In this white suburban town... (Creative Writing Piece)
By: Ela Mody
In this white suburban town
My brown skin stands out
Sometimes I think of it like beautiful flowers
Growing in a field of grass
And other times I think of it like weeds
Bothersome and shrivelled in a garden full of vegetables
I know I don't belong
But regardless, I am here
This morning my lipstick told me to be confident
My brown foundation told me to be proud
And my shiny silver hoops said to hold my head up high
Taking their advice
I walk down the street bouncing,
Embracing my existence,
passing water fountains and benches and streetlights
And then I hear a voice
The fountain spits water on me and says “you don’t belong here”
All of a sudden I remember where I am
I remember who I am and what I am seen as
I turn around
And the bench who my gaze lands on
Turns to face the wall so I can’t sit down
I feel like the weeds
A plant growing where I am not wanted
My arms begin to turn limp
With little power and little life
The streetlight turns on and off in anger
Beckoning to the world that there is an outsider
Me
I am the weed that has been sprayed with pesticide
I am the weed that always wished to be the vegetable
Watered
Cultivated
Appreciated
The attitudes of the fountain, bench and streetlight
Are a product of history that has never been resolved
Everything those before me have been through,
They have lived and passed
and are now a part of the Earth
I am not alone
I want to bloom like the flowers
Maybe I am in this field of grass alone
But I am not alone
I am not alone
My arm!!!
I begin to feel life in my arm again
Flowers of joy and hope bloom in my smile and in my eyes
I feel the Earth vibrate with the power of my ancestors
It is rushing through me
They help me bloom