avatarBrother Kage

Summary

The text is a poignant reflection on the struggles and injustices faced by Black individuals, emphasizing the resilience and humanity of those impacted by systemic racism and police violence.

Abstract

The author of the text expresses a deep dissatisfaction with the current state of society, where systemic oppression and violence against Black individuals are prevalent. The piece touches on the dehumanization and racial bias that perpetuate inequality, referencing the tragic case of Jacob Blake and others like him. It critiques the societal structures that value lighter skin over darker, and the consequent marginalization that leads to silencing and incarceration of Black voices. Despite the pain and frustration, there is a defiant call for recognition and change, a commitment to speaking out against injustice, and a hope that truth and strength will prevail for future generations.

Opinions

  • The author feels that society is complicit in perpetuating a system that undervalues Black lives, treating them as casualties of both real lies and superficial beliefs.
  • There is a critical view of the justice system, which is seen as biased against people with darker skin, equating dark skin with criminality.
  • The text suggests that societal structures are designed to benefit a privileged few at the expense of the marginalized, particularly Black communities.
  • The author expresses a personal resolve to not succumb to shame or societal pressures that seek to diminish their worth or humanity.
  • There is an acknowledgment of historical violence against Black individuals who dared to challenge the status quo, such as Fred Hampton and Martin Luther King Jr.
  • The piece conveys a powerful message of resilience, with the author vowing to continue fighting for justice and to inspire others to do the same, even in the face of personal risk.

I Am Human

You cannot steal my worth.

RIP Jacob Blake and the countless other victims of police violence.

Photo by Sam Burriss on Unsplash

This life ain’t satisfactory. It saddens me. Casually, assaulting all of my faculties. “Facts” can be, just such a catastrophe. Apathy, when you realize you are a casualty, of real lies and believing in rabbits feet. In blue skies, eating American pie rabidly.

But what you see isn’t always what it is. Rapidly, smacking these gums, teaching these kids. Ones with dark skin are more deserving of a bid. Lives uncivilized, need rehabilitation. You need white peace to balance the blackness of them. When I’m speaking my piece, they cut me down to my skin.

Language barrier stems from the declaring of him, as sub-human. Coping mechanism so they can see themselves win. We go through it, hoping this schism can be shelved in the end. Guess when moving up ain’t clear easy to love looking down on them. Now we’re shooting up peers to let the 1% win.

A cancer with cold tumors, cells prop up the system we’re in. Destroying us from the inside because of our skin. Ironic… That’s why I can’t part with my pen, I need y’all to know I exist.

While you humor these rumors that we’ve been heard in the end. They herd my hood into pens so it’s easy to silence our women and men.

Choose your fighter then, more appeal for the lighter skin. In Street Fighter, can you tell me why Akuma is so much darker than Ken? The darker the skin, then the less of a friend. The lesson imprints my skin tone holds a villain within.

It’s a cold game. They want me living in bold shame. I refuse to do it. You won’t make me feel like a no name. I’m a black man with dreams. I have plans. They film bloody scenes and act as if they don’t understand. No need to prove my humanity to those that I know don’t give a damn.

Feelings been backed up. For a long time, instilling fear is how they’ve been giving dams. No need to worry about sharing if you just hold back a man.

First they would send the Klan. Our introduction to Reconstruction was to be flooded with violence. Fear holding us back, made a lot of us silent. The ones to overcome got killed during the night shift. Fred Hampton, Martin Luther, Try to make change and they shoot ya.

But I swear I cannot take it no more. I promise to break through to the fore. And let the water of truth touch the roots of the poor. While I do what I can, I pray for the strength to do more. Until it’s me that those bells ringing for.

But when they get me, the bell won’t just ring, it’ll roar. The people I touched will sing until they are sore.

If I go under, it’ll be because I’m building a floor. That foundation will be an inspiration for our generation and more.

Race
Racism
Poetry
Writing
Life
Recommended from ReadMedium
avatarWalter Rhein
It’s Been Two Years Since the Day My Life Changed Forever

Reflections on a tragedy that nearly robbed me of the will to carry on

6 min read
avatarDebra G. Harman, MEd.
My Classroom Window Was My Emergency Exit

I prepared for the worst to protect my students

9 min read
avatarPathless Pilgrim
We’re Witnessing the Fall of the Biggest Empire in History

And it’s going to be spectacular

4 min read
avatarMedium Staff
It happened on Medium: July 2024 roundup

A big announcement, most-shared stories, and commentary on current events

6 min read
avatarKristina Kasparian, PhD
The Grief and Relief of Having a Hysterectomy in My 30s  After Our Surrogate’s Stillbirth

Batter Will Be Thick

15 min read
avatarBritanny Levy
“Why Doesn’t She Leave?” The Dark Truth of Domestic Abuse.

Leaving an abusive relationship can cost someone’s life

6 min read