They say I talk too proper for a black girl
As if vocabulary is a betrayal
As if the way I speak, rewrites my skin color
As if the blood of my ancestors
Didn’t birth brilliance through my veins
My dreams write poetry
As the world burns the books
We are buried with our names on the covers
That leaves no memories to pass down
Were survivors, were leaders
We’re fun And cool
Yet we get no recognition
You want to be like us
You want to have our skin
But you don’t want the struggles
That you created that binds us to this world
Our rhythm is smooth
And our dances are cool
They’re all apart of our story
They’re apart of our souls
This language is carried in legacy
Like the braids I wear down to my back
And the tennis shoes I throw on my feet
Every part of this is mine
I scream to my family that we are free
Because my blackness echos like a song
You want proof, here it is
I am black and I am proud
So don’t call me white washed
I am not that girl
I will speak how I speak
Walk how I walk
And tell these stories how I want
Because talking proper
Doesn’t take away my blackness
I won’t shrink my tongue
So you can hold your opinion
And I can be who I am
Young, gifted, and black
Author’s Note:
I am a mixed race black girl who grew up in the suburbs. I was always told that I am very proper and nice ‘for a black girl.’ Sometimes I would go home and cry because it never felt like I fit in anywhere anymore. So I turned to poetry and this one poem sent butterflies around me and make me feel in control.
Ariyana Janae | 16 | Texas, USA | @youngandwritten on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube
