I am black,  

I am a woman.

I wake up every day a black woman.

What does that mean?

You tell me.

Those that place inevitable stereotypes upon me.

Those who tense when I walk by.

Those whose faces gleam with shock

as you hear I intend to fulfill my education.

Those who are surprised I’m close to my father.

Those who aren’t surprised my parents aren’t together.

Those that judge me because I speak with “proper” English.

Those who insist I stay within my stereotypical boundaries.

Those who didn’t want me to befriend their children.

Those who will pay me less because of what’s between my legs,

not because of what’s between my ears.

Those that want me to stay in my role,

…though they have yet to tell me specifically.

Those who insinuate that I don’t represent typical feminine beauty.

Those that allow their old, ignorant mindset

to infringe on their current beliefs,

ultimately preventing themselves from evolving.

Those that refuse that prejudice still exists.

You tell me.