My
family taught me everything
I
know about survival
What
they didn’t tell me they showed me
The
rest was passed down in the blood
And
I’m a good student
I
learned all the rules
All
the cues all the strategies
Became
expert at overcoming obstacles
jumping
hurdles large and small
My
father broke the national record
For
jumping hurdles at 18
Walked
through countless doors
Slammed
in his face disrespected
Rules
of place and race
I
broke the record
For
suicide runs @ ten
Maybe
it was those
Gangs
of ousting kids
Every
day after school
Nigger
pocahontas mutt
I
learned early how to run
Not
stop to ask, “what?”
And
I
learned early that sometimes
You
have to walk the long way home
The
wrong way home
To
avoid the wrong people
Sometimes
you have to walk alone
Trudge
on train tracks
Mud-filled
dirt paths
Sometimes
you have to push
Through
a crowd
Whisper
when all around you are loud
Shout
when they tell you
You
should be praying
All
my life I’ve been
Name-called,
chased, and attacked
For
being red, for being mixed, for being black
And
I’ve had men misname me
Put
their hands on me/try to unravel me
Because
the combination of
My
vagina my daring and my brains
Pissed
off and threatened them
And
I’ve had homophobes
Turn
their backs on me
Although
we shared the same skin
And
I’ve had people of lighter
Hues
resent my gains
Stick
out their foot to trip me
So
I wouldn’t win
I’ve
been found wanting in so many ways
I
have had heart attacks and strokes
Been
paralyzed and broke
After
doctors denied me medicine
Telling
me ‘Don’t worry
About
your test results, HON”
Young
women don’t get heart disease
It
was a joke to them
And
when I almost died
It
was my fault they said
I
must have had a toke, snuffed some coke
You
know cause that’s what we do
And
I’ve been stopped
By
the police again and again and again
So
they could show off
Their
powerful nexus of
Guns
and badges and white skin
Just
to terrify me
Lucky
for me
My
ancestors taught me
Everything
I needed to know
About
persistence resistance
Getting
ovah and carrying on
So
don’t tell me I’m strong
Don’t
call my life has been a tragedy
Don’t
say you are
Impressed
with me
For
surviving
My
ancestors were slaves
My
ancestors were kept in chains
My
ancestors survived the theft of their land
The
theft even of bones, of graves
My
ancestors watched their babes
Thrown
overboard/sold away
Survived
generations of torture
Back-breaking
labor and rape
My
ancestors were kidnapped
Removed,
detribalized, brutalized
Relocated,
terminated and renamed
And
they are the only reason I am alive
They
taught me
Everything
I know
About
how to survive
So
don’t congratulate me
For
surviving racism sexism
Homophobia
heart disease
And
police brutality
I
owe my tenacity to my ancestor’s legacies
I
would dishonor them
Their
struggles their triumphs
Their
travails
If
I let anyone change me break me
Just
because they hate me
Kill
me
Because
of what I am
Who
and where I come from
I
come from a long line
Of
people
Who
knew how to survive
And
I’m a good student
I
learned to recognize all
The
warning signs
I
learned when to whisper
And
when to shout
And
I’m not going to let them down
I
am the child that peopled
Their
dreams
When
they looked into
Their
mind’s eye and tried to
Imagine
a better time
So
no my life is not a tragedy
And
it doesn’t matter
What
anyone does to me
Because
I was brought forth
With
blood and tears and sweat
And
an insane belief in possibilities
My
life is a victory
How
could it not be
When
my ancestors lived so
That
I could be
