Freedom Theatre's 'Don't Bother Me, I Can't Cope,' by Micki Grant

School daze

Grant wrote words and music for this expression of the African-American experience in 1972. Her script expressed struggle, pain, and protest about the Vietnam War, slumlords, and urban life. It was a sung-through revue, with no dialogue or explicit plot. Rajendra Ramoon Maharaj, who came from New York this year as Freedom’s resident guest artistic director, has provided a plot by tying the music to specific events just outside the theater’s doors.

William Penn High School was built in 1970 at Broad and Master Streets in the heart of North Philadelphia, right across from Freedom’s home in the mansion built by 19th-century actor Edwin Forrest. In 2010, the Board of Education chose to close the school, saying enrollment was down and the building was in poor condition, allegations disputed by neighborhood residents. (Several Philadelphia high schools built in the 1930s are still in use.)

In 2015 Temple University bought the property to construct new athletic facilities. Initially, Temple promised the community would have access to their track and field, but then reneged. Neighborhood groups protested, but demolition began late in 2015.

Selling a city

Dirk Durossette's set design looks like a construction site and it includes photos taken during the demolition. A preacher, waitress, artist, mother, and students sing that they’re unable to cope because their neighborhood is being destroyed. Throughout the show, the cast adds chants such as “Philly’s not for sale,” “Stop Temple now,” and of course, “Black lives matter.” Actors carry placards that read “Save our schools,” and “Gentrification equals colonization.”

Lyrics that mention President Obama and Trayvon Martin were added within the song “Time Brings About a Change” and conjure the thought that — 44 years after this show was written — time has not brought enough of a change.

The cast was uniformly excellent, with every role handled by singers and dancers who match any of Philadelphia’s more frequently cast artists. (Choreography is credited to Maharaj and Julian Darden, though Patricia Scott-Hobbs, and not Darden, is credited on Freedom's website.) Freedom’s performers seem angrier and more forceful than those I saw in a previous production of this show at another theater. I was especially impressed by Tamara Anderson, Nicole Stacie, Lauren Shaye, Marquis Gibson, and James Pitts Jr. Danzel Thompson-Stout had little to sing but commanded the stage with his charismatic body language.

The athleticism and ferocity of Maharaj and Darden’s choreography added great impact. Kat Bowman led a solid four-person band.

Taking it to the streets

Picketers stood outside the theater on opening night, and they had a separate agenda. Two weeks ago, three long-time Freedom staffers — Diane Leslie and Gail Leslie, daughters of the company’s founder, and Hobbs — were discharged, and the student summer program was cancelled due to low registration.

Financial problems are not new at Freedom. But when the artistic director Walter Dallas faced such a crisis in 2004, he maintained the school programs and cancelled a season of performances instead. He told me then, in an interview, “We added courses, I taught classes; enrollment increased and money came in.” Because of this, the company reported a small operating profit for 2005.

The struggle continues, and at a show about the closing of a school, students, parents, and friends gathered to support the discharged workers and peacefully hand out pamphlets to prevent the closing of another.