Writing Unafraid: A People Divided

My heart hurts when I hear you rebel against me

Against my culture

Against my ethnicity

I may not have descended from the Ogoni people of Nigeria,

I may not have travelled from the gritty streets of Jamaica,

And my family may not have perished from the earthquake in Haiti

But my skin is your skin

Your pain is my pain

I may not share your same culture

I may not share your same country

But my heart hurt too when Shell invaded the land of the Ogoni people

My mind was angered along with yours by the political unrest that plagued Jamaica

And my eyes wept with and for the people of Haiti when lives were lost on January 12, 2010

I can’t decide if it’s the excessive pride for your heritage or the excessive hatred for mine

I am American

A Black American

A PROUD Black American

I come from a lineage dripped in sweat and manifested in struggle

I come from a people who worked for their freedom and demanded their respect

My people were raped of their liberty just as yours were raped of their lands

By European men who only looked for destructive means to an economic end

So why is it that your tribe in Africa, your streets in Jamaica, and your life in Haiti is better than my life in America?

I am not the enemy

I am more Black than American

More color than citizen

I am you.

Someone who dreams despite capitalist America presenting me with the ultimatum of either succeeding or failing

I am someone who loves in hopes of making amends for my nation that has destroyed countries with their influence and left them with hardened hearts

I am someone who dreams, because my ancestors achieved a freedom against a nation that made them believe that it was impossible

I am someone who loves, because my ancestors defied a nation that told them that their hearts were unable to feel a passion for anything

Writing Unafraid