The first thing they tell me is that I’m “barely”

 

Barely Native

 

Barely colored

 

Barely aware

 

Barely alive

 

They tell me it doesn’t matter, because it’s over

 

Over for whom?

 

For you?

 

Or for my family?

 

And who are you to decide such a thing, you judger?

 

They tell me it’s not an insult

 

But it is

 

Because you are begging me to deny myself

 

Simply because it makes you uncomfortable

 

But let me tell you

 

That it’s made me uncomfortable every day of my life

 

They tell me that none of it is real but it is

 

Because I feel it under my skin

 

They tell me it’s over

 

But it’s not

 

Because I see it in their eyes that they carry the legacy of their ancestors’ hatred

 

Like I carry the legacy of my ancestors’ oppression

 

They tell me it’s not about the way I look

 

But it is

 

It always is

 

And if you deny that

 

Then I color you a liar

 

They tell me it’s not about race

 

But it is

 

It’s about race

 

It’s about gender

 

It’s about sex

 

It’s about class

 

It’s about height

 

It’s about weight

 

It’s about beauty

 

It’s about age

 

It’s about everything and nothing at all

 

If you decide that it is, in fact, meaningless

 

Then I bow to you

 

It’s about saying yes

 

And saying no

 

And saying maybe

 

And saying always

 

And saying Never Again

 

We bend in the wind because it’s easier than breaking

 

But if we try to tell the wind ‘no’ it turns on us

 

And calls us lazy cowards

 

But they are the cowards

 

So afraid of darkness in skin

 

So easily breakable

 

So easily molded

 

It’s about character

 

It’s about love

 

It’s about hate

 

It’s about you

 

And it’s about me

 

You tell me it’s not about the way I look

 

But it is

 

It always is