8 This Piece Doesn’t End, I Just Stop Writing Things Down
Created by LaKeisha Morris
I was revising my resume
Because I realized some code (then, if I’m lucky, real eyes) would be
Scanning it for all the right words, the right skills, the right
Students
As the freshest fruit, plucked from graduating classes
That managed to pass during a pandemic
And the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement,
Reignited when another Black person’s life was snuffed out
And people took notice and took to the streets.
I remember how hopeful I was
Seeing people all over the country marching, masked,
How like before, the volume of videos of cops brutalizing peaceful protesters
Made my heart ache and blood boil.
I always cared about social justice as a subject
And was aware that racism still existed, but didn’t take the
Steps to seek out the bigger picture until
The topic of police brutality made headlines
When I was a high schooler.
I’m now in my 20s and well-read
And black has taken over my wardrobe.
My art as a weapon, a canvas the warzone.
I keep typing on that resume- each manicured word is
Increasing the chance that I’ll be seen and heard
By some interviewer, on Zoom,
Who will probably read off some document,
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”
I might say “I see myself in the mirror and blackness looks back,
Black curls in braids or maybe
Twists. I see myself in Timnit Gebru
And wonder why bother doing grad school
Giving away pieces of my personhood by pen-stroke to advance this field
when “ethical, diverse” companies could reject me for being both of those things.
Some days I don’t see anything because life feels unreal.
I see myself in rhymes written about melanin, eliminating structural racism, and
How ironic it is that people must fight for peace.
The streets may be quieter, but the work has not ceased.
I see myself digging my heels into the earth during this tug-of-war to make things a bit better
Before they get a whole lot worse.
Give racists an inch, they’ll take a mile, take a
Life, take our rights again in different ways.
But this is about me in five years.
A future made better by the strides I make
In anti-racism work is priceless.
Maybe I’ll stay hopeful if I am reminded of the beauty that my Black life is.”
But I’d likely robotically recite my plans to be
Busy working for them.
As I write this, I wonder what carefully rehearsed expression
Would be plastered on my face.
People won’t see my degree, journey, or hard work first,
They will always see my race.
I’d like to think I’m living in the future, but I’m in the right now.
I cut my heart open like a pomegranate and this is what I found.
I want to be a person first, but the Black can’t come second.
I want to prioritize classes,
But there is so much work to be done to fight racism and so few people caring about it.
I’m not afraid of death, I’m worried about
Who and what I’d be leaving behind,
That I failed to help make the world
A better place for humankind.
I thought of Toyin Salau today, that
Pushed me past my limit and I mourned once again.
Black women deserve to feel safe every day.
Racism is just one puzzle piece to the problems plaguing society.
Tears on my face and in my heart will just have
To dry and scar over, no breaks in or brakes on my movement.
I wonder how many people are aware
Of the trauma and anxiety experienced by Black folks
In relation to their proximity to claustrophobic systems whose
Design included white supremacy in the blueprint.
Abstracted, extracted, poorly disguised,
Hidden behind another layer and presented as progress.
Sewn into the fabric of society,
Etched into the lens the world views Black people through.
Murder, mass incarceration, discrimination,
Micro-aggressions, colorism, cultural appropriation,
I can’t predict where I’d be in five years if I can’t
Even predict if the world will be a better place in
Six months for me, my Black peers, relatives, neighbors, friends.
In the end, at least I find solace in the murals I see downtown.
I can’t force myself to end this with something mind-blowing and profound.
I’d like to think I’m living in the future, but I’m in the right now.
This piece doesn’t end, I just stop writing things
Down.