Our eyes met for each other for the first time.
I began to introduce myself when he asked my race.
Without question I answered, “I’m white and black.”.
He replied ignorantly, “So you have that good black people hair?”
How in the world does this receive a thank you?
Do my small springs bounce higher than others?
You’re saying that the mixture of sweet coffee
I have in my genes results in naps?
Because honey, my naps are the same naps
that Rosa Parks wore on her head
When she stood up for herself.
So when I stand up for myself and my naps are
Strangled to my scalp while I bob my head,
I will display my beautiful soul like she did.
My kinks and curls are the same kinks and curls
That Harriet Tubman carried on her scalp when
She saved 300 slaves from hell. So when I
Carry my kinks and curls while I run into the risk of being hurt,
I will save someone from their version of hell,
My strength will shine like hers did.
My curly Q’s are the same curly Q’s that
Maya Angelou held on her head when
She moved people with her art.
So when I hold my curly Q’s while I control
People to hold their hearts and gasp.
My words will break the bones encasing my heart.
And because half of me is white, I must have radiant qualities?
Because have a white mother hand me her DNA
saves the black side of me? Living in a half vanilla half
Chocolate body I am privileged, according to you.
Because being black is just so bad!
Owning the tiniest of curls is a nightmare, however
Having the needle straight
Hair fall down your back is a blessing.
You’re saying to me that the smell of paradise that comes from the
Carmel roots in my scalp make me better than any other
Black goddess with curls?
My hair represents me as a physical feature,
Not my race.
My black curls were handcrafted for me.