When I described my high school to people, I usually say it was like the movie Fame.

We sang, we danced, but it was also very different, because our school, instead of being on the upper west side of Manhattan, was in small town western Massachusetts, surrounded by cornfields, a strip mall, and a donut shop.

And in 2004, the school was changing.

A new busing program opened the door for a group of black students from a nearby city.

But we were welcomed with a different kind of performance.

And it's still fuzzy with me, but... A history class assignment.

The exact assignment was it was an impersonation contest,

and we were studying the Gilded Age.

One student dressed as a famous tap dancer,

one a jazz musician.

But some students went a different route.

So there was a, without naming names, there was a clan rogue involved.

I've honestly blocked this out, but I believe someone wore white.

And when I told my mom about it, she's like, what?

Hell no.

There were angry parents protest in front of the school, an emergency assembly to talk about race.

And after the dust settled, word came down that our high school had selected a show for our big annual musical. Regardless of what the school thought they were doing,

the whiz, for me, is an iconic stage play. The Wiz, as in the all-black retelling of The Wizard of Oz.

I want my hand in his play.

And the journey of putting that show on would change all of us.

But, but, but, but I said, stop you in a motorboat.

We're doing the whiz.

...