NEW POEM: Being a Poet During Black History Month
Wednesday, March 30, 2011 at 11:32AM
To the college student who asked me if my poetry was gonna educate her on Black History...
Should she rearrange her schedule to see me speak/ Would my quotes be black studies term-paper quality/ I mean, I am performing in February/ What else could I be speaking about?/ I didn't mean to confuse you/ I know my videos on youtube aren't exactly Black Panther friendly/ You're right someone could mistake me for ignoring my ancestors' history/ I haven't complained about educational inequality/ I didn't explain why 60% of the prison population has Africa in their veins/ Haven't re-accounted the 2010 news story where the Texas Board of Ed state that textbooks should be changed to say "Africans were brought here to HELP American society," without mentioning that they were enslaved/ I guess this is when the/ statistic should come to mind/ that Blacks receive longer sentences and spend more jail time/ than Whites with similar backgrounds who committed the same crimes/ I guess my poetry lines and rhymes aren't "melanated" just right/ I made the mistake of thinking that telling tales as a Black woman in America/ meant I was telling the Black history of my life./ Because this month isn't just about slavery/ We're still fighting for equality and for the right to tell our stories today/ See maybe, you assumed I'd educate you in the traditional way/ Teach facts and stats that you'll misquote or forget once you receive your final grade/ Like classical musicians versus Hip Hoppers/ you've made the fatal mistake/ of thinking a new generation's experience isn't worth as much as the ones of those people in graves/ I don't incorporate everything I know about my people's past/ Maybe that should change./ Maybe you're right...
I just remember the time when one late night/ on a college radio station phone line/ I was told "You niggers need to get off-air, cause no one wants to hear that jungle music."/ This was in 2005./ Remember hearing my shadowed, deep deep chocolate cousin complimented with the words "You're pretty...for a dark skinned girl."/ Grew up in an educated home/ went to a high school where the kids my skin tone called me Oreo for using words like ecstatic and sarcastic/ Hung with girls who thought poppin like they do in rap videos meant they were grown/ I've only known a handful of Black families where both a mommy and daddy lived in one home/ including my own/ Rode the train with boys who wear their pants like their self-esteem/ Really really low/ Who don't know that trend came from prisoners who weren't allowed to wear belts/ I'm the product of whippings from rolls of wallpaper and "licks" from belts/ cause to my mom, "Timeouts were for White kids"/ I watch friends around me struggle with the idea that they could better them self/ Who stay in abusive relationships cause they don't know anything else/ Scared to leave the hood because they've never seen anywhere else/ Condemned for not trying harder when they've never received sincere help/ America hands minorities their destiny like snotty tissues/ You wonder why my people have issues/ If you don't see how your race effects you on a day-to-day/ you must exist on a different plane/ because to quote Martin Luther King's saying, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere"/ so you must be ignoring the pain/ You must not have heard about Oscar Grant, Kathryn Johnston, and a host of other untold names/ You must not have known anyone stopped by cops and told their expensive car couldn't be theres even though the title bears their name/ You must never have seen skin lightening creme sold in the ethnic section in a Duane Reade/ Or Black woman who's scared for anyone to see her without her hazel contacts or long, straight hair weave/ Met any kids who believe that the only way to get rich as a Black man is to play sports, rap, or sell weed./ Obama is just one person to them/ how do you teach them better when the majority of minorities around them are in poverty?/ Heard folk say, "Just play your cards right, and you'll make it" even though it's shady as hell the way the cards are dealt/ Even still my skin affects me./ Recently an A&R from a major label said "Shanelle is awesome, but she's not industry-beauty."/ I've watched girls with less talent than me get put on instantly for their mixed ethnicity/ genetical ambiguity/ tall, light eyed, near White-skin and skinny/ a lot less curvy than me/ They call it "marketability"/ Don't play the Jennifer Hudson & Beyonce card/ Look at the ads and commercials and count the brown skinned girls who look like me/ Count the Grammy and Academy award winners/ Count the number of blacks on TV/ Shoot, count the amount of black performers that get booked on the average college campus other than in February/ I'm grateful for the opportunity/ but I don't need anyone telling me that it's my job to give a rundown on being a descendant of slavery/ to be the token negro displaying my reality TV/ Get off Facebook and look around/ We're in an age of technology and diversity/ I speak stories that affect my audience universally/ Don't you think it's deplorable that you'll only support me if I can teach you what it means to be Black?/ No one taught me how to be this ethnicity/ I just am/ and I'm blessed to be able to be on a stage in front of you because 30 years ago, if you asked a Black Woman to speak at the average non-Colored venue/ they'd say "Thanks, but I can't."/ This month celebrates the African American past, present, and what's to be./ I like to think that I show others our similarities/ I hope that through my performance you'll see/ a human being with unique experiences that relate to her race, gender, and geography/ more than just a skin tone/ if that's not enough for you/ then maybe you should just stay home.
Black history, february, poetry, spoken word in Poetry