\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n I.<\/p>\n She is not.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n II.<\/p>\n She is, not in the way you think,<\/p>\n Only in a way a few would understood<\/p>\n Only in a way that matters to her<\/p>\n <\/p>\n III.<\/p>\n A threat of the most innocuous kinds,<\/p>\n Waiting,<\/p>\n Watching,<\/p>\n Her edges bristling with unshed violence,<\/p>\n Hoping to paint something white, red<\/p>\n <\/p>\n IV.<\/p>\n Ada,<\/p>\n Eldest Daughter<\/p>\n Most promised and promising<\/p>\n Best associated with a broom handle<\/p>\n And a shopping cart<\/p>\n <\/p>\n V.<\/p>\n Hand raised, then<\/p>\n “Let’s give someone else a chance to answer”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n VI.<\/p>\n Black and woman are inseparable<\/p>\n And at the same time<\/p>\n She’ll always be one and not the other<\/p>\n <\/p>\n VII.<\/p>\n Joy friendship patience gentleness<\/p>\n Amicability, easily-approached<\/p>\n <\/p>\n VIII.<\/p>\n “Oh, she knows what to do.”<\/p>\n “Of course she figured it out so fast.”<\/p>\n “She knows the answer.”<\/p>\n “If not, then we are lost.”<\/p>\n (Something something something about Black women<\/p>\n and the capes<\/p>\n that are thrust upon us)<\/p>\n <\/p>\n IX.<\/p>\n Chilly next door neighbor,<\/p>\n Keeper of the apartment,<\/p>\n Has specificities about cleaning<\/p>\n That she would like followed<\/p>\n <\/p>\n X.<\/p>\n New girl<\/p>\n <\/p>\n XI.<\/p>\n Too loud too brash too brave<\/p>\n A mirror of insecurity, impervious to its<\/p>\n Own reflections<\/p>\n <\/p>\n XII.<\/p>\n “Brave” “strong” “independent” and all that<\/p>\n <\/p>\n XIII.<\/p>\n Just a Black girl<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n I stand and time turns away from me <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\nTHIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BLACK GIRL\u00a0<\/strong><\/h5>\n
\n<\/h5>\n
Future Past\/Present<\/strong><\/h5>\n
\nSteady sprint, pulling the evanescent present with it
\nOr shoving it behind, out of the way
\n(out of sight out of mind)
\nThe past lags, stubbornly stays put just behind my shoulder
\nNudging my back, keeping me tethered, locked
\nWhile still time races and races and races
\nAnd the past regurgitates what it can
\nAnd the present toys with it, considers it, ignores it
\n(or throws it at me)
\nAnd I continue to stand, gripped by the past
\nPassed by the present
\nChasing the future
\nYou know they say the present and the past
\nAre the closest of friends
\nInseparable in the way that the future is not
\nThe future is distant, aloof, frantic in the unknown
\nWe look toward it
\nWe have no choice<\/p>\n
\n