All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Race Is A Funny Thing
Race.
That is a tender yet powerful word.
It's how we define someone. Correct?
Decide who’s wrong and who’s right.
It is why my father tells my younger brothers.
“If you get pulled over, never Fight.”
See, race is a funny thing.
Works in many wondrous ways.
It's the reason I get asked, “what are you?”
“Wait, you're black too?”
Everyone seems to hop on the case.
What is my race?
I am German, Italian, and African American.
But it's because of the color of my skin I can't fit in?
Race is a funny thing.
But what is the color of my skin?
Rich Melanin runs deep through my blood.
That part is stronger than a flood.
Everyone wants to say “own your skin you are a queen.”
But they seem to forget that people of my skin color had to put
125-150 pounds of cotton on their backs every day.
At the same time, your people had a playday
I guess this is too sensitive of a subject for you though.
But what is race? What is melanin?
Is it the reason we are pinned to the ground because they saw something
“suspicious” in your car?
Or is it the reason why our testimonies are never found?
Why is it that one happens after the other?
You see, race is a funny thing.
They pull you over and have you put your hands behind your head.
Like some trick or mind game, what is this?
And as you are turning around as your told,
They shoot you not 1 but 4 times.
As your laying there in a pile of your own blood,
Trying to hold on to the last bit of life you have left
You can't do anything but cry and pray
Pray to God that he doesn't let you go.
Because you have a wife and two children,
To which you have to get home.
From what I'm told, officers are here to serve and protect.
Not to play Russian roulette.
Let me ask you something,
Honestly,
When you hear this, what do you see?
Another black man whose blood stained your concrete.
Do you want to know what I see?
I see another husband another father,
Another friend, and another brother,
Whose life was ripped away from underneath his fingertips.
All you have left to say is tisk tisk?
This is genocide at its finest.
By the United States finest.
But racism is not a thing?
We pledge allegiance, To our flag,
And to our United States of America, to our republic,
For which it stands, Our nation,
Under God, Indivisible,
With liberty, And justice for all.
But this is not what I see.
What I see is a repeat,
Of segregation and slavery,
But this is the part of history no one wants to acknowledge,
Everyone wants to forget it.
But why, if you don't know history you're bound to repeat it.
Right?
The thought of this sends chills through my body like I am in an igloo.
What is so hard to get the clue? That I was not made for you.
I was not made for you to take my life as you go and please.
I was not made to be silenced.
I have a voice and I'm going to use it.
I'm going to say my name and say it loud.
Because I am proud.
I am proud of the person I'm growing up to be.
The person that has the courage to say this is me.
And this is Melanin,
I am tied to this beautiful culture,
That never seems to change as it gets older and older.
This is me and this is melanin,
But you see, race is a funny thing.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 1 comment.
When I wrote this piece, I felt more connected to it than anything else. Growing up seeing this I start to gain my own strong options about this topic, and I began to find my voice through poetry. When I wrote this this was intended to a slam poem (which it still is and is preformed that way). I wanted to let people know that they aren't alone with this topic and that I see them.