The Color of Me

By Nathaniel E. Hocker on July 14, 2020

This is who I am . . .

My hair is effervescent with tea tree oil and coconut extract. It’s naturally curly. The wind can’t mold it. The rain doesn’t change it. It’s mine and mine alone. It shall not be touched.

My eyes are the color of darkness with a hint of brown. They see the future when no one else can see it. They tell a story of struggle. Mine eyes have seen the coming of change. The vision I have, no one can take it.

My lips are shapely, plump and moist with care. They often purse and get bitten when one of us is unjustly pursued. My lips tell stories of gladness, stories of joy, and haunt with stories of my raising. I won’t be silent.

My shoulders are strong and bear the weight of survival. I carry the baggage of being; my soul is equipped with many handles. My spirit is light, heavily guarded by bone and heartbeat, ancestry and heritage. Though I am persecuted, I won’t be crushed.

My skin is firm and naturally caramel. I wear the stripes of oppression, and bear the toll of forced exclusion. Privilege is not an ingredient of this pigment, yet has its moments where accepted. This is the color of me.

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