They love our headwraps,
The way the do-rag’s elegant colors and prints
Curve and caress their way around our hair.

They love our hair,
The way our kinks, curls, and coils
Frame our elegant faces with such pride.

They love our faces,
The way the chocolate melts into our eyes
And drips down along our arms and stomachs.

They love our food,
The way the lingering taste
Of Creole and soul food
Makes their skin seize with satisfaction.

They love our skin,
“Sunkissed is never the right word,” they say,
Infatuated with how the melanin encases
Our muscles and tendons and smiles.

They love the sound of us,
The way our words and notes curl
Around the saxophones and double bass

So why is it,
That these people who claim to love everything about us
Seem to love everything about us,
But us?

 

WORDS FROM THE AUTHOR
Kennedy Griffin

This past marking period has become one of the defining moments up to this point in my life where I have been able to focus time and time again on the different challenges I face as an African American. One of the ironic instances I found myself coming back to was the fact that cultural appropriation has almost become a normal, everyday occurrence for things that come from African American roots. Everything from our food to our head-wraps and hair techniques has been taken by others with the claim that they’re suddenly something “new” or “innovative”. Meanwhile, people of color themselves are still pushed to the sidelines, the financial, societal, and political wars their fighting for equality being forgotten. This poem serves as a means to remind everyone that we see what’s happening with our culture. We know all too well that everything we have been reaching for is still out of our grasp. So, I wanted to write something that, hopefully, a little while from now, I will be able to read and think to myself, “I’m glad things are different now.”

REVISION DECISION
The revisions I made to this poem included reconstructing the end of each stanza in order to help flow into the beginning of the next stanza. For example, one stanza ends with, “Frame our elegant faces with such pride,” and the next begins with, “They love our faces.” Although I wasn’t able to do this as smoothly with every single stanza, I feel that the places in which I was able to do so worked beautifully. Moreover, I added a section on food not only to give the poem length but also because the food is something that has bound African Americans together for thousands of years. The best feature within this poem would be the very last stanza, in which I remind the reader that this isn’t simply about a boastful pride for being a person of color, but also a reminder that there is a serious societal issue going on. The question at the very end is meant to push the reader deep into thought about what they have just read/heard. Overall, I am very proud of this piece and would love for people to hear it and walk away feeling something long-lasting about it.