Demolition of heads, bodies, and human rights.

Bloodlines robbed, whipped, and imprisoned.

Tell me, are you proud of that?

The theft and bloodshed that made this land of the free is still being glorified.

Tell me, are you proud of that?

Slowly, my voice grew louder and I could feel  the silence that filled the classroom.

These wounds sink deeper than bullets.

Generations of pain, anxiety and depression.

Tell me, are you proud of that?

After years and years, Generation's still suffering.

But, that doesn't change anything!

In the new Times, new Religions, new Opinions or the changes in Traditions are not even listened to.

Everything is chewed and spat in your face.

You think you're ACCEPTED in this modern World?

Think about it again!

Everyday stereotypes are being intensified.

Tell me, why do people go out of the store quickly, when the Arab man comes in with a bag?

Tell me, why do they stare and watch  with disgusted faces when they see two women kissing or holding hands?

I go to bed at night asking myself this big question that I can't answer.

Tell me, why am I treated this way?

Why do they hate me?

I mean, I see their fake smiles  and how they fake everything.

New Generations must suffer, to find their true identity because they don't know who to be.

Changing Personalities several times a day, to be accepted only in this so called “society”.

But nothing changes, I will always be "the black girl, the Muslim or the bisexual".

They hear my name and already add me to a category.

It's kind of sad to be born into a beautiful world, where your innocent soul is supposed to be loved, but only the opposite is done.

Suddenly I felt one of the girls from my class hug me.

I opened my eyes and the class was very quiet. 

For the first time, I heard one of my classmates, call my name and not “Slave” or “Black girl”. I wiped the  tears away and saw the class door slowly open  in front of my eyes.



Jahsiel Nana Araba Koomson