Overwhelmed
by Jac Layton-Brown I’ve never been so overwhelmed before. I’ve never felt so calm yet stressed at the same time before. Things have been affecting my community, the Black Community, for so long. I feel as if I’ve become numb to it all. I’ve grown up seeing it. I’ve grown up hearing about it. I’ve grown up being afraid of it. Lately I’ve been silent. I was affected but I was silent. But once I spoke out, everything that I’ve worried about, everything that I’ve tried to inform others of, has poured out. All the pain, all the anguish, all the sadness, I feel it all. And it’s so much to feel. Jac is a Junior at Franklin High School. She is an active member of Epiphany.
0 Comments
Fed Up
by Catherine Rodriguez, FHS Class of 2018 I was fed anti blackness by the sun on the shore when i was nothing but a young girl being told to embrace the shade because i wouldn't want to get too tan I wouldn't want to get black I was fed anti blackness by the boxes of relaxers that burned my scalp and my six year old tears but beauty was pain I was fed anti blackness when i told my best friend in third grade that I had a crush on our classmate and she laughed saying he was ugly because he was too black as if there was such a thing as being too beautiful my diet continues to extend into emerging adulthood continually fed anti blackness by institutional racism but even after so many stereotypes you never get used to the to the taste after being fed so much anti blackness you get fed up, full of the bullshit that wants to neglect my people from opportunities that were stolen from them from the time they were stolen to the white guy who can keep himself quiet during biology lectures but cant control his mouth from releasing the 2 syllables of “ni**a” when that song comes on who wants to scream reverse racism when I drop a comment about white people the truth must hurt I state the truth about the never extinguished oppression, just disguised oppression “you’re being racist” is the response I get when I call out their privilege as if me keeping it real is offensive it's the black people who get offended and affected by the system in which whites are the sole benefactors, a system of inequality an industry that loves to cast the black as the maid or doormen, catering to the needs of the modern day masters it hurts the chains around our necks that get tighter and tighter every time we pledge allegiance to a flag that doesn't give us freedom here's to my black kings that are too blinded by straight hair and oppositional culture to recognize their black queens that reject us because we tend to be ratchet because we ain't nothing more than some ass to look at on a campus where there ain't much to see my black king, we are here for you do not be flattered by the white girls who love to stroke your brown skin don't let them check you off as a box on their list of fetishes because while she may throw herself at you she refuses to have any ounce of black baby inside her she wants to f**k you but not support you and the ones that do want to have your baby and are willing to fetishize their lightskin children don't know how their moisturize their babies’ hair but love to show off the new standard of beauty you know the ones i'm talking about the ones who love to flex with you in pictures but go ghost as soon as a black lives matter post goes viral and the ones who are there for you the ones who fight for you who are willing to take the lashes the ones who understand you are waiting for you to recognize their worth but you don't see me how could you in a world that silences me because if I say anything that speaks against society I turn into an angry black girl how are the things that I hate most about myself my most black features affirmative action gives them a reason “you're only at cornell because they want diversity” in fact, we are more than a diversity statistic we are statistics of death I'd be damn if instead of worrying that my son become a dealer or a thug that he become a hashtag the blood only gets heavier they say history repeats itself but this history has yet to end my black king, when you sat alone on the bus because they rather stand up than to sit next to you there was a seat next to me my black king, when the class acted like they didn't hear you and the answer you offered was correct but wasn't acknowledged until a white voice repeated it I was impressed with how you computed the result so fast my black king, when you walked into class and received stares from an ocean of blue eyes I was staring too but not out of fear or disgust, but so in awe with the way you walk with your head held high in a world that doesn't love you. because in this world that doesn’t love you, I promise that I will Catherine Rodriguez is a 2018 graduate of Franklin High School, where she was a contributing member of Epiphany. She just completed her sophomore year at Cornell University. She writes under the handle of @sincerelycathy. Protest Poem: Final Words from Lost Mothers
by Kenaisia Sherrod Could it be, perhaps, if I wasn’t me, if this skin wasn’t dark, would you allow me to breathe? Would I have a chance to open my eyes again, do what I’m used to, and leave not with just two, but the "new three”? I can feel the simmering of my blood turn into a rapid boil In your kind, I’ve placed my trust To nurture the seed in the fertile soil But you misled us, you misled the trust, you took my all from me and me from my all And my husband had to watch this process of my breathing drastically fall Am I just another black woman y’all hate Please tell me this isn’t what it seems to be, this isn’t my fate Stop telling our families you’re sorry for their lost because you prematurely labeled this case as “too late” Fire in my belly, my feet are swelling, tell me you could fix this, I know you can save me Instead of watching me die, as I hear the cries of my newborn baby The most beautiful noise I’ve ever heard, to hear that noise, I deserve And your comfortability in taking such happiness from me is what makes it worse When I was younger, I wanted to be just like you, do what you do, tell patients what you knew But if this is it, I don’t want it, I don’t want to be you To think of the black mothers you let die this way, this place is haunted, I don’t want it! All the black babies you dropped on their heads Tell their parents what you want and declared them dead because of a mistake you made instead And it’s the same thing every time A black mother laying in this bed, both her, her family and her newborn baby crying Difference is, the baby’s hurting, daddy’s terrified cause his baby and his lover’s dying I’m screaming out help me and you’re busy trying to tell me to shut up, that I’m so wrong “You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re confused” But I knew I felt these pains all along! Belittling me because the black woman tries to appear so strong We put on this act because this world made us feel as though we don’t belong Yet all of our hearts are the same instruments, even if they don’t play the same song All I ask, give my baby and I the chance, in unison to breathe To see what other families get to see, to be Don’t allow your misdirected hatred take everything from me Kenaisia is a Senior. She wrote this poem for Ms. Barbour's Poetry Today Elective Course. #BLM
by Amy Montoya first thing's first rest in peace to all my young black folks out there trynna make a living but constantly having to LIVE in fear that one day they will be added to the list. the list of hundreds and hundreds of teens dying because of the color of their SKIN. the gunshots loud enough to scare off a whole city of adolescents. the gun shouts loud enough to make our bodies shiver. the gunshots loud enough to scare our careers our dreams out of us. the gunshots that will always be heard unless something is done. until justice really is for all. i pledge allegiance to the government that won’t let my innocent brother, cousin, father, uncle, go. won’t let them free. they did not mean to do any harm. the color of their skin is not a sin. it is not illegal for them to be them. did y’all hear me in the back-- i said it is NOT illegal for them to be them. how many more people need to die--? how many more hashtags need to be made for there to be a change--? white policemen are murdering our future generation. our future doctors, mechanics, technicians, fathers, lawyers. are you gonna stand up to your policemen? or are you just gonna sit there and watch? Amy is a Junior at FHS. She enjoys writing in her free time. She wants to become a writer at Rutgers University. |
About Epiphany
Epiphany Literary Magazine is a safe space for students at Franklin High School to share their creativity. Archives '16-'20
June 2020
Categories
All
|