Dear America
I won’t stop fighting for…
equality, black lives, racism, stereotypes, and hate crimes
I won’t stop saying…
black lives matter and black is beautiful because I’m black and I’m proud
I need to tell you that
hate speech is a crime, your racist remarks hurt me, your blank stares scar me, your stereotypes
provoke me
I never told you this but
I don’t speak my truth because words would hurt you
I protect you
And come up with excuses for your behavior cuz I love you just like a mother
because just like a mother
I raised you
you call me your slave
You whip chain beat and rape me
when you should be thanking me
you praise your beloved America
but this country would be nothing without me
your crops would still be seeds
but yet you ignore my needs
sold my children while I raised yours
Now you send your sons to finish the job
No more white pointy hooded mobs or hateful bombs
Your hand blood red from killing your brother with a bible in the otha
Did you miss the main message to love one another?
Now it’s just that cop
Pulls over every black male
Searching for something so he won’t get bail
Meanwhile
Another little black boy is sitting in school
Raised by his single mother that works two jobs and has no time to read to her sons
An innocent victim to the school-to-prison pipeline
That one reading test doesn’t show his best
but in the second grade that little black boy makes a bed that he will forever have to rest
But you say we aren’t oppressed
This is why we protest to confess
To free ourselves of this nonsense
This is why we raise up our fist to show your ignorance is bliss
Because in reality you envy me
your obsession lead to my oppression
while the sun burns your skin it shines bright against my melanin
my big lips are god’s gift
you wish you didn’t have to purchase
my uniqueness is your weakness
you hate that my hair shows you can’t control me
you stole my earth
my riches and gold
you stole my worth
but I still love you
Because after all just like a mother
I birth you
–Maalena Crawford
my time has come to leave you alone for I am no help in this world of sin
I wish you could feel the love I have for you within
for I am just a kid and I do not know how to express feelings
my love goes through the ceilings
heart beating faster and faster like a stampede
do you feel the same I think I got a new lead
now my heart is broken because you left and I’m feeling sorrow maybe you’ll change your mind tomorrow
–Amari Coffey
From the Black Student Union:
The Berkeley High Black Student Union was created in 1968 and has been a key voice for the black community at Berkeley High ever since. Along with the greater black community, the Black Student Union has endured many hardships throughout the years, but we have persevered and are now excited to celebrate our 50th anniversary on a high note. The Black Student Union is a vehicle for black students to improve the political, social, and academic aspects of Berkeley High. We are only as strong as the members who participate. The Black Student Union, is your union, black students, it is not reserved for only the few who are involved. It is open to anyone who wants to join and fight to make our campus a safer, more inclusive, and more accepting place where black people can thrive and succeed.
It is common knowledge that our world has many issues, both here on campus and throughout our nation, and the Black Student Union is a great way to be a leader for social change. There are few teachers of color and even fewer black teachers, the achievement gap in our incredibly wealthy town is inexcusable, racism and hate speech have become cultural norms at our school, and microaggressions go largely unchecked, plus much more. We hope that you will join us so we can collectively address these issues.
All Roses aren’t Red. You might not get what I mean right now but just listen. You see I can’t really walk how I used to walk. My knee hurts! My Stomach has scars on it that can never be repaired. I have bald spots throughout my hair and I only have 9 fingers. You know why! That night I bled more blood than the fish we killed the other night. I was so scared out of mind. I ran as fast as I could because I knew the faster I ran the faster I could feel free. But running fast just made things worse. No one was there for me. No one could stop those group of folks from trying to kill me because everyone was scared. I’m Black and I looked at his wife’s purse. It was cute for Christ’s Sake!!!! I just thought it was cute and then boom I’m running a mile away from a group chasing me.
You were right there though. Just looking. You had this confused look on your face as the men caught up to me to beat on me with their weapons. A gun or maybe a bat. Maybe both! There was definitely a knife. But I didn’t feel it! The only pain I felt was you stabbing me in the back. How could you just watch? Why didn’t you help? Why didn’t you yell? You watched. No emotion. Only that confused look. And when they left, a teardrop leaped from your eyes and you asked me if you should call the cops knowing damn well that man was a cop and the cops are going to be on his side but you’re so lucky because you see but you don’t feel so you probably think you shouldn’t say anything. Why would you think that?
See I didn’t really want to say this. I didn’t really wanna put you on spot but Cole you talk about how you love me and how you love black women and how they are so strong and beautiful and how you don’t understand why people treat us like shit and oh here’s the best part how you’re going to stand up for us but maybe if you would’ve said something it would’ve made a difference. I don’t think I can ever look at you the same way again because being down for the cause means you need to stand up for the cause. Not watch someone get beaten almost to death and then march with us when you feel it’s right.
Cole, we were gonna get married!! We were gonna have kids!! You don’t love me!! You love yourself! I love you though and I didn’t care how white you were. I didn’t care that we have differences because all I saw was the similarities. I guess I was wrong. All I saw was the bright red rose you gave me when we first met, but now I see that roses aren’t always red, but they all have thorns and with this rose, when I picked it up the only red I saw was the blood on my finger.
—Queen M.A.K.