Centuries In the Making
Dear Estefany,
I am 19 years old, but centuries in the making.
Don't you think that's amazing? We have all been in the making for centuries.
Less than 1% of our biological makeup links us to our ancestors, but the intertwining of our past creators shaped our whole identities.
Before you stands a pale green eyed Dominican girl.
But I am indeed of African descent.
The creation of centuries that depicted prohibited relationships with slaves, later followed by segregation, hate, and pain.
I am the proud older sibling to a beautifully brown, "Morenita" younger sister.
Who's surrounded by people who ask her why we don't look the same.
But when I look at my reflection I can't seem to comprehend the inquisitory questioning
For isn't the blood that runs through my veins the same
And just as heavy as the ones that trickled down the wounds
Inflicted by the whips of a human being
On all those innocent colored children
Isn't the pain of a white girls memory of getting rapped, just as strong as the misery felt by a black mother whose children are being sold away
Those stereotypic inquisitions have been centuries in the making.
I must admit I am filled with anger and shame because I can't seem to fathom how a society of any race could displace a group of people
Harass them based on features
Bomb the churches of black preachers
Steal their last shreds of dignity with thin strips of leather
And then send them into the unknown, from their homes, in numbers unmeasurable
But the "white people", the "right people", the "I am better than you" people
Stood proudly, flaunting their superiority
I think to myself they must've been insane because
All African Americans where trying to obtain ...was equality
Are we not all of the Human race?
Yes, those people too were centuries in the making.
But then again we must admit it takes time to break a chain because centuries spend on being Inhuman
Can be viewed as ok!!
If it's the only view you've been exposed to since the age of three
If it's the only truth you've known growing up as a teen
A white boy stands over an innocent black woman on the floor he's just hurt
And all he sees is dirt
Because his Daddy repeated every day how he was blessed with the gift of intellect
And that those ignorant colored people
Where lower in comparison than the garbage he threw in his trash can
That boy was centuries in the making.
Our clock is ticking by
Our chance to be the change we crave will soon subside
Yes! We as a nation have come far
But our change must be worldwide
There is more slavery now than any other period in time
My three minutes are almost done but three minutes aren't enough to summarize
The struggles of so many lifetimes
You see what we need to do is embrace the Transcendentalism
Because the truth of existence lays outside the reach of physical human senses and perceptions
There is a God above who should fuel your motivation
Don't let the past keep recurring
We need to stray away from such conformity
Let's reach out and capture of essence of individuality
New ideas, New truths, more humanity.
More people like Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, and Malcom X
People who put their lives on the line to undo the wrongs of the rest
People whose words seep into the hearts of a blinded population
and stay imprinted on everyone it affects
I wrote to you before, confused and ashamed
But Now .. As I look around the room
I am blinded by the brightness of our future
A room with passionate young students who have been in the making for centuries
But hold the key to unlock their spiritual destiny
You are the change
And who knows maybe the next Rosa or Dr.King is sitting beside you this very day
Love, Future you, the artist and teacher
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