ethnicity
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I’ve traveled to many countries,
Met people white black and brown,
I’ve seen beautiful locales,
They faced the world standing proudly, forming a triangle with their backs to each other, their diverse facial colors, corporal features and costumes distinguished in the rising sun.
When I saw the flower, it had already been picked
I saw its roots
Dark and full and filled with dust
Yet still visible
I saw its stem
I grew up with a carefree view of the world in my youth
I didn’t change until I realized the hard-hitting truth
I started caring about issues in politics and society
Constantly thinking about figuring out a remedy
The air was cool that morning,
Matching the sky’s lavender and peachy hues.
Vehicular white noise
And the wind’s quiet whispers
Lulled the peaceful baby to sleep.
A few grains of wheat
Des glaneuses ，in 1857–
By French painter Millet Jean Francois，
Filled with tranquil，solemn scenery，
And simple life of peasants．
As an infant, their eyes are filled with happiness
their head is filled with innocence
their heart is filled with gold.
As a toddler, their eyes are filled with curiosity
their head is filled with imagination
A mentor is not always a person you see.
A mentor can be anything that motivates me.
I think of a land that is near the Baltic-sea.
we're all human
no matter what religion we follow or dont follow
we're all human
no matter what culture we belong to
we're all human
no matter what ethnicity we are
we're all human
When I was a child I was told that I was black but not black black. I didn't quite fit into the pre-packaged, tick-one-only boxes society had for me. Which made it difficult when trying to find my place.
What can you tell from the color of my skin?
Does it match what's on the inside or does it just scratch the surface of who I am
You may assume you know it all
But one thing you'll never see, is my true identity
I am not the color of my skin.
I am not my semi-squinted eyes or my small nose.
I am not my small mouth and my round face.
I am not my small stature or my black hair.
I need my melanin
as crazy as that sounds
my melanin screams I am who I am,
I need my melanin its
my sense of confidence and power,
A world divided by race,
A people shackled by hate,
For if there is bigotry,
Then there is no liberty.
Although we are different,
We are all significant.
Do not fear difference,
she's a girl with a sense of wanderlust
she seems so happy but she's just
a remnant of a far-off age
over the days her people change
gone from the roots of a wandering past
my, how it's seemed so fast
They call us
thieves -
filthy, hungry,
bean-eating
wetback thieves.
They look at our
brown skin
and sneer.
But
they do not know
who we really are.
One
It is about time you realized that you are black
you still don’t know what that means
But one day you will
And you will never have felt more beautiful or misunderstood
Everyday is the same as yesterday
I fight to be a new me but it always flees
The chance to change my families name itches at my mind
That new me must come up and rise
What would you change?
What would I change?
I'd chage the way peole think,
Get rid of the unnceccasary judgement.
Who needs that?
Certainy not we.
We have the power to learn,
If I could change the world,
I would abolish prejudice;
Or the bumpy past,
That created it.
No race more superior,
No size more supreme.
Only happiness,
And positivity gleamed.
i wonder who it could be
that would want me for me
who could include my faults
in whats best of me
why cant i see
when will he show
its been a dream of mine
he holds the key
No father
mother here
but really there
I am here
but really
where?
nature
or really nurture?
This world is all about oppression.
It seems that's all we really care about.
To slam our likes.
To slam our beliefs.
To slam our backgrounds.
We never seem to stop.
We do it more and more.
Look at me and tell me
I didn’t fight for my rights.
Because twenty-four hours seems more like twelve rounds
And some days the bell doesn’t sound.
Their blood runs through my veins
Welcome to Chicanos- r-us
We service all of your needs
Will school principals go to isle 12?
We still have a few janitors here
Desperate for a job
Yes, they are Mexican
Ready for their graveyard shift
I'm sorry, I hadnt realized that correct grammar and proper English was only something one race could doMy mother never told me I had to talk in slang, incomplete sentences, & silly colloquial speech
Everytime I look at a paper it has:
Black, White, Chinese, Indian, etc...
Why can't it just say American?
I don't want to be labeled as those things,
I'm not black, I'm not white,
I'm just an American.
Culture is a way of life that is based on beliefs, behaviors, morals and values.
It's a way of life that has been passed down from one person to the next.
Bonds that you share with someone else.
It gives us our identity.
Skin color vs ethnicity:
Isn't that the game?
My mother is Scotish
My father is Mexican
My cousins are African
I have blue eyes with a halo of orange fire
His game was astronomical
This young boy who loved to hunt
In the underbrush of the forest
sun halve past twelve
A fox appeared ahead
Golden fur and bright brown eyes
What It's Like To Be a Mixed Girl (for those of you who aren't)
First of all, it's feeling like you fit in and then one day
someone different appears in the mirror.
Though my skin is white, I still have to fight.
For education, equality, acceptance. I promise I'm bright.
Actually, I'm Hispanic, but you couldn't tell by my skin.
Call myself hispanic, and it's considered a sin.
Affirmative action.
A good idea?
Perhaps.
Equality for all races...
Hate that word, races.
Tells of a division
Separate groups
Of black, and white.
"Why?" some ask
Not understanding
