Here is a link to a MoveOn.org petition. Here is more info.
Friday, September 30, 2016
Deciding Where to Care: racial justice poem 3 (TRUTH)
See my first poem
for the history behind why I started writing "poetry." The theme for the September open mic in
Medfield was truth. Below is what came to me.
At the open mic, I started by asking if folks in the room would be willing to do a non-violent action and stand if they agree that black lives matter, and/or to join me in the chant at the end. (maybe 50 there?) It looked like everyone stood. I welcomed them to sit down during the reading of the poem if needed. No one did. The poem lasted around 5 minutes.
I was appreciative and felt supported with that effort on their part. I also felt they might have been "in the game" at least a bit more that way...listening and feeling a part...not separate from me? It is my third time reading a racial justice poem there. That action helped me know who else was in the room...not just the visual awareness of lots of whiteness there.
Deciding Where to Care
I am a white woman and 51.
I am embarrassed to say that only after half a century
I finally woke up to the pains and struggles that other folks
a less privileged group of folks
Black folks
have gone through for hundreds of years.
Though old for them, it seems new to me
immediate.
Not moved so much before
when I learned of the history of slavery
now I feel empathy
when I hear about
another black person shot to death
by a cop
innocent or not
not given equal justice
or read about the whipping machine
forced labor
forced marching to a new owner
families pulled apart.
What took me so long to see
the struggles of these others are worthwhile for me
to know and care about?
I could have learned much earlier
from others around me.
I wasn’t living in a white suburban bubble
all of my life.
When I was a little girl
my father worked with his friends
Black Panthers
supporting them in their work
bringing food to hungry school children.
When the home of 30 Black Panthers
was bombed with plastics only available to cops
Dad joined a line with other pastors
between his friends
and the police
who were not trusted.
I was not hungry for food myself
nor
it seems
hungry to learn what Dad was doing.
In Chicago’s West Side for my first years of school
I was a scared white girl
a minority in my classroom
and playground.
I learned double-dutch
but not how my black friends
were at home
or if they struggled to survive.
While in the North Side of Chicago
as a junior high school student
I learned to type and sew and such.
I knew about the Gaylords and
other gangs in my school and neighborhood.
My mostly white group of kids
living together in a cult
were seen as another gang so we were left alone.
Not there by choice
I felt abandoned by my parents.
I didn’t care then
to learn why they chose their gang.
Looking back
I complain that I had to eat expired food
but I had enough
I didn’t go hungry.
Did they?
One of my younger sisters
has been working for racial justice
for more than 5 years.
Did I never pay attention to what she
must of been
sharing with me?
Was I blind and deaf to all of this going on around me?
I was asleep for sure.
I didn’t personally see a reason to care until
this little sister that I love
did a dangerous
unpopular
and misunderstood protest.
She used her body with others.
They blocked traffic on a major Boston highway.
Why would this wise woman
risk being run over
risk painful tear gas
risk being locked up?
I had to question her.
I had to ask
Why?
She answered
in a fashion
and gave me things to read.
I woke up while reading
and while writing a letter to her DA
asking for a reduced sentence
to match the crime
with less or no time.
Now I have my eyes
my mind
my heart
open.
Other white folks need to join us who are woke
for racial justice to be available
for all.
I understand not getting emotionally caught up in
the deaths and misfortunes of all others.
I can’t open my heart to care deeply about
innocents in each and every
terrorist attack
war overseas
bombing of buildings and
racers of a Marathon
each and every
truck crashing through crowds
shooting in nightclubs
or all death and destruction from natural events.
I have to decide
how to feel for others
who I don’t personally know
and love.
I have decided to open my heart
to a group of folks who in our history were
sold
traded
wrenched away from family members
raped
whipped
lynched
made to live and learn
drink and sit
in broken buildings and schools
from dirty fountains
on backs of buses
on the most dangerous front rail cars.
Their forced labor in cotton fields
made this country rich and powerful.
That was the past
you might say.
But the problems for Black folks are not only
in the past.
There is now
mass incarceration
a school to prison pathway
prejudice
racial profiling
killing of innocent folks
ongoing stress syndrome
neighborhood gentrification
forcing folks to move
daily fear
even in “safe” suburban towns.
Will we wait
until one of these modern injustices
touches us
us white folks
before we feel deeply enough to act?
I read as much as I can
and meet with others
to support
to learn more
to learn how to best
act.
Black lives matter.
Black lives want
a live affirming future too.
I march
and wear my heart
on my bracelets:
Black Lives Matter!
Black Lives Matter!
Black Lives Matter!
© DG., September, 2016
Read at a Medfield Open Mic Coffee House
I was challenged last time, by a black author who usually goes to the open mics there, to stay in a place of power and not cry during the reading...that it make folks feel sorry for me...I practiced and tried really hard not to cry. I did not succeed. During practicing, I was breaking up during the last part, but last night at the event, that isn't where I choked up, it is was earlier about risks my sister took.
At the open mic, I started by asking if folks in the room would be willing to do a non-violent action and stand if they agree that black lives matter, and/or to join me in the chant at the end. (maybe 50 there?) It looked like everyone stood. I welcomed them to sit down during the reading of the poem if needed. No one did. The poem lasted around 5 minutes.
I was appreciative and felt supported with that effort on their part. I also felt they might have been "in the game" at least a bit more that way...listening and feeling a part...not separate from me? It is my third time reading a racial justice poem there. That action helped me know who else was in the room...not just the visual awareness of lots of whiteness there.
Deciding Where to Care
I am a white woman and 51.
I am embarrassed to say that only after half a century
I finally woke up to the pains and struggles that other folks
a less privileged group of folks
Black folks
have gone through for hundreds of years.
Though old for them, it seems new to me
immediate.
Not moved so much before
when I learned of the history of slavery
now I feel empathy
when I hear about
another black person shot to death
by a cop
innocent or not
not given equal justice
or read about the whipping machine
forced labor
forced marching to a new owner
families pulled apart.
What took me so long to see
the struggles of these others are worthwhile for me
to know and care about?
I could have learned much earlier
from others around me.
I wasn’t living in a white suburban bubble
all of my life.
When I was a little girl
my father worked with his friends
Black Panthers
supporting them in their work
bringing food to hungry school children.
When the home of 30 Black Panthers
was bombed with plastics only available to cops
Dad joined a line with other pastors
between his friends
and the police
who were not trusted.
I was not hungry for food myself
nor
it seems
hungry to learn what Dad was doing.
In Chicago’s West Side for my first years of school
I was a scared white girl
a minority in my classroom
and playground.
I learned double-dutch
but not how my black friends
were at home
or if they struggled to survive.
While in the North Side of Chicago
as a junior high school student
I learned to type and sew and such.
I knew about the Gaylords and
other gangs in my school and neighborhood.
My mostly white group of kids
living together in a cult
were seen as another gang so we were left alone.
Not there by choice
I felt abandoned by my parents.
I didn’t care then
to learn why they chose their gang.
Looking back
I complain that I had to eat expired food
but I had enough
I didn’t go hungry.
Did they?
One of my younger sisters
has been working for racial justice
for more than 5 years.
Did I never pay attention to what she
must of been
sharing with me?
Was I blind and deaf to all of this going on around me?
I was asleep for sure.
I didn’t personally see a reason to care until
this little sister that I love
did a dangerous
unpopular
and misunderstood protest.
She used her body with others.
They blocked traffic on a major Boston highway.
Why would this wise woman
risk being run over
risk painful tear gas
risk being locked up?
I had to question her.
I had to ask
Why?
She answered
in a fashion
and gave me things to read.
I woke up while reading
and while writing a letter to her DA
asking for a reduced sentence
to match the crime
with less or no time.
Now I have my eyes
my mind
my heart
open.
Other white folks need to join us who are woke
for racial justice to be available
for all.
I understand not getting emotionally caught up in
the deaths and misfortunes of all others.
I can’t open my heart to care deeply about
innocents in each and every
terrorist attack
war overseas
bombing of buildings and
racers of a Marathon
each and every
truck crashing through crowds
shooting in nightclubs
or all death and destruction from natural events.
I have to decide
how to feel for others
who I don’t personally know
and love.
I have decided to open my heart
to a group of folks who in our history were
sold
traded
wrenched away from family members
raped
whipped
lynched
made to live and learn
drink and sit
in broken buildings and schools
from dirty fountains
on backs of buses
on the most dangerous front rail cars.
Their forced labor in cotton fields
made this country rich and powerful.
That was the past
you might say.
But the problems for Black folks are not only
in the past.
There is now
mass incarceration
a school to prison pathway
prejudice
racial profiling
killing of innocent folks
ongoing stress syndrome
neighborhood gentrification
forcing folks to move
daily fear
even in “safe” suburban towns.
Will we wait
until one of these modern injustices
touches us
us white folks
before we feel deeply enough to act?
I read as much as I can
and meet with others
to support
to learn more
to learn how to best
act.
Black lives matter.
Black lives want
a live affirming future too.
I march
and wear my heart
on my bracelets:
Black Lives Matter!
Black Lives Matter!
Black Lives Matter!
© DG., September, 2016
Read at a Medfield Open Mic Coffee House
I was challenged last time, by a black author who usually goes to the open mics there, to stay in a place of power and not cry during the reading...that it make folks feel sorry for me...I practiced and tried really hard not to cry. I did not succeed. During practicing, I was breaking up during the last part, but last night at the event, that isn't where I choked up, it is was earlier about risks my sister took.
Labels:
activism,
Black Lives Matter,
poem,
racial justice,
voice
Cats and Dogs: racial justice poem 2
See my first poem for the history behind why I started writing racial justice "poetry." This one uses cats and dogs because that was the theme for the August open mic in Medfield.
Cats and Dogs
My thoughts and concerns these days
are with a topic not so sweet and cuddly
as the pets of this poem.
I am concerned about the inequality
between races
what happens differently for
black folks than for white folks
in our society where often seen
white is right.
When comparing pets with people
we know
cats and dogs are not the same species
but white folks and black folks are
but you wouldn’t guess it
from how they have been treated.
Both are human
all are folks
with feelings.
Race is not real
but it causes real pain.
The difference between cats and dogs is real
not only fur-deep.
If you think about who is on top
among each group
one might say “man’s best friend” over
often aloof cats
but if you have seen them living together
you know that cats are the boss.
In this country
scales tip toward white
when it comes to power
and privilege.
Yes, there are a few
rare cases
where black folks
against all odds
with extraordinary strength and perseverance
have mountain-climbed to the top.
One man now
at the very tip top
is still not trusted and is attacked
led by a white man’s biting words
cat clawing at our black leader’s place in power.
All equally special
both furry:
cats and dogs
and skin-covered:
folks of different colors
can get along
can coexist.
But cats and dogs
can’t have children together
as folks of different colors can
and what a wonderful thing that they do.
With more and more mixing
of black with white in
homes
neighborhoods
work places
schools
government
and police departments
maybe some day
there won’t be such hurtful differences in
neighborhoods
work places
schools
opportunities
and criminal justice.
From my experience with my cats:
striped Tigger and shoulder-clinging Macaroni
with neighborhood and family dogs:
loyal Acadia, obedient Rudy, and sweet Ranger
I see that cats and dogs
are cared for and treated similarly
by their owners who love for them
by vets and animal control.
Why can we do this for our pets
but not for folks of all colors?
I have dreams at night
of the past with my cats
and day dreams for the future
where racial differences are simply
something to celebrate.
© DG., August, 2016
Read at a Medfield Open Mic Coffee House and Old Souls Open Mic (Natick)
Cats and Dogs
My thoughts and concerns these days
are with a topic not so sweet and cuddly
as the pets of this poem.
I am concerned about the inequality
between races
what happens differently for
black folks than for white folks
in our society where often seen
white is right.
When comparing pets with people
we know
cats and dogs are not the same species
but white folks and black folks are
but you wouldn’t guess it
from how they have been treated.
Both are human
all are folks
with feelings.
Race is not real
but it causes real pain.
The difference between cats and dogs is real
not only fur-deep.
If you think about who is on top
among each group
one might say “man’s best friend” over
often aloof cats
but if you have seen them living together
you know that cats are the boss.
In this country
scales tip toward white
when it comes to power
and privilege.
Yes, there are a few
rare cases
where black folks
against all odds
with extraordinary strength and perseverance
have mountain-climbed to the top.
One man now
at the very tip top
is still not trusted and is attacked
led by a white man’s biting words
cat clawing at our black leader’s place in power.
All equally special
both furry:
cats and dogs
and skin-covered:
folks of different colors
can get along
can coexist.
But cats and dogs
can’t have children together
as folks of different colors can
and what a wonderful thing that they do.
With more and more mixing
of black with white in
homes
neighborhoods
work places
schools
government
and police departments
maybe some day
there won’t be such hurtful differences in
neighborhoods
work places
schools
opportunities
and criminal justice.
From my experience with my cats:
striped Tigger and shoulder-clinging Macaroni
with neighborhood and family dogs:
loyal Acadia, obedient Rudy, and sweet Ranger
I see that cats and dogs
are cared for and treated similarly
by their owners who love for them
by vets and animal control.
Why can we do this for our pets
but not for folks of all colors?
I have dreams at night
of the past with my cats
and day dreams for the future
where racial differences are simply
something to celebrate.
© DG., August, 2016
Read at a Medfield Open Mic Coffee House and Old Souls Open Mic (Natick)
Let’s Talk about Race: 1st racial justice poem presented at an open mic in the 'burbs
In June, I was invited to an open mic in Medfield, MA. It was a nicely attended event with talented folks telling stories, reading poems and singing/playing music. I was struck by amount of whiteness in the room. I decided to write a poem about racial justice and read it at the next event in July. Below is what I presented.
I also read it in Natick at "No Racism in Natick Rally" on Nov. 19, 2016. See more about this rally here in a Boston Globe article. My handmade sign "No racism. Full stop." was quoted in the article.
Note: I am a visual artist. I wrote this poem, and later more, to read at public events where white folks go, where they are not expecting to hear about racial issues. I am trying to get more white folks in the game...willing to act with us.
Let’s Talk about Race
I learned lately that I am white. And what comes with being white.
I learned I live in a society that supports me
a society that works to keep black and brown folks separate and not equal.
Now I know I have work to do
to undo this society that supports me
the society that works to keep black and brown folks separate and not equal.
What race do you identify with?
If you are a Person of Color, I invite you to tell me how you identify
so I don’t erase this one
and only one
part of your identity.
Are you white too? If so, say it. Face it. That is an important first step.
For us white folks, there is an overwhelming amount to learn
about history and current events
about police that support us
but keep black and brown folks separate and not equal
out of fear or anger or lack of understanding
or because they were taught like we were taught
that white was right.
I am for change. I can not go back to living in the bliss of the not-knowing
about my society that supports me
a society that works to keep black and brown folks separate and not equal.
If you are for change too
for racial justice
and just getting started
here is a way to build your stamina:
talk about race with white friends and family
and strangers even
make it as common and easy as talking about the weather and sports.
But don’t ask the Person of Color you work with to teach you
about history and current events
about police that don't support them
or to speak for their race
like they can speak for their race.
Respect their space
as they need it more than we can even imagine.
We can listen
simply listen
without defending any good intentions
that might have had an opposite impact
and watch youtube
and read words
from People of Color who are willing to share with us what they know
about their history and current events.
We can talk with white folks who are willing to pass on what little we have learned
with others who are white
white folks willing to lean into discomfort
making mistakes as we learn, supporting each other.
Let’s build a new society full of bridges
that can be taken by People of Color to join white when wanted.
Let’s build a society that supports all of us
a society where all folks can be equal
and together.
© DG., July 30, 2016
Read at a Medfield Open Mic Coffee House and Old Souls Open Mic (Natick)
I also read it in Natick at "No Racism in Natick Rally" on Nov. 19, 2016. See more about this rally here in a Boston Globe article. My handmade sign "No racism. Full stop." was quoted in the article.
Note: I am a visual artist. I wrote this poem, and later more, to read at public events where white folks go, where they are not expecting to hear about racial issues. I am trying to get more white folks in the game...willing to act with us.
Let’s Talk about Race
I learned lately that I am white. And what comes with being white.
I learned I live in a society that supports me
a society that works to keep black and brown folks separate and not equal.
Now I know I have work to do
to undo this society that supports me
the society that works to keep black and brown folks separate and not equal.
What race do you identify with?
If you are a Person of Color, I invite you to tell me how you identify
so I don’t erase this one
and only one
part of your identity.
Are you white too? If so, say it. Face it. That is an important first step.
For us white folks, there is an overwhelming amount to learn
about history and current events
about police that support us
but keep black and brown folks separate and not equal
out of fear or anger or lack of understanding
or because they were taught like we were taught
that white was right.
I am for change. I can not go back to living in the bliss of the not-knowing
about my society that supports me
a society that works to keep black and brown folks separate and not equal.
If you are for change too
for racial justice
and just getting started
here is a way to build your stamina:
talk about race with white friends and family
and strangers even
make it as common and easy as talking about the weather and sports.
But don’t ask the Person of Color you work with to teach you
about history and current events
about police that don't support them
or to speak for their race
like they can speak for their race.
Respect their space
as they need it more than we can even imagine.
We can listen
simply listen
without defending any good intentions
that might have had an opposite impact
and watch youtube
and read words
from People of Color who are willing to share with us what they know
about their history and current events.
We can talk with white folks who are willing to pass on what little we have learned
with others who are white
white folks willing to lean into discomfort
making mistakes as we learn, supporting each other.
Let’s build a new society full of bridges
that can be taken by People of Color to join white when wanted.
Let’s build a society that supports all of us
a society where all folks can be equal
and together.
© DG., July 30, 2016
Read at a Medfield Open Mic Coffee House and Old Souls Open Mic (Natick)
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