In line with my last few posts and in fact a fair few of my posts, here is another poem for Black History Month. I wrote this a few years ago about structural racism in general as I see it but also about how the beauty industry adds to the racial bias we see in society... I've had a lifetime of hating my hair and really, that is largely to do with the messages we women are bombarded with about what is and isn't beautiful. Yes, there has been a big push to address that in latter years but we are not there yet... No where near...
BLACK BOOTY
I am black
I am brown
I draw the outline
I wear the crown
Whether you’re pinky
Whether you’re white
Bears no relevance
Casts no light
Cos this minefield
I inhabit
Those streets
Your ancestors walked
For free
Are stained with the blood
Of my dear elders
Stained with the blood
You let me bleed.
The very timbre of my hair
Debased
In the beauty industry
Words like frizzy, afro, kinky
Used
So pejoratively
If I am black
I am not beautiful
In this rhetoric i see
Unless I'm fetishised
Reductified
Commodified
For thee
I hear you talk of
Justice
Peace
And love
Of diverse equality
But in receipt
I am still lacking
In understanding of this plea
When those relational identities
That long ago
Put you above me
Are still paying dividends
In the profit
That you take
Ignorant and free
Oh my white brother
In your harbour
You sit incapable to see
That you move through life
Unhindered
By the doors
Held shut to me
Oh my white sister
In your tower
We break bread
And share our souls
But reparations
Are not so figurative
When life deals more
Than our shared blow
You think my sex
It does define me
You think my sass
It sets me free
You think my hips
That swing like peaches
Invite you daddy
To come on in
You think exotic
Is a compliment
You think me curious
You think me art
You think me lucky
To be objectified
Fetishised
And torn apart
Am i black?
Am i brown?
I am a caricature
I wear the crown
I am valued but I’m wage less
This deficit
In which i drown
In these socialised perspectives
In which I’m defined
In which I’m allowed
But equality don’t mean we’re equal
You started first
I’m weighted down.
