Your generation
doesn’t excuse
your racism.

Your ignorance
doesn’t get
you a pass.

“Everyone was
like that”
is not a
reason.

Your words
and attitude
still hold weight
now.

It is not,
nor will it ever
be
OK.

It’s your job
and mine
to gouge it
out.

Because we
didn’t stop
being racist —
we just
got better
at covering
it
up.

If you want
to do better,
then do
better.

I will not
shield your
fragile soul —

like you haven’t
shielded others
from yours.

And I expect
the same
of you
for me.

We own
the knife
we wield.

---

Marginalia

This reflects an argument I had with my sister at our father’s hospital bedside.
I’m tired of the “not all people” refrain, the excuses we make for ourselves and others.
Let’s do our dirty work.
Reach into our rot.
Get comfortable.
Let’s not
look
away.

I hate racism, and how it’s woven into society.
I stay vigilant for its insidious appearances—and when I see them, I name them.
I stay with the discomfort,
refuse to look away.

I believe racism played a part in the erasure of my mother’s lineage.
I explore this in It Began with a Name—that history still lives in me.
Witnessing and naming it is my reckoning.