You’re African, girl. Daughter of a freed slave. How will you find a better lover? // I don’t want that life. // You want a life with James Leigh, who comes to repair the plaster? With Joseph Henri, who fixes your boots for you and calls you Mamzelle? Those are good men, men with money in their pockets. But they’re black men. Will they give you a fine house? Will they let you live like a fine lady? No. You won’t have anyone to help you in their house. You’ll be the slave in their house. You’ll work yourself into an old woman, and you’ll have black babies that won’t ever have any better chance than the one you have now. You don’t take this chance Anna Bella, you’re a fool. // I don’t feel anything for him! // Love? // I love Marcel. // Give up those crazy thoughts, girl, he’s Creole. // He loves me. // His destiny has nothing to do with yours. That was carved in stone the day you were born. Take this white man. […] But your Creole boy will never give up what he’s been born to.
Madame Elsie and Anna Bella Monroe, The Feast of All Saints (Showtime, 2001)












