Posted in Poetry

On police.

i didn’t know about rubber bullets
or how to make makeshift gas masks
until ferguson
mike brown’s body boiling
four and a half hours
face down, hands up, and bloody
in the middle of the street.
justice never required six warning shots into your back
there is no such thing as protocol anymore
when it comes to black people.
our protests are peaceful
chanting arm in arm
hand in hand
hands up don’t shoot
while our tea is getting laced with tear gas.
babies hit by flashlights and night sticks
beanbags disfiguring eye sockets
one black body
yes body
(we aren’t anything but),
clothes hanger, worker, rap god
every 28 hours murdered
313 a year
once dead, they are vilified, lied about, spat on.

lady liberty is hanging her head in shame
her torch has blown out
shoulders slumped over
and she wants to go back to France.
do not tell my boys they need to pull their pants up or wear a belt.
do not tell them to be peaceful.
king wore a suit and he still fell from his throne at lorraine.

Posted in Blog, General, Uncategorized

Racism is Not a Game

Rose Water Magazine

I do not get to pick and choose the color of my skin, where I grew up, or how I grew up, much like I cannot control or change anyone else’s experiences. However, some things are inherently and systemically racist, and I am not “playing the race card” when I bring up historical context and how people have been affected by it.
America was built on the backs of slaves and laws making people of African descent as a lower than the average white person. America has better jobs and better living situations than those of African American descent. America is not the melting pot it claims to be. Neighborhoods seem to be segregated, and if it is a black/African American community, the property value automatically goes down, which is absurd, considering two houses could be exactly alike, but one is worth more because of the neighborhood it is in.

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Posted in Blog, General, Uncategorized

I Wanted to Be White

A very personal piece about my journey into becoming a black woman.

Rose Water Magazine

When I was younger, I was constantly teased for my character, my voice, my personality, and my skin tone. I went to an all-black elementary school and I did not understand what anyone meant when they were calling me an “Oreo,” or that I sounded white. I was not aware of the distinction between the two. I had rarely been around people that weren’t black. When I went to middle school and the racial percentages changed, the teasing did not. As a budding adolescent, the bullying and verbal assaults damaged my psyche and identity greatly; I wanted to be white.

I believed that white was powerful and that it was beautiful. In my experience, white people have always been better off; they have had more money, better clothes, better cars, better homes, their children were smarter and were offered more educational opportunities – something I now define as white privilege…

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