grey

Listening now to the sound of the gong,

flowing through the membranes of loss,

of loss brought forward as a sacrifice to the gods,

to the gods of retribution who stand between the clear grey line of,

blackness meeting armed whiteness at the back of police vans,

of gunpowder and stolen voices– anchored unto the seams of the Atlantic,

of the Atlantic heavy with unborn child, clinging to the expanse of being and becoming,

of being and becoming in between the greyness of limitations that are both blinding as

they are obscure.

Listening now to the sound of the gong,

praying hope over the darkness of snatched nights, whispering mothers, walking over the edge,

over the edge of our dreams that lay beside us by day and haunt us as they lay beneath us, all too often.

All too often, do we find the greyness, unyielding,

but always

there

 

MLK Quote, 1967

“Whites, it must frankly be said, are not putting in a similar mass effort to re-educate themselves out of their racial ignorance. It is an aspect of their sense of superiority that the white people of America believe they have so little to learn. The reality of substantial investment to assist Negroes into the twentieth century, adjusting to Negro neighbors and genuine school integration, is still a nightmare for all too many white Americans…These are the deepest causes for contemporary abrasions between the races. Loose and easy language about equality, resonant resolutions about brotherhood fall pleasantly on the ear, but for the Negro, there is a credibility gap he cannot overlook. He remembers that with each modest advance the white population promptly raises the argument that the Negro has come far enough. Each step forward accents an ever-present tendency to backlash.” -Martin Luther King, Jr

Credits: http://bit.ly/1KukFCl

The unlearning process

My child, I speak these words to you not by a wisdom I have always known but of one, which I am still learning. May your path be different from my own, I pray this.

This costume of blackness, of browness, of color, should not define you.

 

Unlearn the lessons of your forefathers.

Yes, remember the lessons of the Kings, the Woodsons, and the Mandela’s but unlearn them.

Let each day be an opportunity to let the sun paint you a new history.

 

The blood and the pain of your ancestors is neither your present nor your future. Unlearn it.

Those battles have been fought and I urge you, my beautiful child of color to find your own battle.

 

And your battle may be the most difficult one yet.

To learn to love the very essence of our pain. The very essence that is ours, the essence that is blackness.

 

Yes, dear child, your battle is not an easy one but I urge you to pick up your weapons of self-love, self-appreciation, respect and dignity.

The process of unlearning will be painful but it must begin now.

 

It must begin with you.