A monologue from the play by August Wilson
BERNIECE (thirty-five)
I got enough on my hands with Maretha. I got enough people to love and take care of. You trying to tell me a woman can’t be nothing without a man.
But you alright, huh? You can just walk out of here without me—without a woman—and still be a man. That’s alright.
Ain’t nobody gonna ask you, “Avery, who you got to love you?” That’s alright for you. But everybody gonna be worried about Berniece.
“How Berniece gonna take care of herself? How she gonna raise that child without a man? Wonder what she do with herself.
How she gonna live like that?” Everybody got all kinds of questions for Berniece. Everybody telling me I can’t be a woman unless I got a man.
Well, you tell me, Avery—you know—how much woman am I?
