So, a storm's been brewing

I was talking to my mom the other day about how I saw myself in this fight. It is a long road of discovery, and I am still figuring it out. As a writer, I am not going to stop writing. As an educator, I am not going to stop teaching. For each of my poems that I share, I’d like to discuss two poems/ essays/ books by authors of color.  

The first poem I offer you today, dear readers, is an excerpt from “A Wreath for Emmett Till” by Marilyn Nelson. The original poem is 15 sonnets, and is published as an illustrated narrative. In 1955, Emmett Till was a 14 year old boy from Illinois who was visiting his cousins in Mississippi. He didn’t fully understand the difference between the veiled, subtle racism of the north and the raw, visceral racism of the south. He went into a store and spoke to a white, married woman named Carolyn Bryant. She then accused him of making physical and verbal advances at her. In response,  Bryant’s husband, his brother, and others killed Emmett Till, a 14-year-old boy, in a horrific way. They were acquitted. 

In 2008, 53 years after Emmett died, Carolyn Bryant said she fabricated the incident. White supremacy allowed this to happen.. A white woman falsely claims that a Black boy besmirched her honor. Her husband is given carte blanche to do whatever he sees fit. White women continue to use their position as “the weaker sex” to force retaliation against Black men (re: Amy Cooper / Christian Cooper). White people must dig into their deep-seated biases and learn to do better.  Myself, my family, many of my friends, included.  

Some say that Till’s death spurred the next wave in the Civil Rights movement. While wildly important, I am sure some people would have preferred to see his fifteenth birthday. 

Excerpt from “A Wreath for Emmett Till” by Marilyn Nelson

III.
Pierced by the screams of a shortened childhood, 
my heartwood has been scarred for fifty years
by what I heard, with hundreds of green ears. 
That jackal laughter. Two hundred years I stood
listening to the small struggles to find food…
Two hundred years of deaths I understood.
Then slaughter axed one quiet summer night, 
shivering the deep silence of the stars. 
A running boy, five men in close pursuit.
One dark, five pale faces in the moonlight.
Noise, silence, back-slaps. One match, five cigars. 
Emmett Till’s name still catches in my throat. 

XV. 
Rosemary for remembrance, Shakespeare wrote. 
If I could forget, believe me, I would. 
Pierced by the screams of a shortened childhood, 
Emmett Till’s name still catches in my throat. 
Mamie’s one child a body thrown to bloat, 
Mutilated boy martyr. If I could
Erase the memory of Emmett’s victimhood,
The memory of monsters...That bleak thought
Tears through the patchwork drapery of dreams. 
Let me gather spring flowers for a wreath:
Trillium, apple-blossoms, Queen Anne’s lace, 
Indian-pipe, bloodroot, white as moonbeams, 
Like the full moon which smiled calmly on his death, 
Like the gouged eye, which watched boots kick his face. 

This next poem, “Black Girl Magic” by Mahogany L. Browne talks about what a Black girl is supposed to do vs. what a Black girl is. White readers, I want to check what our role is in how we and society make Black girls feel about themselves. “The Bluest Eye” by Toni Morrison follows a Black woman named Pecola who equates her melanin with ugliness and strives toward being beautiful--in her eyes White. 

Think about the movies we are watching. Does it offer Women of Color in lead roles? With complex backstory? Check the books you’re reading to your children. Do they offer racially diverse characters? Think about the aisles of dolls and the pictures on toy boxes. Are they representing diverse representation? Ask yourself, how can you be a part of the change? How do we teach our children to be actively anti-racist?

Please take a watch: Black Girl Magic
Here is an interview from Poetry Foundation of Mahogany L. Browne discussing her poem and experience.


I wrote this poem at 3:00 a.m. I took my dog out to go to the bathroom and felt the heaviness of the air. From there, metaphors jumped synapse to synapse in my half-asleep brain. With some revision and editing, we are here. 

Storm Warning

You know what it feels 
like right before a storm?
The air is leaden. 
         Thick. 
I know there is some 
scientific answer about 
pressure change. 
But science can’t answer 
what I feel in my 
         bones--  
That the air is hot with 
         electricity. 
It is still and 
waiting for a spark.  

This country was hot with 
         electricity. 
And, George Floyd’s final breath 
         sparked
and lit the world on fire. 

There is no scientific reason 
for this change in pressure. 
It has been boiling and rising. 
Four hundred years of 
oppression and rage vacuumed into 
         Eight minutes and 
         forty-six seconds.

It isn’t just about George. 
It isn’t just about Ahmaud. 
It isn’t just about Breonna. 
It isn’t just about _____________.
                                   (say their name) 
  
It is about White men looting Africa taking 
          husbands, fathers, and brothers. 
          wives, mothers, and sisters.
It is about four hundred years of lynchings
while the people who were supposed to protect... 
   ...watched.
   ...cheered. 
   ...participated. 

This country has been violently racist 
          since before it was a country.
It has been raining 
          hate and 
          violence and 
          prejudice 
since its conception. 

We are fighting the same war, 
just a different century. 
Police brutality didn’t begin 
in the last decade; 
we just began filming it. 

These protests are not 
in response to any one death. 
They are in response to 
          ALL the death 
          ALL  the carnage 
we wrecked on our Black brothers and sisters.

By responding with 
          militarized vehicles and 
          escalating peaceful marches, 
the police continue time and again 
to prove that they require 
          submission 
not offer protection. 

They are pointing weapons at our citizens. 
          It doesn’t matter that the 
          bullets are rubber when 
          you’re staring down the 
          barrel of a rifle. 
Tear gas and pepper spray are 
          chemical weapons. 

The air is leaden and thick, my friends. 

We are the storm. 

So, why is it important to "go high?"

In a speech on July 25th, 2016, Michelle Obama spoke about how their family had (and has) responded to criticisms of Barack. She said, “When they go low, we go high.”

In a Time Magazine article, she talks about how “going high” doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the pain or frustration. It means that you work through it to try to better understand someone’s perspective. She, notably, writes, “When I say, ‘go high,’ I’m not trying to win the argument.”  

That’s the part that gets me. I really dislike losing arguments. I really dislike the person I become when I argue because...I rarely lose arguments. However, in winning arguments, I sometimes lose respect for who I want to be as a human being because of the tactics I've used.  More often, I just walk away. 

Here is where I might lose some people, but please hear me out. It drove me bat shit crazy to see the “Not My President” bumper stickers when Obama was president. Like, “Ya dingledoos. It doesn’t matter if you agree with him or not, he is your president.” So….now the shoe is on the other foot. I will say it is a little different because Obama won both the electoral vote and the popular vote, while the current president only won one of the two. However, we can rip into the electoral college in a different post. 

While I disagree with the vast majority of what our Dingledoo in Chief says, does, reflects, represents, etc, he is still my president. I don’t agree that children are still in cages. Yeah, remember that? I don’t agree that there are “very fine people on both sides.” I don’t agree that he owns stock in and keeps pushing hydroxychloroquine as a remedy for Covid-19. I don’t agree that he has off-handedly created a medical environment where the people who need it for actual autoimmune diseases and malaria are having a difficult time getting their prescriptions filled. I don’t agree with his disbelief in science and reality. I don’t agree with his inability to be honest. 

However, he is still my president. He was elected by a minority of people with an electoral college majority. I do not, I repeat, DO NOT want him to be my president for another four years. 

I have found it so, incredibly difficult to “go high” when he is abusing his power, green-lighting disgusting human tragedy, and actively killing our planet. He evaded removal from office because the senate majority leader refused to have a real trial in the senate. He has doubled down on his border wall and has turned suspicion toward Asian Americans. It is so much easier for him to blame those who don’t look like him for his feckless leadership and inability to control...anything. He has revoked the Paris Climate Agreement. Our planet is dying, dude. There will be nothing left for you to rule if we don’t take care of it. 

The President has muddied the waters of trust so fully that any media that goes against what he says is “fake news.” Distrust in the media and pushing propaganda is a huge, giant red flag. His followers very rarely listen to anything that contradicts him. They often spout hate and ignorance and don’t support their opinions with facts based in real life. His followers listened to his pussy-grabbing tape and heard about the multiple sexual misconduct accusations, and said, “Yep, I am all in.” 

It is so difficult to “go high” because we are not even playing the same game right now. Progressives work toward bettering their people and their base. They have a moral obligation to “do the right thing.” Because a victory fought in their trenches of dishonesty, hate, and ignorance is no victory worth winning. The President’s followers are so entrenched in his rhetoric that trying to have conversations with them hasn't gone anywhere. Hasn’t “moved the ball forward.” So, what do we do?

It sucks. We are getting literally and metaphorically slaughtered. If he wins the 2020 election, our nation may be irreparably damaged. If he doesn’t win, our nation may still be irreparably damaged. He watered a chasm between the “Right Side of History” and the “Wrong Side of History.” It is now a canyon. We have to build bridges to allow people to cross.

We have to talk to single issue Republican voters. We have to talk to non-voters. We have to continue talking to Trump voters. We have to get people to give a damn. We have to rally around the common goal of progress. We have to vote like our rights depend on it. However, we  must respectfully engage in conversation with people with whom we disagree. We cannot think we are better than the people with whom we are speaking. We have to go high.

We have no idea what our future holds. We have no idea how our world will be shaped by the actions (and inaction) of our government. We have no idea what will be written in the history books. 

What we do know is how we acted. Were we fearless in standing up for what we believe? Did we do all we can for our homeless brothers and sisters? Have we protected our Black and Brown  brothers and sisters from people who deem themselves judge, jury, and executioner? Have we surrounded our Asian brothers and sisters who are not at all new to discrimination in this country?  Were we compassionate toward our Hispanic and Latinx brothers and sisters who are fleeing war torn countries? Were we kind to our neighbors?

Have we gone high when it is so, so much easier to go low?  

So, grassroots politics has a lot of growing to do

I thought that, for all of my blustering about politics, I need to be an active participant in every way that I can. I attended a Town Hall Meeting with Representative Jim Sensenbrenner this afternoon at the Waukesha Public Library. My intention, here, is to write an op. ed. to The Freeman, that Waukesha newspaper. So, edits and thoughts are greatly appreciated. 

To Whom it May Concern, 
I attended the open Town Hall Meeting hosted by Representative Jim Sensenbrenner, State Representative Adam Neylon, and State Senator Chris Kapenga. This was first Town Hall meeting since returning from living abroad. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I did my homework and wrote a first, second, and third tier question if in case others asked similar questions. 

The first several questions focused on Congress' meeting to begin talking about repealing the Affordable Care Act. Rep. Sensenbrenner consistently commented that he does not want to pass anything without knowing what was in it, quoting then-Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, "You have to pass the bill to find out what is in it" no less than three times, suggesting she passed the bill without knowing what is inside of it. Upon further investigation, she said, "We need to pass the bill, so you can see what is in it away from the fog of controversy." Linguistically, that is a different sentence, but I am not here to quibble over proper pronoun use and cherry-picked quotations.  

In response to a question (I am not sure the specifics), Representative Sensenbrenner began talking about an art project in Washington. He said that a group of art teachers gather student art and display it in the hallway between their offices and the House Chamber. He talked about how the art teachers chose an inappropriate piece of artwork. He further explained that it was a piece of student art that depicted police officers as pigs. Once again, the content of the art isn't the focus. His following sentence was something along the lines of 'there is a divide between teachers and the government. And, here in Wisconsin, all the high school teachers don't like the Republicans.' It was after that quote I began taking more detailed notes, because I knew I needed to write this piece for whomever would listen. 

Representative Sensenbrenner's speech patterns and idioms set the tone for the entire meeting. He spoke in broad brushstrokes like this, which, in my opinion, further divide the parties. Representative Sensenbrenner also spoke in a curt and combative manner to his constituents who were asking questions about the Affordable Care Act, how he is going to use his voice in the House to make sure all people's voices were heard, as well as many other sentiments. 

Then, he called my name. I was lucky enough to still have my first tier question. This is my question, verbatim:

"Gentlemen, thank you so much for taking the time to be here and listen to us, your constituents. Representative Sensenbrenner, as one of those high school teachers, whom you broadly painted to all dislike Republicans, I understand the necessity of both the freedom of speech and the freedom of expression. I also understand the responsibility with which one must handle both of them. The President Elect's inflammatory and derogatory remarks on women, racial and religious minorities, and news media have spurred a seemingly impassible chasm in our already divided country. How will you, as well as congress, hold the President Elect accountable for his words and actions? It seems as though we're drawing lines in the sand that every time the President Elect goes 'too far' we erase it and draw it again. Where will you draw that line?" 

His immediate response was that the House of Representatives has no place in voting for the President Elect's cabinet, that he has no say in who will be in the cabinet. Then, he continued to say that he does not go around using those words, but he defends the President Elect's right to say them as much as my right to disagree with them. 

I said, "Thank you, sir, for that information. I did not know that piece about the House and Senate. However, that was not my question. My question was, 'Where do you draw the line in acceptable language?' How are you protecting your constituents from the things the President Elect is saying?" In response to my keeping the focus on the question and refusing his pivot, there were claps and nods of affirmation. 

His response was rapid fire, which cut me off, "Well, aren't you a teacher? Shouldn't you know that the House does not vote for the cabinet?" There were some cheers for his response, and I needed a second to reel back from that. 

I responded, "Sir, that is not an answer to my question. And, the tone with which you have conducted this meeting is both inappropriate and disrespectful to us, your constituents." 

Representative Sensenbrenner needed to call the room to quiet and reiterated that he can't control what the President Elect says and that it is within his right to say it. He also said that people need to responsibly use their words. 

And, then he moved on. 

About two or three speakers after me, Representative Sensenbrenner banged his gavel and said, "The more you clap and cheer the less questions we can answer," which took away our power to show if we agree or disagree with the speaker. It took away the community aspect and made it individuals with individual problems as opposed to a community feeling similarly about a topic. 

Throughout the meeting, several of Representative Sensenbrenner's comments were pointed and divisive. He did take a hard line on being careful with how he will respond to Russia's perceived influence in our election either for or against the President Elect depending on whom you ask. He referred to Rev. Theodore Hesburgh, past president of the University of Notre Dame as, "a proud, flaming liberal." (1:58 p.m. , 14 January 2017, Town Hall Meeting, Waukesha, WI), which states pretty clearly Representative Sensenbrenner's opinion of anyone left of center. This comment and opinions like this further divide this country along party lines. How can we possibly heal our country if our representative speaks so divisively of both the Democratic and Republican parties? 

Most of the this afternoon's town hall meeting focused on the Federal level, and consisted of people asking questions and sometimes being talked over. However, near 2:15 p.m., a gentleman stood up and asked  State Representative Adam Neylon and State Senator Chris Kapenga about voter suppression in Wisconsin. The gentleman suggested that if voting is a right, should there be an automatic registration process and photo ID  for anyone who turns 18. Representative Neylon's response was, "No." Senator Kapenga expounded saying that people need to make the effort to be engaged in the political process. It is not too much to ask people to register to vote. 

The gentleman followed up with it isn't necessarily about the  registration process, but what about living in the inner city and not having transportation to the voting booth or an ID to use if it is necessary. 

Senator Kapenga's response was something like, 'You don't have that problem.' 

The gentleman retorted, "How do you know that? How do you know my background?" 

Senator Kapenga said, "Are you a constituent of this district?" 

"Yes," the gentleman said.

"That's how I know," Senator Kapenga quipped.

"But, you don't know my background. How can you assume that?" The gentleman said, as murmurs spread across the room.

"You create problems in your own mind," Senator Kapenga stated. The room erupted in noise both in support and defense of his comment. (2:23 p.m., 14 January 2017, Town Hall Meeting). 

Representative Sensenbrenner banged his gavel and brought the question to the federal level by documenting South Carolina's initiative to have people without transportation call the DMV to drive them to their polling place. He said that 59 people used it (I have not verified this number or program), which he suggests it was not a successful venture. 

After the meeting was dismissed, I approached Representative Sensenbrenner and told him that the tone with which he spoke to me and many others was disrespectful and inappropriate. I assured him that I did not need or want an apology, but I wanted to tell him that his comments about me not knowing specific parts of the Constitution were uncalled for. 

He followed up with, "Every teacher should know the Constitution. If someone wants to become a citizen of the country, they need to know the Constitution. The people teaching our children should also know the Constitution." 

I responded with, "I am an English teacher. I studied literature. I don't expect you to know the inner workings of literary theory." 

"Literature is not the basis of our country. You should know the Constitution." 

Baffled, I responded to that with an idea that my knowing this aspect of the constitution is wrong or right, is not the point. I continued, "The point is the tone of this meeting was combative and defensive. I just wanted you to know how one of many of the people here perceived your message and tone."

"Well, your comments and questions were pejorative and derogatory to me."

At this point, a line began to form behind me, and with such a loaded statement, I felt pressured to answer quickly or not at all. So, I decided to get off of the hamster wheel. I thanked him for his time and exited. 

After the meeting, more than one person approached me, thanked me for my words and bravery, and said that his comments and composure were not atypical. I am not being brave. I am speaking my truth. I am standing up for what I believe. I am refusing to normalize this political climate. I am living my American dream--a dream in which people can hold respectful conversations, a dream in which the government listens to the people, and a dream in which people, all people, work towards unity. 

So, my mom is a better person than me

It has been nearly two weeks since the United States held an election, which resulted in President-Elect...I don't need to say his name. You know.

I have rolled through all of the emotions over the past 11 days. I went to bed on Monday night, assured that when the time comes, I will be able to get married, legally, to my girlfriend. I woke on Tuesday, donned my pantsuit, and bubbled with excitement of hearing the words "President-Elect Hillary Clinton."

I went to bed Tuesday night stunned and terrified that when I woke the legality of my love would be in jeopardy.

On Wednesday, the sun did indeed rise. President-Elect, ugh, was not a bad dream. He is my reality.

And, some of you may be thinking, "What's the big deal? You can still have a ceremony." To that I respond, "I don't care about a ceremony. I care about parental rights. I care about family insurance coverage. I care about next of kin. I care about my wife being able to see me when I am in the hospital getting ready to go. It isn't about flowers and a white dress. It is about my rights as a human being to love and be loved, to have our love protected by the law."

As the dust settles, I have stepped back from my egocentric response and instead focused on how many people will be affected--how many people have been affected. Hate crimes have sky rocketed. This is a fact.

And, this, this is where things get sticky. I lost sight of how much hate there was in this world. I hid behind my liberal elitism and posited and postulated without shutting the hell up and listening. I tried to reason and to debate with those who shared different views from me. I didn't listen to their undertones of fear, of hatred sugared by, "Oh, no. I don't agree with what he says about ______ group. But economics? But Supreme Court?" (Fill in the blank with literally any minority group. And, like, literal literally not the fake literally OED added two years ago.)

So, when the polls rolled on in, that wave of hatred washed over me, and pulled me into the undertow. And, there I sputtered, drowning trying to find footing in anything solid. But, everything kept slipping from under  me.

I swallowed their hate. It filled me up. I was...am...so angry. And, in one of my soapbox demonstrations (held in the cozy atmosphere of my living room to a single other person), I ranted, "I mean, I can't even. I have been going high and going high and going high for the past 6 months. I just want to dig in and really go to town on how this man has bullied, mocked, and flip-flopped his way onto this ticket. I am so damn sick of going high. Where has it gotten me? What do I have?"

And, my mother, ever wise, hugged me and whispered, "You have your dignity. You. Have. Your. Dignity."

And, I breathed for the first time in what felt like forever.

This is not to say that I will shrug my shoulders and watch this train wreck of an administration collapse. But, my mom refocused me. She reminded me that love always trumps hate. Love will always, always win.

So, what comes next. Now is the time when artists get to work. We are the voice of the people. And, the time is now. So, with neither pomp nor circumstance, an open letter to American citizens aged 18-really old:

People who voted for Trump but "didn't agree with his hate speech,"
You need to go to work. Right now. You need to stop hate crimes when you see them. This man has normalised racism. This man has normalised fear of the other. This man has normalised bullying on an astronomic scale. This man has incited the words of Richard B. Spencer, "America was until this past generation a white country designed for ourselves and our posterity...It is our creation. It is our inheritance, and it belongs to us" (video of Richard B. Spencer's address to the Alt-Right party, The Atlantic). You gotta step up and say that this blatant racism cannot and will not be accepted by the Republican party. This Alt-Right movement has scary, scary resemblances to Nazi Germany. I have refrained from making that comparison, because it makes me want to vomit. But, when Spencer opened his statements with "Hail, Trump," I can stand neither idly nor quietly. And, neither should you.

Conservatives who did not vote for Trump,
We may not agree on a whole lot of social policies, but I recognise your economic platform as a reasonable approach to government funds (though I may disagree with them). But, take back your party. Let this man know that he doesn't speak for you or your party. This man is not a Republican. He jumped on a bandwagon driven by fear. You know this. Let your elected state officials know it. They must govern according to their constituents. Call up Paul Ryan and tell him that this man does not align with you. Tell him, or else he will continue to support this man's policies. He won't listen to me, but he might listen to you.

Liberals,
Take a hard look at how you've engaged in discourse. Was it respectful of others' ideas? Look around your world, your reality. Make sure that you are truly living according to the democratic idea. Are you helping those in need? Are you standing up for what is right even when it is awkward or uncomfortable? Liberal Elites forgot a huge section of people in this campaign. We forgot the blue collar workers who feel disenfranchised. Now is the time to push for real policies that will help even the playing field for them (not the pipe-dream promises this man has given them).

The 46 million people who didn't vote,
You live in a country that let's you have a voice, a say in who becomes the leader? This is not a universal right. Is the two-party system messed up? Yes. But, that does not mean that you abandon the system. Work to change it.

To the people who really and truly believe that this man is the best fit for president,
Please, look at the people around you. Look at the people in our nation. We are hurting. The aftermath of this man's election has raised hate crimes against people of color, against Muslims, against LGBTQ people, against women. We love. We fear. We bleed. We are humans. Please, please see us that way.



   

So, Black Lives Matter...always

So, you may be wondering why I am writing this now. There hasn't been any sort of national newsworthy police shooting recently or irrational use of police force sensationalized by the media. Sadly, though, it is only a matter of time before these events surface again. It always seems to rear its ugly head juuuuuusssssst after folks feel safe in their neighborhoods again, feel like they can trust those around them. However, there are those who never feel safe in their neighborhoods, those who are afraid to live in this country because the color of their skin combined with their gender place a target on their back before they're even born. 

And, yes, the media hypes it up. Yes, the media makes these incidents the top-of-the-hour news and spins them however their bias leans. But, the media also makes these problems visible. And, for those of us privileged enough to have been unaware of everyday racism, these stories shed light on the cracks and chasms that have been forming for decades. Racism didn't end the same day the Civil Rights Movement did. Racism didn't end the same day Black people got to vote. And racism sure as hell didn't end the same day ‘Jim Crow’ died.

So, in light of all that is happening in the 2010s, I wrote two poems. The first poem I'm leaving here, "Deferred Dreams," was written in response to the second poem (which I wrote about a month ago). It integrates lines from Langston Hughes' poem "Harlem" with America's present social and societal problems. The second poem, "Post Amble" came in a fit of twenty minutes when I was supposed to be doing homework. It is a call to White allies to do something. It uses the Preamble of the United States' Constitution to show that we need to become one whole country. If you're already familiar with the Black Lives Matter Movement and/or the total necessity to have these conversations with anyone at any time—not just in the wake of tragedy but before it, then you can probably skip over the first poem and get right on to the second one. Or, read both. I don't know. I don't tell you what to do. I'm not your mother...probably.

Deferred Dreams

My buddy Langston, he told me about 

what happens to a dream when it is deferred. 

And, right now, I just can't sleep.

I close my eyes and see

Black men and women's lives

drying up like raisins in the sun--

juice seeping from them. 

And, that, that is why Black Lives Matter. 

Because senseless violence, perpetuated

by hate, by profiling, by casual racism 

festers like a sore.

Black Lives Matter because they

run and run in an endless cycle of 

self defense, police violence, 

Black retaliation, violence, protests,

violence, death, violence, death, violence.

Death.

White standers by watch, 

They wring their hands unsure of 

whose lives matter, or if they matter at all. 

Their mere observation stinks of rotten meat. 

They participate in that casual racism that prepares

their fellow Americans for slaughter. 

They

        cross the street.

They

        clutch their bag. 

They 

        start sentences with, "I'm not racist, but..."

There is no but. 

There is no reason for these actions.

There is no response to this onslaught of deep-seated

violence and hatred. 

The cries of 

"All Lives Matter" 

         or 

"Blue Lives Matter" 

crust over the experiences of our Black brothers and sisters--

a syrupy sweet concoction meant to pit us versus them.

We are a divided country. 

We see this every day. 

White standers by, pick up the mantle. 

Stop wringing your hands.

Use them to lift up your brothers and sisters

whom—for too long—have sagged under this heavy load. 

Be a part of this movement. 

Stand

         up.

Show 

        up. 

Be upset. 

Be an ally.

Together, we explode.

Our hopes and dreams 

flare and catch, 

spreading a fire that

cannot and will not

be extinguished. 

The next poem is a more direct conversation with those who know there is a problem but do not know what to do about it. It may be enough to just let your friends know that you’re there. It may not. You have to be ready to engage in hard conversations, open those cans of worms, talk about the racial issues that make us uncomfortable. We must build a future worth living in. And right now? This isn't it. 

Post Amble

We the people

are angry. We are sick.

We are tired.

We are raising our voice

in order to form a more perfect union

with our Black brothers and sisters.

Too many of whom have died at

the hands of those who’re meant to

establish justice, who’re meant to insure domestic tranquility.

We are frustrated at those who

provide the common defense

of “All lives matter.”

But, you see, Black lives, they don’t matter more,

But, Black lives matter.

Too many of us have forgotten.

So, before we forget Alton

Before we forget Philando,

Before we remember to forget whoever is

next and next and next,

we must stand with our brothers and sisters to

promote the general welfare in our country.

Now is the time

to provide a space

in which they feel safe,

in which they feel home.

Now is the time

to help them to safety on an

elevated railroad.

  

Now is the time to

shout and protest and rally

from St. Paul to Ferguson.

We must secure their blessings of liberty.

Now is the time

to share this burden

wherever you are.

We, the people, do ordain and establish this

constitution of fairness, of justice,

of being on the right side of history.

Now is the time to band together.

We are a many-colored revolution

that demands equality.

Now is the time to become the

United States of America.