Spoken Word

January 21, 2019 by Guest Student Author

by Yanique Jacques

 

I was once told that black women are like donkeys.

Hideous

Discolored

Flea infested mutations,

With big lips

And hips

Made to be whipped along

And placed in a hierarchy

Where we are stepped on

Like a staircase leading others up to a higher place.

 

I was once asked if black woman are like donkeys

Because like their ancestors,

like the wild African ass,

Our ancestors spirit resides in the hot sun of Africa too

Calling out to us too,

Praying for us too,

Asking the world to set us free from shackles that bound us to racism.

 

But,

I think that black women are like donkeys

Carrying the weight of the world on our backs,

Lugging along with us all the cocoa butter, And rice

Pulling along with us all the braids and cornrows embedded in our heads

Yanking along with us all the Barrett’s and at hot combs

Heaving along with us all the food stamps and imprisoned fathers

Jerking along with us all our brothers and sisters and pastors

Dragging along with us all the hate and brutality

That resides within- all the memories of our blackness and our homes

Truly, Carrying the weight of the world,

On the account of others.

 

 

I am like a donkey

I’m an ass

Strong

Smart

And though it is hard to see

through the thick fur of stereotypes and misogyny,

I am beautiful.

Please take the time to cut me at my waist

Open up

Unfold me

Turn me inside out

You’ll be able to see why my palm is a different color than the back of my hand

You’ll be able to peer into my femininity and discover why my

Hips, and lips, and arms, and my thighs are overflowing with greatness

You will able to see that my donkey body is the makeup of sculptors' clay

And painters' paint

That the universe took their time to precisely pick out for me.

 

Like a donkey I was born free,

I was born into this world like any other animal

like the elephants who grace the savanna so brightly

And Yet, like a donkey

I’m

Hideous

Discolored

With big lips

And hips

Made to be whipped along

And placed in a hierarchy

Where I am stepped on

Like a staircase leading others up higher than me.

I am a black woman.

Written by Guest Student Author

Periodically students volunteer or are asked to write for the Stoneleigh-Burnham blog.

Filed Under: student voice, anti-racism, Martin Luther King Day, Students of Color, Black pride