I had to repost this note posted by my Goddaughter. It is so special to me. I didn't put my name in this poem, but the person who wrote it did as if she knew my story. When I was younger, I got talked about excessively. When I get older, I talked about, but by Christian women who I learned that their statements about me were no more true then the words of the children who thought teasing me made them better people. God is awesome...His sheep will know His voice!
They told me I was ugly,
Something like Pecola,
undeserving of love—no kisses, no hugs
“Go scrub my floors!” they said
“Nurse my children and when they grow up they will call you ugly too because ugly’s what you are…
”They said the lighter, the better, but still not good enough
Made me hate myself and my sisters
Showed me thin white ladies with narrow noses
Striking elegant poses
Accentuating their emaciation, then they told me I was fat
They put Hottentot Venus on display; with thick hips, thick thighs
and supple behind
And proclaimed her a freak of nature
They called me mammy
And nanny, jigaboo, sapphire, jezebel, harlot, skeezer, slut,
chickenhead, nappyhead and
Too proud and independent
Too loud and too relentless
The Black males’ emasculator
But still a welfare mother with one baby on each hip, 5 walking behind
Legs spread open and wide
To keep those checks coming
They probed my insides
Mutilated my body in the name of science
When I complained, I was reprimanded and called defiant
They made me hate myself and
My Blackness
My African-ness
My natural curves
With a nose like your father
A smile like your mother
African—yes! Before American ever was
And beautiful
Strong, yet delicate
Like the dandelions
They put Donyale on the cover of Vogue but made her
cover her face
They’ve denied us Oscars and accolades
Told us we should hate ourselves
Told us we should have no pride
Hate our heritage, our culture, our lips, our nose
Then Imus got on the air and called us nappy-headed hos
Told us hip-hop made him do it
As if the word whore was somehow created by our music
As if we criminalized ourselves
They showed me Shirley Temple dancing with Bojangles
Showed me Marilyn Monroe, Raquel Welch, Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra
Then they gave me Aunt Jemima, gave me ashy knees and swollen feet DAX grease, straightening combs and bleaching cream
My kinky hair the crown God gave me to wear
And so I permed it
Twisted it out of shape and I pressed it to make it straight
I burned it and colored it blonde
They called me exotic
At once marveling at my beauty and making a mockery
of my humanity
And I’ve been made an exposition
They greased me up and stripped me down
Til there was nothing mo
’Still, they copy my style—from my braids to my wrap to my fro
Still, they sing my songs
And envy my complexion
Still, they put me down
I’m so yellow, so red, so black, so brown
So beautiful—it’s true
They almost convinced me I was ugly
Til I saw you
My sister
Your radiance resonates in my reflection
With cornrows and thick lips
And the backside that switches like a pendulum
Jumping double Dutch in the schoolyard
Color confident
Almond-shaped brown eyes
As if we enslaved ourselves
As if we segregated ourselves
As if we were brought here hating ourselves
Well this is my Black girl manifesto
For my sisters in the suburbs and the ghettos
For Nikki, Alexis, Keisha
For Jessie, and Khalilah
For Black girls who beg their mommies for white Barbies
Looking in the mirror, hoping that their faces will change
For the mikas and the iquas and the aquas and the fiyahs
You are beautiful the way God made you
The sun loves you
Can’t you feel it embrace you?
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