by Kolby Whack
When I was cut I always bled the same
When I ran out of air I became blue
When I angered at the idea of color having a “ism” my face turned red
But that didn’t matter because color and “ism” came together like racism and I was now discriminated against in my own race and I thought we were in this together but the fact is becoming “equal” was no longer the answer
I was stuck in the middle like an order of operation
Segregation, it now existed in those of brown descent
I thought I was African plus American equals black or African American
But they saw me as black minus African plus lightskinned equals less than black
You follow? Probably not
Your not supposed to I’m supposed to be just me but
My hair is what separated me from the rest
My personality was accepted by the white race
And because my skin was brown but had a yellow tint
Those that I called my bruthas and sistas
Those that marched with my ancestors and shouted “Ungawa Black Power”
Those that use the “race card” to show their worth
Denied me of just that
They stripped me of my color
Now colorism came together like albinism
They proclaimed my weakness over its superiority
Now colorism came together like Calvinism
Are you Indian because your hair it silkins when you straighten it?
Are you black because your hair it thickens in the heat?
Are you white because your hair it waves when it gets wet?
I’M NOT MY HAIR!! …at all
Your the whitest acting black person I’ve ever met
What does that mean anyway.
I’m sorry I didn’t know that because I carry my self this way
I was now secluded from those of color who wanted this same favor
I take pride in who I am
I love my history
But they “people of color”
“Ismed” me like Nazism
Killing me with questions that offended my past
Locking me in barracks of thought
Telling me one thing that had two meanings
No Double Speak
They confuse me
It’s not fault God made me this way
I have dream that one day one day right here in Indiana little light skinned boys and light skinned girls will be able to join hands with little dark skinned boys and dark skinned girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream that we will one day live in a nation where we will not be judged by the color of our skin but by the content of our character.
I guess MLK is still dreaming
*2014 Colorism Poetry Contest Division 2 Honorable Mention
About the Poet: My name is Kolby Whack, and I’m 17 years old. I’m from Indianapolis, Indiana. I’m kind of new at this, but Spoken word has become a passion of mine in the little time that I don’t take for granted. Sometimes I scare myself when I listen to how powerful I sound. But, I write my poetry for others, those afraid to let their voices be heard, because I was once afraid. For me, I live in a world with many experiences, and they deserve to be recognized. I will try my best to be powerful beyond measure!