Inherited Insecurity Sana’ Richards My smiling lips, joined by sad eyes, are only the tip of the iceberg for this person that you see Beneath my everything that makes me, me Is my inherited insecurity Melanin has rendered my skin darker Subjecting me to the darkness of humanity The depths of how devastating misinterpreting differences can be My people were kings: they were proud, they were strong, they were warriors And they were classified as savages deserving of slavery Seeds ripped from the soil that had reaped prosperity, And planted in stolen land among weeds Ravaged by parasites that took the life that they breathed Because watching my people wither was akin to a need We became cargo, we became slaves, We became property, dehumanized to our graves I am every person on that slave ship, every person on that field,
Every person who has been whipped, flogged, beaten, and killed Because if I had been there, it would’ve been me; that’s the destiny I would’ve fulfilled My inherited insecurity is embedded in the fact that I’m Caribbean Canadian, or African Canadian, or African American, or is it only just African? And now I know why no matter what countries we find ourselves in, we call ourselves Black, Because having more melanin in our skin has revealed all the light that humanity universally lacks Now you still have time to go away, turn, and never look back Because this iceberg goes much deeper than just the fact that I’m Black I’m a Black female Yes, this is different, Yes, this is distinct, Yes, we are more marginalised than you would ever think Lesser than the Black man, lesser than the White woman, struggling to figure out how we fit into the mould being human Are we the Mammy, or the Jezebel? Too masculine, or just invisible?
Collective Reflections | CultureSHOCK! | 47
