“I Will Never Be
Desensitized”
By Guest Blogger,
Wanda Olugbala
Stunned, I
watched the murder of Alton Sterling in a parking lot in Baton Rouge. I had no
words. Just tears and heart-sickness and anger.
Ms. Wanda Olugbala |
But my Detroit
sister-friend Wanda Olugbala, mother of an eight-year-old son, had all of that
AND the words. She captured the essence of the experience of women of color in
her poem, “I Will Never Be Desensitized.”
³
³
³
I
Will
Never be
Desensitized.
Will
Never be
Desensitized.
Do not show me videos of
My brother’s execution as though
His death is some staged movie scene where
Cut was called and he got up, brushed off and
Headed home to reheat Monday’s Barbque
My brother’s execution as though
His death is some staged movie scene where
Cut was called and he got up, brushed off and
Headed home to reheat Monday’s Barbque
His life is sacred to me
I have washed him in his infancy
Fought for him throughout his childhood
Prayed over him in my prayer closet
Fussed at him in open combat
I shielded his body from switches, and
Belts and open hand insults never once
Did I blink when it meant saving him over
Sacrificing me, he is me, I am him
I have washed him in his infancy
Fought for him throughout his childhood
Prayed over him in my prayer closet
Fussed at him in open combat
I shielded his body from switches, and
Belts and open hand insults never once
Did I blink when it meant saving him over
Sacrificing me, he is me, I am him
His body is sacred to me
It is my responsibility to prepare him
On his final journey home, my tears
I gather to wash his wounds, my clothes
I rip to swaddle his now lifeless body
Leave me in my grief as I care for this body
I loved and nurtured and protected
Do not steal his dignity with his life
His is not martyr, his body another prop for
Your political defense, this is my brother
You
May
Use
Him
No
More
It is my responsibility to prepare him
On his final journey home, my tears
I gather to wash his wounds, my clothes
I rip to swaddle his now lifeless body
Leave me in my grief as I care for this body
I loved and nurtured and protected
Do not steal his dignity with his life
His is not martyr, his body another prop for
Your political defense, this is my brother
You
May
Use
Him
No
More
© 2016 Wanda Olugbala on
FearFree Living at https://fearfreeliving.wordpress.com
And then, there
was Philando
Castile. And
then, there was Dallas. We must not let ourselves become desensitized to
violence and hate. We must think and feel and act to transform the injustice,
violence, and racism that plague our country. We must recognize the humanness
of each person, open our hearts, and spread love. Our survival as a people and
nation depend on it.
~
xoA ~
Powerful. I am troubled by what I hear and see happening in our country. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteIt is officially, the most scary and troubling time I've known. May we finally find our way to peace, harmony, and justice.
DeleteThank YOU for reading and commenting, Kate. xoA
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteI just want to say how sorry I am, I don't have the words to express my anger and sorrow for young lives lost senselessly
ReplyDeleteIt is a shame. Thank you for reading and commenting. xoA
DeleteIt is a shame. Thank you for reading and commenting. xoA
DeleteThis poem only hints at the outrage exploding from the black community in recent years. As a white woman, I feel nothing but shame, as racism runs rampant through our systems. I must do more!
ReplyDelete