Lailani Amaro
Stories (3)
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Portland
Finding inner peace and enjoying the beauty of just being alive. Enjoying the surroundings and finding my inner child’s imagination. Spending the night in a treehouse fairy garden has certainly tickled my imagination. Laughing loudly with my fiancé and smiling all day long looking at street art. This is going to be the year of appreciation and peace. The sounding song of inner joy and life everlasting through the eyes of light. Taking moments to reconnect with myself through little pockets of peace. Being truly kind to myself. A friend to myself. Because I am worthy of my own friendship. My own kindness. I am worthy of life.
By Lailani Amaro 5 years ago in Poets
A seat at our table
I found myself scrolling aimlessly through Facebook trying to find some serotonin. A few memes in I found my feed inundated with articles about the plight of African Americans within America and how reform throughout multiple institutions could ease some of the stress experienced by blacks. I sigh as it is only the second day of Black History Month. I know the intentions behind these articles. To start a dialogue between African Americans and their Caucasian counterparts. This particular article was written by a local reporter interviewing a local pastor. The pastor speaks about his plight as a black man and how it shouldn't be a burden to be black. The author of the article was genuinely trying to capture the emotions and weight of what the pastor was trying to relay. After reading the article, I made an emotionally taxing mistake. I looked at the comment section. Like many black social media users before me I fell into the trap of wanting to see what my community had to say about the article. Were they receptive? Did the article accomplish it's goal of starting a dialogue? Sadly but most importantly, very predictably no it did not. I am genuinely getting to the point where I despise articles like this. They're hastily written and barely go into depth on the topic at hand. Most importantly, they’re posted on social media with little to no real chance of actually starting a conversation but instead fostering a community sense of shared hatred. Instead they open the flood gates. The floodgates for trolls to attack POCs discussing the rhetoric of the interviewer with the interviewee. The floodgates for the “i don't see race” people to silence and erase the pain being discussed in the articles. The “you have the same opportunities” crew and the “here we go again. Squekiest wheel gets the most oil” team forcing their way into the conversations of those who just want to talk. Suddenly we are chastised for wanting to speak about our issues and not being inclusive to those who are exclusive to us. How dare we even think to discuss our community without the explicit consent of our counterparts. How dare we even fathom bringing up the institutions that oppress us. Our counterparts use them and it is very inconsiderate of us to want them dismantled. They demand a seat at our table and when a chair is pulled up, they take over the table. “Why can't I talk about me?” “I get followed in stores too” “I worked hard for what I have because of that I should be allowed to call you an animal”. It's emotionally taxing. Especially during Black History Month, when we know more and more articles like this are going to be crapped out. More and more “you’re not a slave anymore! Get over it” “you’re all just welfare queens and jail house kings”. More and more “but black on black crime” and “only 13% of the population but does 55% of the crime” people get to once again have another place to voice their hatred for black stories and life. Their words are once again in our faces denying us even a measly article to talk about our discomfort. And again Black people find ourselves having to defend ourselves from the attacks of the people who strong armed a seat at our table. We were talking and now we have to stop to defend ourselves from the deadly fragility of our caucasian counterparts. We were decompressing and now we have to reshrink ourselves to make room for their egos in our space. Black people could simply swear off the comment sections and synthesize the articles internally without discussing on social media. We could absolutely do that but that would also mean denying us the same community that is protected for others. A real cultural dilemma. And the sad part is, it's only day 2 of Black History Month.
By Lailani Amaro 5 years ago in Humans
Intrusive
Intrusive. These thoughts are intrusive. Disruptive and destructive, they invade without remorse. They are intrusive. Boundless and suffocatingly limitless. Yes, these thoughts are intrusive. Like a demon trespassing on holy land, his foot prints singeing the ground beneath him. He is not welcomed but he is there. These thoughts are intrusive. Dark and demanding, like a demon they want your soul. Fighting your will, your every will. Or will you...? These thoughts are intrusive. With a rosary of hope and strength as your sword, you sprout wings of wisdom and call upon the healing angels. Yes, these thoughts are intrusive but they cannot stay. A war will be raged
By Lailani Amaro 5 years ago in Poets
