions
That danced crazily in my yard
Rosa
His name is Manuel Lopez Corona
My friend and a member of my union
He was detained by ICE on his way back from work
He was deported without a hearing
Singa
Oh god, Rosa
I cursed the dandelions
I yelled at them, “You’re fired!”
Not knowing Manuel can never come back . . .
Rosa
ICE shows up at home
ICE shows up at work
ICE stops you on the street
ICE stops you in your car
We wear our dirty clothes
To avoid the laundromat
We buy canned food
To avoid the supermarkets
Singa
Evie does my laundry
In the washer and dryer stacked neatly
In my basement
My clothes are never dirty
Impeccably starched and ironed
Rosa
We prepare our children for the day
When mama doesn’t come home
We say “goodbye” for real when we leave for work
For we may never see each other again
Singa
Goodbye for real
Not just a peck on the cheek
Not just fussing about missing homework
But real fear of being parted forever
Rosa
I gave my daughter, Sol, a list of telephone numbers
I said, “If Mama doesn’t come home
Call these numbers
Someone will come for you, I promise”
I update the list, crossing out names
As each person on the list is deported
There’s no one left on this list
O my God, Singa . . .
I’ve promised Sol someone will come for her
When I can no longer come home
But there’s no one left . . .
Yes, ICE squeezes our hearts
Until they burst
Our hearts burst
Singa
My heart bursts Squeezed by your pain
Our lives seem worlds apart
But we’re only separated
By a small piece of plastic –
A green card
Rosa
Am I reduced to a piece of plastic?
Or rather, to not having a piece of plastic?
A three and one quarter by two-inch piece of plastic?
Singa
A three and one quarter by two-inch piece of plastic
A small green card
Rosa
How can twenty-four years shrink down
Into a tiny piece of plastic?
Plastic I throw out every day
By the pound, by the bag . . .
A tiny piece of plastic
Out of the 5 billion tons
Now blanketing the earth
Singa
Which keeps people like us from being thrown out
Of America
A tiny piece of plastic
Out of the 5 billion tons
Now blanketing the earth
Rosa
Doesn’t it make a difference
That we’re human beings?
Doesn’t it count for something
That we’re Americans in our hearts?
Singa
Nothing makes a difference
Without that little plastic card
You’re out of luck
[The scene transitions to Rosa and Singa’s memories of their first days in their new country, America.]
[Rosa recalls her ten-year old self lying in bed in the dark. Her room is tiny in a basement. Her suitcase is open on the floor.]
Rosa [sobbing]
Where’s the sun?
I used to awaken to its happy rays
Why am I in this dark basement?
Why can’t I stop shivering?
[Singa recalls her ten-year old self sitting despairingly on an unmade bed in her new home in America. She has a typical middle class room with a chest of drawers, matching rug and bedsheets.]
Singa [sobbing]
What is this?
[holding up a fitted sheet]
Where’s my bed of coir
I beat each morning with a sapu lidi
A stick broom, to sweep away wrinkles?
Rosa
Mama said we can’t keep battling the drug lords
We’d have a better life in America
But I’m sick for the desert winds
The red desert roses
My church choir Rejoicing on Sundays
Singa
Mama said it’s hard to be a minority back home
We’d have a better life in America
But I’m sick for the warm wet winds
The Flame of the Forest
The satay man
Calling on the streets
Rosa and Singa
Don’t tell Mama
But I’m so homesick
America will never be home
I want to go home
[The scene cuts back to the jail]
Rosa and Singa
I am home
Here in America
I don’t remember where I was born
I remember my first days in school
Here in America
Rosa
I was taught the Pledge of Allegiance
Singa
We said the Pledge of Allegiance every morning
Rosa
I pledge allegiance to the flag of . . .
Singa
. . . the United States of America
Rosa
And to the republic for which it stands . . .
Singa
. . one nation under God
Rosa
Indivisible . . .
Singa
. . . with liberty and justice for all
Rosa
With liberty and justice for all?
We said these words everyday
Singa
Every day we said these words
Rosa
Not understanding we were not Americans
Singa
Even though we were not Americans
Rosa and Singa
Giving ourselves to our new country
Singa
At first mindlessly, childishly
Rosa
Then with the dawning knowledge
Rosa and Singa
That we live in the freest country in the world
Rosa
But what we didn’t know
Was that this country we grew to love
Did not love us in return
Singa
What we didn’t realize
Was that this country we call home
Is divided
Rosa and Singa
America has crept into the immigrant soul
Freedom has infiltrated the immigrant brain
Rosa
And our children, our children
Singa
And our children, our children
Rosa and Singa
They dream fiercely of the promise of America
They believe that if they dream it
It will be real
Rosa
This morning I was making breakfast
For my daughter, Sol
We argued about her American ways
I said, “No, you can’t sleepover at Lisa’s tonight”
You have to go to Spanish class
So you’ll be fluent if we’re deported”
Singa
My father had a similar argument with my nephew,
Kim, who’s like a son to me
He said, “You’re going to Chinese class after school
Perhaps that’ll make you more Chinese”
Guess what Kim said?
Rosa
I know what he said
Rosa and Singa
“I’m an American
Born in America
Rosa
You’re so . . . you’re so out of touch
Singa
You’re so . . . you’re so feudal
Rosa and Singa
We shouldn’t be classified.”
[The two women look at each other and seem to see each other for the first time. They laugh.]
Singa
We said, “Race matters
History matters
You’ll always be classified
You think America will treat you right But it’ll strike you down
When you’re not looking”
Rosa
I said the same thing
“Race matters
History matters
You’re always being classified
You think America will treat you right
But it’ll strike you down
When you’re not looking”
Singa
Then Kim said
“Eating fish heads and chicken feet
Does not make me Chinese”
Rosa, I eat fish heads
I eat chicken feet
Is that what makes me Chinese?
Does being American mean
You’re nothing in particular
Just a stew of fish heads
Mixed with hot dogs
Arugula and garlic frogs?
Rosa
I guess I’m a stew of rice and beans
Mixed with chili peppers
Hamburgers and salsa
[The women laugh again, warming up to each other]
Singa and Rosa
Sing a song to the old country
A home no longer to be
A land we left long ago
Which lives only in memory
Sing a song to our new country
Where we struggle to make ourselves anew
Mourning the loss of identity
Trying to fit in, hoping to be free
Singa
We’re the in-between people
Home is everywhere
Home is nowhere
Rosa
Yet our children . . .
They are Americans
And this is their home
[The Prosecutor enters]
Prosecutor
Attorney Singa Loh?
Kelly O’Malley, Assistant District Attorney
[Singa rises and shakes her hand]
Singa
This is my client, Rosa Hernandez
Prosecutor
Yes, we’ve met
She refused to talk to me
Without her attorney
Asserting her legal rights, she said
Singa
Kelley, you can’t be serious about the felony-murder charge
We need to . . .
[Singa’s cell phone rings again. She glances at it]
Singa
Sorry, I need a minute
[She walks to one side for privacy]
Singa
Mother, not now
I . . . I’m not sure when I will be home
I’ll have to call you back
[Singa hangs up.]
Singa
I was saying, you can’t be serious about the felony-murder charge
We need to talk about this
Prosecutor
The March for Dreams your client organized
Ended with arson and a dead firefighter
Arson started by your client and her friends
That’s felony murder
Rosa
That was some Neo-Nazi bastard
Trying to stir up trouble for us
Prosecutor [To Rosa]
Give me the names of your compadres
And I’ll drop the charges
Better still, I won’t call ICE
They won’t know you exist
[To Singa]
Your client is a “community activist”
She knows everyone in the Mexican community
I want the names of those who marched with her
Those activists who started the fire with her
[To Rosa]
They ran away, left you holding the bag
You tell me who they are
I’ll let you go without reporting you to ICE
You can walk out of her
Just like this [she snaps her fingers]
With a little snip snip snip
[Silence as the women digest this offer]
Prosecutor
And by the way, Rosa
You’ll continue to work for me
As an informant
But you’ll be free
Snip snip
Singa
And if she doesn’t cooperate?
Prosecutor
Maximum penalty of life imprisonment
If she doesn’t get the max
She’ll be deported by ICE
After she’s served her sentence
Take the deal, Rosa
Sing for me and you’ll be free
Rosa
Free? Like a dog chained to you is free!
You do not know Carandai
Prosecutor
Is Carandai another upstart illegal like you?
Rosa
Carandai had a golden voice
Which the King desired
He ordered her to sing for him
But the King she did defy
Enraged, the King locked her up
In the darkest dungeon
But the avenging Sun burst forth
And struck his castle down
The King dropped dead and next to him
A golden sunflower grew
The golden sun come down to earth
A covenant for me and you
Rosa [spitting out the words]
I will never sing for you!
Prosecutor
We’ll see
[The Prosecutor leaves; we hear her off stage]
Prosecutor [spoken]
We need a Wall
To keep these people from those shit hole countries out
They don’t speak American
They’re not Americans, never will be . . .
Singa
Rosa, talk to me
Rosa
It’s a long story
Too long for you
My case is pro bono, remember
Every minute you spend with me
Is a minute you’re not billing
Singa
I . . . I didn’t mean it the way it came out
Rosa
It came out loud and clear
Singa
I’m sorry, OK
I’ve just got so much going on
Rosa
Yeah, well
I’ve got nothing going on
Other than a felony-murder charge
Deportation . . .
[Singa’s cell phone rings again. She looks at the caller ID and then firmly turns it off.]
Rosa
Your father will be furious
Singa [shrugging]
Listen, Rosa
I know you don’t like me
I’m not asking you to like me
But to let me help you
We’re both immigrants
With a shared history
Separated by privilege, laws, misconceptions
Rosa
You despise me
Singa
No, I’m afraid of you
Afraid that immigrants like you
Will stir up hatred
Against immigrants like me
Rosa [bitterly]
I’m a rat in a trap
Unless I rat
You know what happens if I rat
Singa [shaking her head gently]
Why don’t you tell me?
Rosa
There are twenty-nine other activists
If I rat
Twenty-nine families will be ruined
Fathers, mothers, husbands, wives
Will be jailed, deported . . .
And what of their American born children?
Stay here alone or go to a country they’ve never seen?
Singa
If you don’t give them up
You’ll stay in jail for life
Or be deported
You will be separated from Sol
Forever
Rosa [breaking down in despair]
What will happen to my daughter, my dear Sol?
I’ve been over this so many times
Arguing with myself
Arguing with Sol
Shall I leave her in America
To be the lawyer she dreams of
Or take her to Mexico
Leaving her dreams behind?
What if ICE finds out about her?
They’ll put her in a detention camp
Lost forever in the system
Singa
You’re strong, Rosa
You’ll do the right thing
Rosa [angrily]
What do you know about the right thing?
You’ve never had to decide
Whether to give up your child
Singa [softly]
I gave up my child
Rosa
What . . .
Singa
I gave up my child
A beautiful girl child
With perfect little fingers
And ten tiny toes
I named her “Yong Yuan”
Which means “Forever”
Loved forever
Remembered forever
Regretted forever
Yearned for, forever
I gave up my child
A beautiful girl child With hair of downy fuzz
And puckered pink lips
When they came for her
I breathed her sweet-milk breath
The white-clad nurse pried open my fists
The black-suited lawyer wrenched her away
And I have been weeping forever, for Forever
Her name is “Yong Yuan”
It means “Forever”
Rosa
I . . . I’m so sorry, Singa
Singa
No, I’m the one who’s sorry
Sorry forever
I fell in love with Robert
When we were freshmen in college
I got pregnant
An interracial marriage
“Impossible!”
An illegitimate biracial baby
“Unthinkable!”
“Half breed,” he said
“Pariah . . .”
Rosa
Singa . . .
[They embrace each other fiercely. Singa gently takes Rosa’s face in her hands]
Singa
You’ll survive this, Rosa
You grew up with Carandai
As for me, I grew up with the Seventh Fairy
The dutiful filial daughter . . .
And my daughter was taken from me
The Seventh Fairy met a mortal man
Trying to sell his soul
“My father’s dead,” he said
“I have to pay for his funeral”
Deeply moved, she gave him fairy gold
And took him as her lover
But her father summoned her back to Heaven
To fulfill her fairy duties
Once a year, the lovers meet
In the middle of the Milky Way
Two bright stars lighting the night sky
Until they have to say goodbye
Singa [bitterly]
Time after time, I’ve wondered why
The Seventh Fairy didn’t just take her lover’s hand
And walk with him to the other end
Of the Milky Way
To be with him, forever
Rosa
Why didn’t she, Singa?
Singa
“I don’t know, Singa
This is how the story has always ended.”
That’s what my mother said when I asked
But I know now, Rosa
I know why the Seventh Fairy
Didn’t cross over to her lover’s side
Rosa
Tell me
Singa
Thirty-four years of brainwashing
That’s why
Thirty-four years of preaching
Of teaching and reinforcing
Beautiful tragic myths like the Seventh Fairy
The Seventh Fairy bestowed on me
And generations of women like me
Unyielding filial piety
Unflinching self-abnegation
Unquestioning reverence for authority
We’re fated to stay forever
Within boundaries set by men
Rosa, I’m the Seventh Fairy
Who’s never fought for her destiny
And lost her child
Rosa
You will fight now
Your eyes are open now
Singa
I lie awake wondering
Is she happy?
What lullabies are sung to her?
What stories told?
Is she another Seventh Family?
It’s too late for me, Rosa
I’ve lost Yong Yuan, forever
Rosa
Not forever
Go find her
It’s not too late
Singa
How do I tell her
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”
Rosa
You’ll tell her you’ve never stopped loving her
That you’ll never stop loving her
Just as I tell Sol every day
When we say goodbye
Singa
My heart breaks for you and Sol
You know, Yong Yuan would be Sol’s age now . . .
Rosa
Singa, please take her
Singa
What . . . what are you saying?
Rosa
Please take Sol
There’s no one left
They’ve all been deported
She knows the drill
I promised her
Someone will come for her if
I don’t come home Someone must come for her
And it cannot be ICE
Singa
It will not be ICE
Never ICE
O Rosa, I will cross the Milky Way now
All the way
With Sol
She has dreams I’ll help fulfill
Of being a lawyer
Of being anyone in this world
I’ll cherish her dreams forever
For she dreams a dream so pure, so sweet
Untainted by broken promises
That blight the desert rose
[Rosa clutches desperately at Singa’s hands. Sobs rack her body.]
Rosa
You will love her forever?
Singa
Forever
Rosa
You are the Sun
Who has blasted the walls
Imprisoning me in darkness
Rosa
Go to Sol, my daughter And now yours . . .
Rosa [Reprise of Singa’s Yong Yuan aria]
I’m giving up my child
A beautiful girl child With perfect little fingers
And ten tiny toes
I named her Sol
Which means the Sun
Loved forever
Remembered forever
Regretted forever
Yearned for, forever
Sol my daughter
My dreaming daughter
You cannot come with me
For you have dreams to fulfill
In this land where sometimes
Dreams come true
I am a Dreamer who no longer dreams
But I cherish that dream for you, my child
Who believes that because you dream it
It is so
[Scene cuts to Rosa’s home. Singa opens the door. It is dark in the basement apartment except for a square of light from the setting sun coming in from a small window. Sol is standing in the square of light looking up at the window.]
Singa [softly, standing in the doorway]
Sol, your mother sent me
Sol [speaking]
I know, just as the other mothers
Sent my mother for their kids
[Out of the darkness, children emerge]
Singa
Dear Sol, you are strong
Made strong by your dreams
Sol
I am a sunflower
You are the sun
Mama said, “As a sunflower follows the sun
So must I follow you
Rosa
Goodbye Sol, my dear sweet one
Remember you are a sunflower
The golden sun come down to earth
Yong Yuan
Thank you, Mama for my lullaby
Thank you for making me your own
I’m sad for the kids who’ve been taken from their families
Who have no one to love them
It’s so scary to be alone
Mother
We braved rivers and oceans and mountains
To find a better life
Away from wars and bullets and drugs
Only to be locked up
Our children wrenched from us
As we’re sent back to die
Children
We’re afraid to be alone
Where are you Mama?
Where are you, Papa?
Sol
I am a dreamer
I dream my mother back home in America
I will fight for her return
Yong Yuan
I am a dreamer
Perhaps one day I will meet my birth mother
She will reach out a hand to me
Singa
I have never been a dreamer
But now I catch the dream
Through your eyes
When you raise your tearful face to me
Sun-kissed, sun-scorched, sun-sun-sunny
Rosa
I am a Dreamer who no longer dreams
But now I catch the dream
Through your eyes
When you raise your tearful face to me
Sun-kissed, sun-scorched, sun-sun-sunny
Mother
I’ve dreamed of a better life for us in America
And now I catch the dream
Through your eyes
When you raise your tearful face to me
Sun-kissed, sun-scorched, sun-sun-sunny
Singa
Perhaps I am now a dreamer
Rosa
I am a Dreamer who no longer dreams
Mother
I am a dreamer struggling to hold on to my dreams
Children
I am a Dreamer
Rosa, Singa, and Mother
We cherish that dream for our children
Who believe that because they dream it
Children
I am an American
Rosa, Singa, and Mother
It is so
Children
I am a Dreamer
Rosa and Singa
They dream a dream so pure, so sweet
Untainted by broken promises
That blight the desert rose
Children
I am an American
Children
I am a dreamer
We have dreams
[Singa opens wide her arms and the children slowly approach her. As they do, they turn into sunflowers, until at the end, we’re left with the image of Singa surrounded by a field of glowing golden sunflowers.]
Copyright @ cerise lim jacobs 2017