I have wanted to explore this particular story as a playwright for over twenty years. At first, I was scared to write it.  I met my maternal grandmother only twice in my life. The first time, I was three years old. This play is based loosely on that visit. My mother brought my sister (who is one year younger than myself) and I to visit her parents in the early 1960s. She didn't like to talk about the subject much. I only remember visiting a chicken coop for the first time and her saying the visit did not go well. I took those few facts, and what personality descriptions I had of my grandparents and deduced what may have happened and why. I grew up not knowing her parents and wondered was it just because my sister and I were bi-racial? Or was there a possible deeper explanation? One thing my mother talked about was having a brother who died at the age of four years old. That happened five years before she, the next child, was born. She always felt she could never live up to the memory that her parents, especially her mother, held on to. So, my personal rejection by my own grandmother led me to explore the topic artistically.