Breathe N

Breathe. Must be hard to do with the weight of racism on your neck.

Lock the doors. Though it won’t stop the police from bursting in.

I thought the saying goes “innocent until proven guilty” so why do police treat us like we’re guilty even after proven innocent?

It’s almost like we expect it to come. Preparing ourselves long before it does. Knowing it will.

The fear of another unjustified death begins to swallow us whole and place worry into our hearts.

Our hoods are often baby sat by officers. I didn’t know hanging out with friends was a crime. Seems we can’t even do that in peace without sirens clashing through the silence and replacing it with suspense and curiosity.

Another body. Another funeral. Another death with no justice.

We scream, march and cry. Yet we still awake to the news of another loved one, lost in the misfortune of the ongoing racist fight.

No more hugs for him. No more kisses from her. No more dinners at the park with them. All because of the hate for a darker complexion.

We can’t eat, can't sleep. Can’t live our lives without an officer trying to snatch it away.

Our true beauty cannot be admired properly from our caskets. Our uniqueness cannot be faked nor replaced.

We are all our own original versions of ourselves. Gorgeous as we are.

Our black beauty is taken for granted. Our worth is valued less than it should be.

We rise above on our wings of hope and perseverance, for we know, we will win our justice. No matter how long it shall take.

Pouring our blood, sweat and tears into all we do, because in the end, we will never surrender to the likes of you.

N. P., Grade 8 Northeast Middle School, Minneapolis Teaching Artist, Frank Sentwali