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