Mirror, Mask
My musings as a respectably, polite Black girl and the exhausting performance that is life couple with the narrow expectation and definition of Black excellence
After the parade, the crowd goes away
I must weigh which mask can go and which must stay
Did peppy, wise side-kick overdo it?
Even worse, did I add too much sass into it?
I design my performances to exhilarate and charm
Docile enough for the audience to feel calm
Coupled with sassy rebuffs to raise slight alarms
Combined to create a guilty savior healing balm
I delete the Ebonics, so what I say is heard
I double think to carefully curate the words
Even now, I type my black words on white pages.
Knowing the only meaning that will matter is the ones they choose between spaces
Once again, the reviews for my performance are in
Light enough, bright enough, respectability side enough
By all accounts, an indomitable win
Called to be the next Candance Owens, Abby Phillips made of the same Yassss queen-hunnyyyy- it's the-black girl magical fairy-for-me stuff
They say they mined their diamond in the rough
Shining brillant in excellence, this time abundandt with the Obama, Martin Luther King no wrong yeses or no's fluff.
But once I remove the mask, all my self-concept is ruined.
Scripts and thoughts merge into one, so I struggle to see what the truth is
I am a commodity, and that is the only honesty I know
Today am I Candance; oh wait no that's tomorrow
Maybe Oprah? They respond well to bootstrap pull-ups mixed with a bit of sorrow
Some people ponder
why I choose this life over another.
When it came to survival, she was my first responder.
I met her at six when they asked if I was this Black girl or the other.
Even though sometimes I wish I could throw all the masks away,
Instead, I paint a new one for another day.
About the Creator
Whitaker Lee
Call me Whit if you’re sassy . 💁🏾♀️
Zesty gal with a fantastical flair.
IG @thewhittywriter
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Comments (1)
This poem is so deep; I love your honesty here. I wish we could re-create history and society so that so many people didn't have to feel this way. I know I can never completely understand, but this poem made me tear up just thinking about our country's past and the fact that much of this still hasn't gone away. The fact that so many people still have to wear masks as you talk about them here. Thank you for your beautiful words. I am a kindergarten teacher and am constantly thinking about ways I can do my part to build children up and influence my community. ❤️