As I sat in the middle of my classroom. I began to notice the never-ending tone that surrounds me. The blank white walls, the educated white professor, and the uneven ratio of white students. As I’m half giving my attention to this class, I’ve decided to focus more on a letter to the white students who don’t understand my blackness.
To my Caucasian counterparts:
I give my condolences to all who do not understand my history. To the veil that shields your eyes from seeing tat there is a problem with me being the only black child in your presence. To your peers who think remaining ignorant is the way to knowledge. The ones who think telling us to go back to Africa, like they got the money to build the ship to take us back. You know the ones that try to discredit our children. Not realizing the Birth of the Nation was created out the black mothers womb. Oh, you know the Make America Great Again, type folks, who wave the confederate flag around like a symbol of hope. Not realizing this flag is a dinner bell to the KKK to come lynch our lives away. So I apologize, if the beauty of my skin offends you, I’m sorry if my black ness is too much for you to handle, just remember the blackness of night, is what gives light to a new day. So as I sit, as a vessel of history in front of you, please remember even though this room is all white, my black power won’t go away.