[ it takes a while. erik seems to be mentally weighing the worth of it. ]

My old man came from Africa. He came to America for a job. But I think he wanted to go home. For the longest time, he would talk about how he'd take me back. Let me experience my culture, my people. Not get bogged down by . . . [ he purses his lips. ] by the prejudice we had to face comin' to the US.

But he died. And his family, well, they don't give a shit about Black people in America. Ain't their problem, right?

[ he exhales. ]

No grave. No marker. Nothin'. Not Black people. Just black bodies.