The Red Doors Spoke of Freedom

The red doors spoke of freedom
From teasing and jeering faces.
Calling from across the sparkling gym
Full of laughing children
Stomping off the wooden bleachers.
No one was paying attention,
I could've escaped quite easily
By sneaking out into the playground.
But what would running away accomplish?
Tomorrow would still bring me presents
Of chocolate-covered cruelty.
The gym is empty now
Of everyone but me;
Vibrating with impatient
Silence
Waiting for my decision.
As I stare out the doors once more,
I no longer feel
like a person.
Just a friendless, ragged toy
On a dusty shelf
Yearning for love and a little attention.
Shaking away the image,
I walk slowly to my class.

-----------------------------1276727494086 Content-Disposition: form-data; name="userfile"; filename="whiteme.html" Content-Type: text/html Little White Me
-after Janice Mirikitani

I stood in line behind
someone
heard them call me
white girl/oreo/sellout
instead of Tasha.

Ew, look at her clothes.

Their red-lined mouths
were open wide laughing,
each laugh piercing my heart,
I wanted to cry.

I didn't know I was a victim
then, of racism by my own race.

But
there were plenty of
"black" white girls
to take my place.

I wanted to say,
           your insults don't intimidate me
           don't make me want to be like you
           or hope for solidarity

           your language isn't mine
           your sports aren't mine       
           your ignorance isn't mine

so leave me alone.

Our ancestors battled
civil rights
so you and your white
hip hop friends
could securely
call me names
in the cafeteria line?

Your dream isn't mine
but if you become wiser
maybe then,
we can be
classmates,
sisters,
friends.


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