“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” – James Baldwin
Put your fingers in your ears; you will still hear us.
Go ahead, run. Faster, boy; you will never escape your ancestry.
Pull the covers over your eyes; you will still see that they are white.
Our actions will speak louder than you can hide.
Yes, you know our secrets, and you are one of us.
You have unknowingly carried our message your entire life.
“I don’t see color”
“Everyone is equal”
“This is the land of identical opportunity”
Yeah, that’s where I come from, a land that said without saying,
Black is dangerous.
Brown is poor.
Red is drunk.
Yellow is silly.
And I am better.
Spitting on the backs of the unseen people who got us here.
Raping the experiences of minorities to feel comfortable, in charge, and safe, so ‘they’ could remain ‘they’: cold, sweaty, and nameless.
Yes, that is where I come from.
The Carolinas whispered white lies,
“Do not see, speak, hear or smell difference”, they told me, “Everyone is alike.”
The white siren spoke so loudly, though I have not heard her until now.
I drank her poison by the gallons, and hangover hasn’t gone away.
I am wondering if this detox will be as painful as their secrets.
I am questioning: will this anger will result in action?
As I point my middle finger back East, I demand:
Carolina, take back your damnable lies and make me new. Make me clean.
Carolina, give me back my home, give me a new place to come from.
