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#segregation
No one knows that before Rosa Parks refused to stand and give up her seat on the bus, there was me. No one knows that I, Claudette, a girl of 15 years, refused to stand first. No one knows that everyone else in my row obliged all for a single white woman. No one knows that I was arrested, charged with disturbing the peace, violating segregation laws, and assaulting an officer (I'd never do that). No one knows that I was not the spark because they didn't like my face, didn't like how young I was, didn't like how later, I became a teen mom. No one questioned Rosa Parks. No one knows that I was first.
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Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 5:33 PM UTC
From Claudette
Poem- To the past & present Hanging from the shame Of my privileged supremisist height Choking on the knowledge That until now I didn't fight Eyes silenced hard From systemic white view All lives don't matter Until your lives matter too A product of white history I wish I could reverse Where all mankind are equal For real not just in verse Anger and great shame come banging on my soul Prejudiced leden centuries and inhumane forms of control I promise from today Your fight becomes my fight too I pray you'll accept from my heart This apology to you.......... -  I am sorry I am sorry on behalf of my ancestors and the part of history that affects you. I am sorry for any part I may have played through being only Non-racist instead of Anti-racist. I am sorry that I didn't educate myself earlier. I am sorry that it has taken yet another death, for me to stand up and fight. I have always shot down racism with my words, but I have failed to completely understand it. For these and more that I still have to learn, I am sorry.
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Jun 6, 2020
Jun 6, 2020 at 1:04 PM UTC
Racism... To the past and present
Honey-flowing rivulets of jazz-beaten syncope, Trumpets blowing smoke across the room, ‘Curveball’ Sammy hustles bass behind the bar, Snares his songbird in a played back loop. Harlem shufflers work the floor, breaking safe, Clave rhythm scufflers with a New York twist, Black keys write with borrowed brass on iv’ry walls, Pick the lock on a swelt’ring southern riff.
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Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 10:39 PM UTC
Jazz Club
Oh, you seed of mankind. You who reside in the same Coloured white ***** You carry the sex-determining chromosome. Before union with female egg, human colour was same. After fertilization, emerged different coloured humans. Oh melanin, you who determine our skin colour. You went as far as differentiating our hair colour. What have you done? Are you to blame for racial discrimination? Maybe blame theory of evolution. Oh no I blame you mankind. God gave men brains of a kind. The kind, that knows wrong from right. In the image of God, mankind was created. Colour was not restricted. I urge mankind across all racial groups. A plead to all *** groups. There’s more to what you see in the mirror. It was microscopically a seed within white ***** We might differ racially, men and women. We came from same coloured seed.
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Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 5:17 PM UTC
We were all once white: why racial discrimination
Castigate! Fill with hate! Expose their views at any rate! Interrogate! Segregate! Expose their lives at any rate! Disintegrate! Celebrate! Expose your own life at any rate!
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Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 9:42 AM UTC
At Any Rate
All these years have passed and still nothing has changed, So we have to march, Against the abomination of colour segregation, I'm just tired of all the lies I want to know what's real, If I stand by your side will you show me the deal? I’ve got the moon and the stars beneath my feet, Will that be enough to free my speech? Tried to climb peaks that were placed deliberately out of our reach, They envy my life but I envy theirs, Heaven looks great until you have to climb the stairs, I capture my emotions in a liquor potion, It's all good swimming with your tears in the ocean, And if I can sleep tonight, I'll let them know I wasn't afraid of the light, Can you feel the fluttering inside? Just come lay with me on my side, And let's both watch the butterflies fly out of our eyes.
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Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 12:57 PM UTC
Butterflies In Our Eyes
Today we have the labeling of people groups. Yesterday we had the suggestion of an inherent disposition to dishonesty and violence in some groups. Tomorrow we will have the careful counting of individuals and the placing of individuals into each people group. But today, today we have the labeling of people groups. For those of you who are new here, we recommend this period drama underlining racial differences with a subtle suggestion of inferior intellect in some groups indigenous to warmer climes. And here we have a persuasive and tabloid friendly research paper that hints that children of mixed race tend to struggle in school. You'll be relieved to see that it hasn't any distracting data. And on the shelf beneath you'll see there's a picture book version for younger children. Over here is the arbitary divide between us and them, with a useful circle of arguments to differentiate ourselves from others. Here we have colour coded lables to more easily distinguish between  people groups. Yes, that's correct, we have three labels: white, black and, a recent addition which is now available for added distinction, rainbow. Oh yes, when engaging in any discussions, for your own safety please ensure you wear these ear defenders. To ensure a free flow of visitors we have erected large signs in three languages marking where charity at home ends. Yes, after rigorous focus group testing we have selected the English language in three font sizes. We are coming to the end of this orientation tour.  Please note the subtle but effective shedding of compassion for those who appear or sound different to us. This underpins the necessary disregard for the rights of others that we assume for ourselves and for those like us. It is almost imperceptible I think you'll agree. But the priority for today, as I say, is the labeling of people groups.  No questions. Shall we begin?
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Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 2:16 PM UTC
The labeling of people groups
Today we have the labeling of people groups. Yesterday we had the suggestion of an inherent disposition to dishonesty and violence in some groups. Tomorrow we will have the careful counting of individuals and the placing of individuals into each people group. But today, today we have the labeling of people groups. For those of you who are new here, we recommend this period drama underlining racial differences with a subtle suggestion of inferior intellect in some groups indigenous to warmer climes. And here we have a persuasive and tabloid friendly research paper that hints that children of mixed race tend to struggle in school. You'll be relieved to see that it hasn't any distracting data. And on the shelf beneath you'll see there's a picture book version for younger children. Over here is the arbitary divide between us and them, with a useful circle of arguments to differentiate ourselves from others. Here we have colour coded lables to more easily distinguish between  people groups. Yes, that's correct, we have three labels: white, black and, a recent addition which is now available for added distinction, rainbow. Oh yes, when engaging in any discussions, for your own safety please ensure you wear these ear defenders. To ensure a free flow of visitors we have erected large signs in three languages marking where charity at home ends. Yes, after rigorous focus group testing we have selected the English language in three font sizes. We are coming to the end of this orientation tour.  Please note the subtle but effective shedding of compassion for those who appear or sound different to us. This underpins the necessary disregard for the rights of others that we assume for ourselves and for those like us. It is almost imperceptible I think you'll agree. But the priority for today, as I say, is the labeling of people groups.  No questions. Shall we begin?
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16
We are allowed to be unkind To the sick, the deaf and the blind. We gladly toss them into a ditch. They don't matter; They are not rich. We giggle and count what we’ve got Laugh uproariously at those who have not. We call our poor neighbors our inferiors Because having money makes one superior. It also works the same with every race. Supremacy is about the color of your face. It starts there and moves to include nationality. Only Caucasian Americans match our reality. Sure non-whites can pick our cotton for us But, as for equality, the concept will bore us. It says in the Bible you have to be from here And white and Protestant, those words are clear. And this stuff about **** and lesbians too Not one word of that civil rights stuff is true. My preacher told me gay people are abomination. That’s why us Republicans support segregation. That's some of what is wrong with our schools Somebody has been listening to communist fools. We need to get back to the good way things were Before all this equality stuff was allowed to occur. I tell you the truth, this stuff totally makes me burn. I mean, these college-warped hippies need to learn That this country is a Christian one, since beginning So, we don’t want this equality stuff you’re selling. Just shine our shoes and park our expensive cars And we’ll tip you a little bit and there you are; Right there in the place all of you ought to be; Freedom is for us rich whites, it’s American history.
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Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 4:27 PM UTC
WHAT BIGOTS BELIEVE
Many would take it as the midway station to heaven nineteen hundred miles up can heaven be far away? Some would even think that sixty three million years is eternal enough especially for those hopeless potbellied souls knowing that it’s impossible for them to pass through the tiny eye of a needle here, God is not the Final Judge Of course there are details to be worked out for instance, should there be racial segregation like that in the old South Africa so as to preserve the purity of the ashes? Or, as long as they can afford to pay should even dogs and cats be allowed? * Many years ago a Houston space service company had a plan to send human ashes into space. According to the plan, ten thousand human remains would orbit the earth at a distance of nineteen hundred miles for a minimum of sixty-three million years.
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Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 1:49 PM UTC
SPACE INCARNATION
We marched because They told us we couldn’t march. We loved because They told us we couldn’t love. We married because They told us we couldn’t marry. We ran for office because They told us we couldn’t run. Freedom is for everyone Not just for the few. If any group is left out The word is not true. We applied for jobs When they said we could not We applied for loans But they tore up the applications. We manned picket lines When they said they’d **** us. We put in for promotions When they told us we wouldn't win. Freedom being for everyone Should not be a dream. We should not have to explain Why things aren’t as they seem. We heard the words That said Land of the free, We heard the carols Peace on earth to all men. We read the Constitution That we all of us were equal. We remembered our schoolwork That, segregated, taught these words. Freedom is for everyone Not just for the few. If any group is left out The word is not true.
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Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 6:11 PM UTC
A BEAUTIFUL WORD
Do we remember John? He was what we'd call a Simpleton, Back when we were young. He stood in his brown cloth coat, Carried a notepad and a pen, We suspected he had half a tongue, Making notes on roadside lawns, Near every manhole. John was busy inside his head, We never got a word he said. Who was John before John was dead? Did you know Stanley? We didn't see him much. He'd appear in the hood on holidays. Probably went to New Hope School, Where he was kept. Stanley swore a lot, He threw snot, drooled and spit at us. We poked fun, and provoked, Felt blameless, For Stanley's condition was kept from us. Segregated, And not because of colour.
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Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 9:34 AM UTC
Not Because of Colour
Heather lives outside the city a ways Just like her mom and her mom before that It’s the quiet life of long flat horizons And everybody loves God just the same Kaeja lives in the city It’s not the nicest place to grow up She’s older now than she knows She’s poor but somebody gave her the blame They both go to church But are the reasons the same? Is it about hope? Is it about pain? They both pray for the sun They both pray for the rain But though the pavement grows no flowers There is no cross that is drawn in vain Heather loved the smell when Daddy mowed Kaeja painted the sidewalk green They both love gospel music They both love to sing But filling a cup made of broken glass Is like pretending paint is really grass They had a thought about one another White is night and black is day That’s what they thought Being apart turned their minds upside down But one day they reached for the same carton of eggs And their eyes met where Jesus scars bear no shame Heather asked, "Do I know you?" Kaeja said, "Yes, now you do" She decided to give her the eggs And Heather said, "No, they’re for you" But they divided them up instead of buying two And they said half of one is better than one you never knew They both go to church But are the reasons the same? Is it about hope? Is it about pain? They both pray for the sun They both pray for the rain But though the pavement grows no flowers There is no cross that is drawn in vain
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Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 10:10 PM UTC
Green Grass Green Streets
LA California Starting on the bus Just shy of 2,600 miles to go Florida or bust! All alone and slightly scared I got into my seat There was excitement in the air Anticipation sweet At 19 and still a babe I was sure grass green No carry-on to worry about $20 in my jeans I was a waif of a girl Pixie-like and fey The men-folk all were looking As I got on the bus that day Naive, I didn't notice But the black woman, she did Though she had 5 babes with her Next to me she slid That lady sure had carry-on! Ice Coolers and bags Her kids were toting it all on Dressed in their best rags They had the jitters in their legs As in their seats they jumped She was smiling, jovial, Substantial and plump. "How you doin', Missy! Where you going to?" "Clearwater, Florida" I said to her "Hey, ma'am, how 'bout you?" "A town in Mississippi You wouldn't know the name, But it's where I've lived my life It's home just the same. "What's your name then, Missy? Lands! You're goin' far!" "Ma'am, my name is Cathy, Yep. This trip's gonna be hard!" She said her name was Elsie Her smile was sweet and good She reached into her cooler And broke out some food! And what food! Hot Fried Chicken! Fresh made that same day! Collard greens and hush puppies That gal fed me the whole way! Corn on the cob and ice cold pop Sweet potato pie Best food I've ever eaten I tell you no lie! We did a lot of talkin' Durin' that long ride. I found out she loved Jesus When she talked of Him she cried. I didn't understand it It was something that I missed, Headed for Scientology Raised an atheist. It left a great impression Though didn't know it then. I accepted Him much later And I remembered when. She told me His value, She told me His cost. She got off in a town You could throw a rock across. I helped her with her baggage Scared to be alone... There was a ******* standing there Eyes hard and cold as stones I was so offended "What you lookin' at? He rolled his chaw within his mouth Disdainfully he spat. "At choo, ****** lover... You is quaaht a sight Movin' that ol' niggah's bags Even tho you white." "God bless you for sneezing". I said acidly "This lady needed her some help. This country is still free". "Don' mind him", Elsie whispered And she was plainly scared Not for herself. But for myself! And for the feelings that I aired. "Get back on the bus now!" She gave the man a look By then some of her men-folk Had come over to help. I got back on that Greyhound, Just as I was bid, Didn't know I was in danger But that black lady did. The rest of that trip was painful When I reached New Orleans My ankles were so swollen They almost tore my jeans. But I arrived in Clearwater Tired yet unscathed. I'll never forget Elsie Who helped me on the way. **When I accepted Jesus I will tell you frank I remembered Elsie's witness I have her to thank.** SoulSurvivor (C) 7/3/2016
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:42 PM UTC
The 2,600 Mile Greyhound Bus
LA California Starting on the bus Just shy of 2,600 miles to go Florida or bust! All alone and slightly scared I got into my seat There was excitement in the air Anticipation sweet At 19 and still a babe I was sure grass green No carry-on to worry about $20 in my jeans I was a waif of a girl Pixie-like and fey The men-folk all were looking As I got on the bus that day Naive, I didn't notice But the black woman, she did Though she had 5 babes with her Next to me she slid That lady sure had carry-on! Ice Coolers and bags Her kids were toting it all on Dressed in their best rags They had the jitters in their legs As in their seats they jumped She was smiling, jovial, Substantial and plump. "How you doin', Missy! Where you going to?" "Clearwater, Florida" I said to her "Hey, ma'am, how 'bout you?" "A town in Mississippi You wouldn't know the name, But it's where I've lived my life It's home just the same. "What's your name then, Missy? Lands! You're goin' far!" "Ma'am, my name is Cathy, Yep. This trip's gonna be hard!" She said her name was Elsie Her smile was sweet and good She reached into her cooler And broke out some food! And what food! Hot Fried Chicken! Fresh made that same day! Collard greens and hush puppies That gal fed me the whole way! Corn on the cob and ice cold pop Sweet potato pie Best food I've ever eaten I tell you no lie! We did a lot of talkin' Durin' that long ride. I found out she loved Jesus When she talked of Him she cried. I didn't understand it It was something that I missed, Headed for Scientology Raised an atheist. It left a great impression Though didn't know it then. I accepted Him much later And I remembered when. She told me His value, She told me His cost. She got off in a town You could throw a rock across. I helped her with her baggage Scared to be alone... There was a ******* standing there Eyes hard and cold as stones I was so offended "What you lookin' at? He rolled his chaw within his mouth Disdainfully he spat. "At choo, ****** lover... You is quaaht a sight Movin' that ol' niggah's bags Even tho you white." "God bless you for sneezing". I said acidly "This lady needed her some help. This country is still free". "Don' mind him", Elsie whispered And she was plainly scared Not for herself. But for myself! And for the feelings that I aired. "Get back on the bus now!" She gave the man a look By then some of her men-folk Had come over to help. I got back on that Greyhound, Just as I was bid, Didn't know I was in danger But that black lady did. The rest of that trip was painful When I reached New Orleans My ankles were so swollen They almost tore my jeans. But I arrived in Clearwater Tired yet unscathed. I'll never forget Elsie Who helped me on the way. **When I accepted Jesus I will tell you frank I remembered Elsie's witness I have her to thank.** SoulSurvivor (C) 7/3/2016
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110
There were no blacks In our part of town No Asians, no Latinos None of them around. There were Italians, They were treated well. But anyone of color Might run into hell. Pastel America Everything sort of beige. It’s good to be pink in America. Caucasian is all the rage. Whenever movies showed A crowd of good folk They were all Caucasian And this is not a joke. I was raised on TV shows Like Lassie and ****** And there were no blacks Living near the Cleavers. There was no understanding Of life for any non-whites. When I grew up I saw That little I learned was right. Pastel America Everything sort of beige. It’s good to be pink in America. Caucasian is all the rage. Whenever movies showed A crowd of good folk They were all Caucasian And this is not a joke. There were radio stations then Where black music could not play. They had to get around that Some other sneaky way. That’s how we got Elvis, To fill that gaping lack. He got his first opportunity Because he sounded black. Pastel America Everything sort of beige. It’s good to be pink in America. Caucasian is all the rage. Maybe it will change someday When we all celebrate The diversity of humanity. Wouldn’t that be great?
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
PASTEL AMERICA
Girl. the word that separates and complicates making each of us, less equal I’m a girl and rarely   have I ever been treated fairly. We are all human and should be treated as one. So why am I not allowed to kick the ball and run? Just like a white crayon you think I useless. But you’re just really clueless, because I CAN. yet at the same time I can’t, since the men are on top you see high above any other don’t take it as a bother being  below and under and where we will be. Because I’m just a girl,I’m not treated fairly The Overbolded Beauty © 2016
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC
Synonymous to Segregation
Where are those killing fields? They are wherever we see The Master Race ignoring Peace, love and equality. If you’re not white And your state is red, Don’t be surprised If you end up dead. As maybe some one Will beat on your head And demand to know What goes on in your bed. If you are any race But Holy Caucasian Like African or Inuit, Mexican or Asian That includes Islam And all such nations The bigots will hate On every occasion. Where are those killing fields? They are wherever we see The Master Race ignoring Peace, love and equality. In World War Two we Fought against fascism And now we entertain An unholy American schism In which Americans plan With gleeful fanaticism To make every effort To maintain totalitarianism. For over two centuries We have sung of equality And the inalienable rights Of American humanity. We continue to fight now But it has become a calamity Because now we are fighting Within each of our families. Where are those killing fields? They are wherever we see The Master Race ignoring Peace, love and equality.
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May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 5:57 PM UTC
KILLING FIELDS OF THE USA