《Pieces of Me》I Ain't Black
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I ain’t black,
that’s what they say.
So, I went and looked in the mirror
and this is what it showed me:
chocolate skin,
kinky hair,
full lips,
flat nose,
big breast,
big butt,
thick thighs,
but I ain’t black.
I ain’t black,
they say,
because I’m a nerd,
I like learning,
I speak proper sometimes,
I know big words,
and I listen to music
commonly referred to as
white music.
I ain’t black,
they keep telling me this,
because I watch nerdy movies,
because I like Star Trek,
because I like to write
stories about vampires,
and because I don’t spend
my whole check on expensive
name brand clothes.
They tell me,
being black is listening to rap,
not learning about other people
and races,
and not being a black woman
and having a fascination
with white men.
They tell me that
wearing clothes with
a racist designer’s branding
on me is being black.
They tell me that all
this misogynistic rap
is part of being black,
that I should accept
a man calling me a bitch,
a hoe, a slut,
that I should just turn my
ass to the camera and
shake it for some rich baller
who ain’t even concerned about my face
let alone my mind.
When they say I’m not black,
I say, my ancestors didn’t fight for this,
slaves didn’t die for this,
blacks didn’t march for this,
for us to degrade ourselves
for record contracts,
for the chance to be rich,
for us to wage drug wars
in the streets,
for us to close our minds
to the world and society,
for us to purposely isolate
ourselves
and ultimately hurt ourselves.
Black people died
so we could go to school,
so how dare you
treat education like a game?
So how dare you judge me
because I wish to be enlightened?
By your standards I’m not black,
but guess what?
Your standards don’t mean jack.
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