Telling a tale of Black family life without the usual cliches

Nia Akilah Robinson’s “From 145th to 98th Street” has premiered at Urbanite Theatre. Her play is about many things. It’s about changes of address and attitude. It’s about dreams deferred. It’s a sharply drawn family drama. It’s about the spirit of a place. It’s about the family rooted in that place. But it’s mostly a play about decisions.

The time is 2014. Harlem’s the place. The Curtlys are the family. They’re an African American family. Before the play opens, they’ve left Harlem. Their new apartment is about 50 blocks away — in a mixed neighborhood on 98th Street. Jackie (Imani Slates) and Cedric (Brian D. Coats) did it to create a better life for their teenaged kids, Fatima (Sol Fuller) and Jamal (Ibukun Omotowa). A better school district, more economic possibilities. 

But Jamal feels cut off from his roots and moves out. He gets a job at a gym and pursues his dream of a rap career. Fatima feels intimidated by privileged classmates, and secretly starts to abandon her college dreams. 

The family’s coming apart. But, as the play opens, a local news station falsely identifies Jamal as a robbery suspect. He gets beaten up by self-appointed crime stoppers as a result. He returns to his family’s home — bruised and traumatized. But that attack is a catalyst. It starts bringing the family back together.

Director Jerrica D. White keeps the action and dialogue naturalistic and low-key. The rhythms of life ebb and flow unpredictably. You see without being seen. Think “fly on the wall.”

The actors breathe life into Robinson’s sharply defined characters. Each makes you feel for the dreams they’ve put on hold. Jackie, the Curtly matriarch, is a type-A personality. She has an eagle eye for detail and runs the family with military precision. Her character’s tough because she has to be. Beneath her stoic mask, she longs to leave her physically punishing job. In the spirit of “Candide,” Jackie dreams of moving to someplace that’s green and cultivating her garden. 

Her husband, Cedric, is a retired bus driver and an ex-martial arts champion. He’s packed an unused room with his old karate trophies and still practices first thing every morning. He dreams of a more serene lifestyle — and a détente with his wife. His character’s back-and-forth with Jackie crackles with authenticity. 

Jamal dreams of pursuing his music and being taken seriously. 

Fatima is a volatile mix of potential and self-doubt. She dreams of college — but fears she’s not smart enough. (Or Black enough.) Dawn (Ariel Blue), the Curtlys’ next-door neighbor, initially comes off as a busybody when she calls in a noise complaint at the worst possible time. Dawn later apologizes — and it turns out she’s a therapist who dreams of helping people. She becomes a surprising family resource. 

The Curtlys’ family affair unfolds in Frank Chavez’ believable set. It won’t be gracing the cover of Architectural Digest anytime soon. The apartment’s uptown but not upscale — a well-used, well-kept, middle-class enclave, complete with working refrigerator. 

Adrienne Pitts’ costumes flow from the characters’ inner lives. Jamal’s T-shirts are my favorite. They change like mood rings from scene to scene. Now, it’s a Notorious B.I.G. T-shirt. Moments later, it’s a Treyvon Martin T-shirt. You always know what Jamal’s feeling. In this play, that’s always the point.

Image courtesy of Sorcha Augustine

Robinson’s witty script is spiked with occasional heartbreak. But it’s not the typical Black trauma play. It’s just a slice of family life in the African American community. Speaking of which, she’s never didactic. The play’s conflicts are ripped from the headlines — in the New York Post. 

But Robinson avoids the insulting cliches of Black experience. Harlem isn’t a hellhole. Midtown isn’t heaven. Jamal smokes pot — so what? There’s no “Just say no” message. Jamal’s the victim of mistaken identity. But no SWAT team kicks down the family’s door. 

The playwright also shuns a permissive point of view. Jackie and Cedric want what’s best for their kids. Jamal never went to college; Jackie fights to make sure Fatima will. But what if that’s her choice? Who is she to decide? The mother, that’s who.

The nuanced script has the ambiguity and complexity of life. That’s a risky dramatic structure — it demands focused attention. There’s no ticking clock, no sharp turning points, no life-or-death stakes. It’s just life. Very few big moments. A multitude of small decisions.

Should Fatima mail in the acceptance form to Montclair State University?

Should Jamal protest or sue the local CBS news affiliate?

Should Cedric speak his mind?

Should Jackie offer guidance but let her kids make their own choices?

Good news! The characters all make the right choices. Spoiler alert: By the end of the play, their deferred dreams have all come true. Fatima’s in college and Jamal’s doing good works at a not-for-profit. Cedric and Jackie are leaving their empty nest. And moving to a house with a yard in New Jersey where Jackie can finally put her green thumb to good use.

That’s the end of the Curtlys’ journey in 2014.

I wonder where they’re at in 2025?