Salena Deane
Explaining My Blackness to My Mother

after Sabrina Benaim

Mom, my blackness is a mutant.One day it is the gold star
on the behavior chart of a 1st grader.
The next, it's the stamped frowny face
that warrants a lifetime of timeouts.
Those days, I hold my head high
and keep my lips shut as the clock ticks down.

I call those days the status quo.

Mom says to speak up; nothing will change
unless you make it.

When I try, my blackness becomes a flare;
something I set off as a signal to others,
sparking it up as a way of bringing prejudice to light.
But a flare can attract predators too.
On a desert island, I call for help. But instead of a boat,
the animals emerge from the darkness
and they're not here to rescue me.
Besides, Mom, I'm used to the timeouts,
it's the jail time I'm worried for.

Mom says I have a lifetime of success ahead;
that I won't ever be put in that situation. 

But Mom,
what about the rest of us?

Mom asks who's "us"? 

"Us" isn't you and me, Mom,
it's the "us" that begins life 5 steps behind
just because of the melanin in our skin.
The "us" that has to work 10 times harder
to prove to America that we matter.

But-

Yes, Mom, we all matter.
But when a home is burning on a block
with houses of all colors and sizes,
the rest of the neighborhood wastes their water on
swimming pools and water fountains.
Instead of giving the house the help it needs,
they just watch as it's reduced to ash,
set ablaze by their age-old torches to begin with.

Mom says she doesn't like to think we live
in a world where the color of my skin defines
how people see me; she says it isn't fair.

 I don't either, Mom. And it really isn't.
But my blackness reminds me of it every day.
My blackness is a token, a memento, a scar.
But my blackness is also a blessing.
A proud flag I will always wave
no matter the consequences.

_ _

Salena Deane is a writer who lives in Massachusetts, working on her degree in Creative Writing. A loyal employee of Dunkin’ (formerly Dunkin’ Donuts), she spends most days making lattes and crafting poems.

>> Back to Issue 20, 2017