Speaking into the air, he sang
sung, and preached mainly on one
subject.
"Playing the black card again."
As if that was the epitome of who
he was and is.
As if racism wasn't over and still existed.
Segregation isn't a thing anymore.
Who cares?
People don't get lynched anymore.
It's not like we don't have all the same
opportunities, don't all go to the same schools,
can't all apply for government assistance to get into college.
The media doesn't tell the truth.
Everyone knows that.
Blue on black crime is way
over reported.

This is the voice of many people in my hometown,
bouncing through my head,
ringing in my ears,
as it comes from their loud mouths
and closed minds and covered ears.
This is the voice of all the propaganda
and rhetoric I was fed as a kid.

Don't get it wrong,
I wasn't raised a racist.
My mother always told me that if you
treated them like you treated anyone else,
that nothing would happen.

I internalized it as "treat everyone the same."
It was years later before I realized the subtext,
the subtle divisive and splitting
nature her words had.
"Us and them."

The subconscious is a *****.

I had a cousin that married a black man.
She was ostracized in the family for
a long time.
My mother was the only one that stood
up for her.
Years after this incident my
niece started dating one of my black friends.
His name is not Token.
They were in love and everyone was
delighted for them.
There were flowers, it was mushy and sickening.
Everyone but my mother.
She pitched a fit, and did everything
she could to destroy the relationship.

I remember calling her and trying to
talk some sense into her.
Of course, it didn't work.
I was emotional,
and for the first and only time in my life,
I told my mom I was disappointed in her.

And I hear this man speaking up here,
talking about matters close to his heart,
and then I hear the white privilege
whispering in my own ear,
and I silence it.

Of course his color has colored his life.
In just the same way my pale skin
has made me blind and often insensitive to the
injustices anywhere which are injustices
everywhere.
And I can quote Dr. King,
but I can't know how he felt.

I don't trust people that say they don't see color.
If you can't see color then you must only
see the blinding white of your own privilege.
If you can't differentiate between one skin
color and another
how in the **** can you possibly speak on
prejudice?

Not being racist does not mean not seeing color.
Not being racist means putting aside your pride and
seeing your color as well as everyone else's.

I am inherently racist because of where I come from.
The system we live in was built on racism.
Isn't it possible the system is racist as well?