Black, White or Other
The Registration Card asked
my name.
"Easy"' I thought.
My name has told others
who I am from my birth.
It is who I present to others.
Now it asks my address.
It seeks to locate me.
Where is my place to be?
"Easy again."
My location is numbered
and named.
I am mapped on Google
or any of the other "location" software.
Now it digs deeper.
It searches my gender.
Is it physiology or sexuality?
it needs to know?
Am I now to be further known?
by how I am designed;
by how my genitalia expresses sexuality?
Or does this question attempt to force me
To express who I am
merely by my perception of my sexuality?
How dare this form require me?
to deduce who I am
more thoroughly
than I know myself?
Now to fully categorize the
essence of my being
it demands me to choose one
of three last choices;
one of three to give my allegiance to:
Am I black?
Am I white? or
Am I other?
Am I as black?
black like the wonderful
ebony of my mother?
How wonderfully embracing
her love?
her discipline?
her acceptance?
Am as black as the grace with which she
filled my life with
love and appreciation?
Am I white?
Am I as white,
White like the handsome
Ivory of my father?
How strong he embraced me
Or how his arm around my shoulder
led me to the pier on the lake
Where we cast our lines together.
Where I pulled fish from the water
And Wisdom from the stories of life
As it was lived by my dad?
Or was I "the other"?
What was this unidentified, undefined;
this unknown place of being?
By being "other"
did I live without claiming
my own birthrate?
Was "other" admitting that
I neither could claim allegiance
to the ancestral inheritance
of my mother’s people?
Or does the path of the "other"
lead me to that place of being
that remains disowned by
the proud white fathers
of my Dad's parental history?
It is just a registration form!
It only helps the school
categorize it student population.
"Don't take it personal."
But it seeks to force me
to define myself;
a self that is even now still being shaped.
It is just a simple registration form
Yet it asks me the question
I cannot answer myself
How can I answer?
I am my Mother's child;
the love of her life.
I am all that she dreamed.
Yet, I am my Father's son.
His purpose to be;
The inspiration of
his deepest reason to exist.
I cannot define myself;
not in the terms of this limited
Registration Form.
I leave the form incomplete.
The secretary is angry.
But I cannot answer her.
I have a name; it was given me by those
whose love combined to give me life?
I have an address
It is that place where love creates a home from the
structure of a house.
My address is the place where love and strength nurtured me
and allowed me to grow.
But I am all that was given me.
I am the wealth of both
My Ebony Mother
and My Ivory Father.
So am I the "Other"?
Only if "Other"
is a way to say that
we are finally at an age
where we no longer
define life in terms of
Black or White.
END
my name.
"Easy"' I thought.
My name has told others
who I am from my birth.
It is who I present to others.
Now it asks my address.
It seeks to locate me.
Where is my place to be?
"Easy again."
My location is numbered
and named.
I am mapped on Google
or any of the other "location" software.
Now it digs deeper.
It searches my gender.
Is it physiology or sexuality?
it needs to know?
Am I now to be further known?
by how I am designed;
by how my genitalia expresses sexuality?
Or does this question attempt to force me
To express who I am
merely by my perception of my sexuality?
How dare this form require me?
to deduce who I am
more thoroughly
than I know myself?
Now to fully categorize the
essence of my being
it demands me to choose one
of three last choices;
one of three to give my allegiance to:
Am I black?
Am I white? or
Am I other?
Am I as black?
black like the wonderful
ebony of my mother?
How wonderfully embracing
her love?
her discipline?
her acceptance?
Am as black as the grace with which she
filled my life with
love and appreciation?
Am I white?
Am I as white,
White like the handsome
Ivory of my father?
How strong he embraced me
Or how his arm around my shoulder
led me to the pier on the lake
Where we cast our lines together.
Where I pulled fish from the water
And Wisdom from the stories of life
As it was lived by my dad?
Or was I "the other"?
What was this unidentified, undefined;
this unknown place of being?
By being "other"
did I live without claiming
my own birthrate?
Was "other" admitting that
I neither could claim allegiance
to the ancestral inheritance
of my mother’s people?
Or does the path of the "other"
lead me to that place of being
that remains disowned by
the proud white fathers
of my Dad's parental history?
It is just a registration form!
It only helps the school
categorize it student population.
"Don't take it personal."
But it seeks to force me
to define myself;
a self that is even now still being shaped.
It is just a simple registration form
Yet it asks me the question
I cannot answer myself
How can I answer?
I am my Mother's child;
the love of her life.
I am all that she dreamed.
Yet, I am my Father's son.
His purpose to be;
The inspiration of
his deepest reason to exist.
I cannot define myself;
not in the terms of this limited
Registration Form.
I leave the form incomplete.
The secretary is angry.
But I cannot answer her.
I have a name; it was given me by those
whose love combined to give me life?
I have an address
It is that place where love creates a home from the
structure of a house.
My address is the place where love and strength nurtured me
and allowed me to grow.
But I am all that was given me.
I am the wealth of both
My Ebony Mother
and My Ivory Father.
So am I the "Other"?
Only if "Other"
is a way to say that
we are finally at an age
where we no longer
define life in terms of
Black or White.
END
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