visibly invisible
Who I am "underneath it all"
is easy to see -
however,
my life consists of defying what others expect from me.
From the womb, I was presented as the most
obedient
harmless
innocent
child you could ever imagine,
because that's what it took for my immigrant parents to be accepted.
Every time I encounter
rap music
stray basketballs on the ground
watermelon at a potluck
fried chicken on TV
I look in another direction, because that's what it takes for me to be respected.
At 15,
I found an article titled "How to Avoid Being the Angry Black Woman" on my mother's bedroom floor.
How could she not know there is no such thing?
Yet, I fall to the same trap.
Constantly attempting to convince others that I lack dozens of stereotypical qualities
gets so tiring.
I now know this is called "stereotype threat"
but who knows that in 7th grade?
I told a group of prodding white classmates I "wasn't sure" who I wanted to win the presidential election (lies)
but "if I had to choose," it would be "McCain" (lies).
When they left me alone, allowing me to let out a sigh of relief,
I felt that something - or someone - had been betrayed.
There was a student at that school who was like me
...we did not stick together.
Up to this day, we undo each others' efforts.
I prove my affinity for white classical composers,
work to get straight As.
He invites others to note his stereotypical qualities,
laughs excessively with begetters of racial malaise.
When I see that it gets to be too much for him
turning from a group laughing at pictures of him eating fried chicken
when I sense something within him that is not angry, not happy,
but transparent like the loose skin on my grandmother's hand before she died,
something dull like the still dimming light of a lamp after it has already been unplugged from the wall,
I turn too.
If we were not just seen as black
loud
smart
or however else we portray ourselves as to get through the day,
it would be obvious
who we both are:
Two complex human beings, doing our best
as we perform two different roles on a stage.