By Ernie McCray
“When I see a person
I don’t see color”
I heard a man say.
And I thought
what I usually think
as I listened to him that day:
I wondered, then,
how could he not see
the color of my skin,
my dark brown pigmentation
like a chocolate milk shake
or a cocoa colored
birthday cake
or a blend
of some kind of fine coffee
that a master barista might make…
How could he not see that
I’m more
Gingerbread Man
than snowman;
more a Nigerian
than a Swedish man,
more Black Panther
than Spiderman.
more likely from Ghana
than Japan,
more a jazzman
than a member
of a bagspipe band;
more tribesman
than tarzan,
more soul brotha
than Peter Pan,
more West African
than Afghanistan,
more “already got me one”
than “I need to take a trip
to the Yucatan
to get me a suntan.”
More, in some people’s minds,
bogeyman than human…
That, perhaps, more than any reason
is why I would say to the
no-color-seeing man,
based on my people’s history,
over centuries,
in this country:
Got to see my color, man!
Got to see my color, man!
Or, you won’t see me.
You won’t see me.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Any one who says they are racially “color blind” are liars
Ah! Enlightenment at its best!!
Charles…..I love this so much. You make it so clear and yet so loving.
Thanks again.