What Is Your Race?

What Is Your Race?

I'm mixed. NO,NO,NO! I'm lightskined. NO,NO,NO!. I'm Black, as a matter of a fact the pigmentation in my skin doesn't define the blood that is within. You see over 400 years old I was enslaved and I still am today. I cannot break these chains for the label of my name is put into a frame, and who is left to blame?

I'm White. Nahh. I'm Mexican. NO! I am Black, as a matter of a fact; they see me weak. It's as if my own Rosa Parks wasn't just sitting in that seat, as if I still have chains on my feet, and I am not free.Now I have a never ending fine, because I take pride in what is mine.

 Being Black gives me no vindication as if my education never came from before the first generation of the slaves nation. Now I can read as I cry evey night on my knees begging to God. My pleas beging to seize because Momma says "black dont crack", and I believe that.

Blacks are to be retarded, but every black graduate is never rewarded. Never mind we don't applaud it, instead we disreguard it. How hard we worked to get the name so much we reign. Instead we should begin to sing and relize HBCU's have a dream.

I am Black. Like the spots on a cow, the stripes on a zebra, or like the name Doretha. I am Black like the tradition of my African roots. Like the boat that my distant mother was thrown afloat. I am Black and proud. I wasn't there then, but I am now, and I intend to make a very loud sound.