THAT Black Girl

just a quick poem on how I've felt being the only black student in my all white class

THAT Black girl

History class.

Was the most feared time of the day.

Maybe not for my classmates,

But for me, it was.

I entered through the wooden door

seeing my white teacher at his wooden desk.

The rest of the students filed in,

One pale face after another.

There I sat,

Looking like a coffee stain

On that new white blouse.

Out of place and easily noticed.

The melanin in my skin

Drew heavy attention

During two specific units,

Slavery and civil rights.

Without raising my hand

I was “randomly selected”

To give my opinion…

My black opinion.

I used to shy away

And give my “conservative” answer.

For living amongst elephants,

The donkey answer was just that… a*s.

I was scared

to be THAT black girl,

The one that made

everything about race.

I was scared

To be THAT black girl,

The one who thought

The world was against her.

I was scared

To be THAT black girl,

The one who only

Wanted what was best for black people.

I was scared.

I was scared.

I was scared

To be THAT black girl.

I use “was” intentionally

Because I am no longer scared.

I may be viewed as the “spokesperson for the black race”

And THAT black girl,

But now I know that

THIS black girl

Can change the view

On race

I know that

THIS black girl

Can make the world

A better place

I know that

THIS black girl

Has the power to unify

all people.

I am no longer scared.

Am I THAT black girl?

Yes.

Yes I am.

Author's Note

Any critique is welcome. I love just writing a quick draft and publishing it. It is an outlet for my thoughts and feelings. As a journalism major, I am often required to write what I am told, but here I can write whatever I want which is an incredibly freeing feeling.