writing is my therapy. over these last few months, with mounting racial tensions, outright displays of hatred, and low-key disbelief that my america has too many throwback moments to yesteryear, i find myself writing daily. multiple times a day. i have to get it out. because if i keep all this pain, anger, and rage inside, it will eat me alive. so i reach for my journal, or grab my laptop and start pouring out the words. one by one they become phrases, sentences, paragraphs, essays, speeches, rants, stories, and poetry.
for the last few weeks, i’ve really been struggling with being forced into a cloak of invisibility. unlike harry potter, i have no use for such things. i don’t want to be hidden away — my essence watered down, my pain disguised, and my outrage muffled — because america doesn’t want to hear what we have to say. i’m tired of the play along to get along foolishness we are forced to embrace if we want to survive the corporate space. i’m tired of the constant attacks on our culture, our psyche, our souls. it has finally come to a head. over the next few weeks i’ll probably share some of those writings because i know i’m not alone in this struggle. here is the first piece i wrote. i hate poetry. i know that’s weird. i write it all the time. but i’m just not a fan. anyway, this is one of the pieces that came from these wrestling sessions.
you can take this back
hey girl, are you lost dear?
with your skin not so fair
with your kinky afro hair
what in the world are you doing here?
here is my degree so you can have a peek
this paper says i belong
this paper with credentials strong
it is a job that i seek
there’s a place for you if you want it
but first tone down your speech
but first try on this leash
you have a spot if you’re the right fit
we need you to put on this cloak
it will keep you nice and warm
it will give you lots of charm
wait, is this some kind of joke?
people like you need to learn to blend
but it’s my personality that is disguised
but it’s my culture that it hides
is it my very nature that offends?
forgive me if i reject your mold
i am in love with how i was made
i am not at all interested in a trade
i’ve been liberated from the lies you told
this bondage ends today
i can open my mouth and breathe
i can raise my hands and be free
keep your stifling racism and watch me walk away
wonderful….that was real talk