classism
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Wah di price fi education
As far as I can see
Is only di top ah top can afford it
Wah di price fi education
Dat mi really waah know
Wah di price fi education
As far as I can see
Is only di top ah top can afford it
Wah di price fi education
Dat mi really waah know
Hill homes and cars and a place in front,
we run a race I lost at birth
with house wheels and buses.
I cross the line
to stand in dingy dark, cast by prestige.
Retroismic palaces rise from deserted sands but all I see around me is mental illness
A basket of bread and flower,
-Lexicon for heartening;
Jazz brass and sunburn in the poppy fields
The so called, “American Dream”
Is the ideology that everyone should live content and in peace
With the friendly neighborhood barbecues
And sewing flags out of fleece.
When will I see
Fruitions of being happy
What happened to respect exactly
What's intact is that I watch my back
Wondering when one close
Decides to hide inside
The lies of emotional ties
"Clocks on the wall
Talk to watches on the wrist
It's the (moments) we relive
It's the moments like this"
I will not describe my culture,
With romantic language,
Showcasing the beauty of our brides,
Adorned in striking crimson,
Or the spiritual resting places,
That spread themselves accross the lands,
Have you ever wondered,
What did any of them do to us,
Why so much hatred and headache
And why not put in all in the past where it belongs?
Have you ever thought about,
its that time of class when your books are stacked on your desk and they have been there for 5 min. already
your eyes have been glued to the clock and your friends start to get ansty.
I once took a test that required I fill in my race.
I looked at the options, and confusion struck my face.
As i bubbled Hispanic/Latino I felt I was lying to the Test Proctor.
I was born in an ever changing world,
but to me seems like a never changing world.
All I had was positive thoughts in my mind,
didn't know that would change in due time.
Lue find, the meaning of life.
From your talk to your walk I can't stand your presence
Everyday I enter that doorway and become trapped in this prison..
your chalk is writing what happen to markers and hope?
Education is the thing,
That causes our minds to ring.
Our brains twirl round and round,
all while wearing a great ol' frown.
But in the end all is well,
For those who get an education,
That is.
Miguel is eight years old walking to school
Every day he passes the pot head, crack dealer, and pill popper.
He is innocent though and not giving a care in the world.
In class we are asked,
To find the sum or the mass,
Of topics that I'll never need.
What about doing taxes,
Or working the faxes,
Because this I never see.
Racism
Sexism
Heterosexism
Classism
Humans
Oppression
Privilege
Advantage
Suppression
Humans
White
Heterosexual
Male
Perfect
No Ma'am
I cannot stop talking,
I had to tell Sarah about my strict parents and about the cute guy I talk to now.
No Ma'am
I did not do my homework,
I had an essay, a project, and test to study for.
On the first day of class we sign a promise not to plagiarize
But really it’s a balance
Between copying
And knowing what you want to hear
Because our own words aren’t in your answer key
You can’t cite scars
I'm sick of my own voice
blaring in my ears,
screaming, distorted, through the T.V.
Female middle class white noise.
