Summer Saturday: Poetry

Happy Saturday Morning, everyone!

One of the African Dancers performing at my family
Reunion banquet last Saturday
(c) 2017 P.Lynne Designs

I know it is late, I have not posted in a while (August post coming soon, I promise).  I am not excusing the lack of posts, except it is summer.  OK, so it has been a couple of weeks since I posted anything, but again, it is summer. 

I have been to my family reunion last weekend, and if you follow me on Instagram (www.instagram.com/tricia721  same username as my Twitter account), I have posted a couple of pictures there.  Me and my family went back to Alabama, where both of my parents are from (remember, I am a Northern Baby, born here in Columbus).  My father had surgery but insisted on going. (Do you have men in your family like this?  All I can say is Uggh!!) My brother drove there and back.  My nephew, is at the typical age of 6, going on 7 at the end of the month (who actually is 17-year-old in a child’s body, LOL), was good.  Never complained, except a couple of times was a real trooper, being the only kid in the van.  We rented the van, a Chrysler Suburban, rides like a dream, and I had the pleasure of having the whole third row to myself.  My only wish was that I was put on the driver’s list of people driving (having only driven an SUV once). 

We stayed with my aunt in Madison, AL, 2 nights, the hotel the rest of the nights.  I am not going to tell you all of my adventures of last weekend.  Next stop…The Islands.

Why am I posting?  A Poem

This is a short post tonight.  I was trying to find something to write about.  Tip:  sometimes you have to let inspiration take control. 

I do not write poetry.  I probably can if I let inspiration take control of the situation and I am not patient on some things.  So tonight, I was reading a Facebook post, and a friend of mine found this poem about being a black woman.  I read most of it, and I thought, “where has this poem been all my life?”

It talks about what’s wrong with being a black woman.   I have often thought why I have to make an excuse for being born a black woman.  We are often the low person on the totem pole for benefits, pay, and other things.  People always think that when I am upset, I am going to beat a person up.  I am upset, how do you think I am going to react to something that was done against me?  I had an incident that blew up in someone’s face. 

I was getting off from work in December 2006.  It was the holiday season, and I am tired from working (my hours were from 3 PM-8 PM).  I was working at Archiver’s which was a scrapbooking/crafting store.  I walked to my car, and at the same time, two ladies were walking towards their car.  I had a tote bag with me and had put it on the passenger side of my car.   The driver of the other car looked at me and screamed, “you parked too close and you better not hit my car with that door”, or something to that effect.  I told her that I did not hit her car, and I was rushing to get to the driver’s side of my car.  She thought that I was rushing to hit her.  I was not paying attention to her at all.  She had threatened to call security on me.  Her friend tried to calm her down.  I was only trying to get away from her.  Now, I had a hard day, and I had parked the car in that spot 3 hours before I went into work, so I was in the mall area from 12 NN.  I had not moved my car, and I do remember that her car was not parked there before. So, in essence, she was in the wrong, but since she saw I was African American, she thought that maybe she would provoke me, to make a scene, which did not work in her favor.  Maybe she too had a bad day, not getting what she wanted from the stores she shopped at?  Who knows, all I know is I wanted to get home, decompress, and get ready for the night.  I found myself 5 minutes later, sitting on the side of the freeway, crying because this woman decided to pick on me and my spirit.  A freeway officer pulled up behind me and asked me if I was OK.  I told her “no”, and explained to her what happened in the parking garage.  She talked to me for a minute, and that was the best 2-minute conversation I had with a police officer.  She told me to take my time to compose myself before going back on the highway.  I stopped by my parent’s house before going home.   After leaving my parent’s house, I went home, took a hot bath, and forgot about the day.

I should never have to explain myself to anyone who is in the wrong.  I know that now and should never have said anything to that woman who was leaving with her friend.  I thank God that I kept my temper in check and security never came to her supposed rescue.

The Poem is called “What If I’m a Black Woman”.  It was written originally around 1996 and the author is unknown, but I imagine that is was a black woman who wrote it.  Enjoy reading it, and I will talk to you later.

What If I Am a Black Woman?

Is it a disease? Well, if it is, I sure hope its catching
Because they need to pour it into a bottle,
label it, and sprinkle it All over the people
men and women who Ever loved or cried,
worked or died for any one of us.

So...What if I am a Black woman?
Is it a crime? Arrest me!
Because I'm strong, but I'm gentle,
I'm smart, but I'm learning,
I'm loving, but I'm hateful.
And I like to work because
I like to eat and feed and clothe
and house Me, mine
and yours and everybody's,
Like I've been doing for the past 300 years.

What if I am a Black woman?
Is it insane? Commit me!!
Because I want Happiness, not tears;
Truths not lies; Pleasure not pain;
Sunshine not rain; A man not a child!

What if I am a Black woman? Is it a sin?
Pray for me! And pray for you too,
If you don't like women of color
because we are... Midnight Black,
Chestnut Brown, Honey Bronzed,
Chocolate Covered, Cocoa Dipped,
Big Lipped, Big Breasted, and BEAUTIFUL
all at the same time!

So what if I am a Black Woman?
Does it bother you that much because
I want a man who wants me...
Loves me and trusts me, and respects me
And gives me everything because
I give him everything back, PLUS!!

What if I am a Black woman? I've got rights,
same as you! I have worked for them,
died for them, played and laid for them,
On every plantation from Alabama to Boston and Back!

What if I am a Black woman?
I love me, and I want you to love me too,
But I am as I've always been,
Near you, close to you, beside you,
strong giving, loving,

For over 300 years, Your Black woman...Love me!

Now, enjoy a video I took of this group who performed for us last Saturday: