Word work

when black boys smile

it’s like bucking the system

like a cheat code

an unlocked treasure

secret to the magic trick

the aha moment

a declaration

that we deserve sunshine too

peace

when understanding

and acceptance collide

exploding into stillness

i am from

i am from hand me down cast iron skillets, gold medal flour and hot oil

i’m from the hardwood floors and cold basement of the house on carpenter street

i’m from a deep green and red living room jungle of poinsettias and snake plants

i’m from sunday dinners and sassy mouths, from annett, ms. liz, and ms. catherine

i’m from the problem solvers and go-getters, from conflicting messages like chase your dream but have something to fall back on

i’m from stomping, moaning deacons, and baptist preachers

from ame, church of christ, soul searching, and the universe

i’m from the dirt roads of dilwyn, virginia by way of ron eldridge, by way of margie anderson 

i’m from norf and soufeast d.c., and pg county suburbs

i’m from fried chicken, fish and grits, sweet potatoes, mac and cheese, and collards greens,

from mom and dad’s fallout at the morningside house before dad moved out

i’m from aunt brenda’s butt whoopings when me and cuz ignored her warning to stop bickering,

i’m from old photos resurrected from boxes in mom’s garage

i’m from those heavy old hand me down skillets seasoned with generations of life lessons and love.