White Girl

White girl,

That’s you, girl—

Even if you were only born half, girl.

Half white, half black—

Half white coming from half white, half black.

Half black coming from half black, half white.

And that quarter white also coming from half white, half black.

But that’s you girl—

White girl!

Despite being born half, girl.

But what’s one half to a whole?

Or better yet,

The half that actually shows.

Because look at your skin, girl,

That’s white, girl.

You’re not black, girl

You’re white, girl.

Now repeat it until it’s ingrained in your head, girl.

Now repeat it until it’s ingrained in your head, girl.

Now repeat it until it’s ingrained in your head, girl.

You’re white, girl.

You’re white, girl.

You’re white, girl.

But the thing about being white girl when you’re actually half girl is

You forget the other half to your whole, girl.

White girl covers up black girl like it’s hiding a secret.

Like no one’s meant to see it.

Like,

“Even if you’re mixed race, you’re still not black enough, girl.”

Like,

“Even if you’re mixed race, you’re still not white enough, girl.”

Like,

“Even if you’re mixed race, it’s still not enough, girl.”

Because no one wants to hear about racism,

From someone who has never felt the sting of a slur, girl

Or the pain of discrimination, girl,

Or had to grow up watching shows about

‘Real Life’ that didn’t include

Anyone that looked like you, girl.

But the first time someone called me black girl,

I thought they were talking to another girl.

Because that’s how I grew up—

Always being white girl.

And that’s fine, girl,

Because who would ever look at you and think ‘black girl’ anyway.

So it’s fine, girl,

It’s whatever, girl.

You’ll never feel like white girl

And you’ll never look like black girl.

But that’s because you’ve only ever been

Half, girl.