Who Is Really Free? Gonzaga Poets Respond to the Call for Racial Justice
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Contents Introduction
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Dedication
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The Question -- Kadari Machen ‘22
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Melanin: The Most Dangerous Weapon -- Richard Scott ‘23
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Free -- Jalen McMurray ‘21
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Sleeping in Snow -- Shannon Berry
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Black -- Justin Williams ‘21
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Prayer for Change -- Richard Scott ‘23
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To Life -- Harry Rissetto
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American Ignorance -- Jack Ryan ‘22
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I Am Not a Virus -- Kadari Machen ‘22
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BLACK WHY? -- Lashieta Rogers
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Justice for All? -- Quinn Fish ‘21
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Woods on Fire -- Adam Uppuluri ‘21
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As It Always Does -- Joseph Ross
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True Colors -- Kevin Donalson ‘21
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Introduction
In 2020, America was struck with two viruses: COVID-19, or the coronavirus, and pure, unadulterated racism and hate. Each devastated our nation. After the murders of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd, cities erupted in protest and anger, not only putting on display the horror that is encountering a police officer as a black person for America itself, but the entire world saw it too. And just as the increasing death tolls due to the coronavirus steadily rose, forcing the world to halt and watch, so did the actions of those who work to promote peace, equality, and justice. After the summer protests, including the protests held in Washington, DC, Gonzaga Poets & Writers, a student club, came together and wrote about what we saw and felt that summer. From the perspective of a young white man to the perspective of a young black man, each poem was painted with genuine angst, anger, and sadness in their own beautifully, unique way. In October, the poets, along with a large number of fellow classmates, teachers, and administrators came together for our SLAM RACISM Poetry Event, which allowed some of our poems to be heard in our own voices. Many of our poets though, wanted to do more, but we were stuck in a global pandemic that kept many people sitting in their homes. After long discussion though, we knew the fight for equality and racial justice was far from over, but we had one of the most powerful weapons to fight hate: poetry. Who is Really Free? Gonzaga Poets Respond to the Call for Racial Justice came as a result of this realization and the urge we felt to do justice. We hope these poems, from several of our students and teachers, will honor George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and the countless other people of color who have died due to racism. We also hope these poems will be more than just a book. We hope they will move us to do the right thing: to act in support of racial justice in our country. Thanks to Judah Whiddon ‘21 and his artistic abilities for our beautiful cover. Thanks also to Dr. Harry Rissetto for helping us get this book into print. Kevin Donalson ‘21 Adam Uppuluri ‘21
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We dedicate this collection of poems to the families of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and all the men and women of color who have died due to the racial plague in our country. May their lives remain in our hearts. May we remember their deaths too, as we work to build a more just country.
4 The Question By: Kadari Machen ‘22 I wrote this poem after studying Gonzaga’s history with slavery in Mr. Donellan’s history class. The question in this poem was posted by Aiden Rafferty to Georgetown’s Professor Rothman in 2016. His question inspired two years of research and deepened our understanding of the untold history of Gonzaga. Are you aware of any connections between Gonzaga and Slavery? I’m sure some knew the answer right away, But feared the consequences if they say, Knowing the school would be in dismay, Hoping that if they stay silent, the hunters would be led astray Are you aware of any connections between Gonzaga and Slavery? A question, Concealed behind a wall of fear and ignorance. Nobody dared to crack it. Do we want to know? Are you aware of any connections between Gonzaga and Slavery? An answer, Buried under grief and agony. An answer, That would break the utopia of Gonzaga. Jesuits: holy, benevolent, Christian Jesuits: harsh, cruel, slave owners The top 5% nationally. Not participants, but leaders Of a system meant to oppress, degrade, and break a race. A race forced to pay the toll of American geographic and economic expansion Used as a means, But why am I not surprised, We were never treated equally, our whole lives
5 How do we heal these wounds? Do we act like it never happened? Well, we’ve been doing that for 200 years. Then how can we fix it? We can’t. There is no way to rectify the pain and suffering that my ancestors had to endure. But there is a way to rebuild the broken spirit of Eye Street, We must confront with passion our past, present, and future And make sure that things do not remain the way they are. Imagine if we had a black headmaster Or an all-black board of trustees What if we had a strong black woman as president All ideas that seem so easy… but are inconceivable. This is not just Gonzaga, This is America.
6 Melanin: The Most Dangerous Weapon by Richard Scott ‘23 A system built to destroy A movement marked marxist My pigment weaponry A country willing to divide for equality Colin’s knee was peaceful Yet you felt attacked You preach Dr. King’s peace But this is the language of the unheard Tired became exhausted We became threats Riots became the focus This reality became inevitable My back a bullseye My skin an armory My melanin a threat This is why we kneel
7 Free By: Jalen McMurray ‘21 “Land of the free, home of the brave” Land of the free? Free? Being free: “Enjoying personal rights or liberty” Rights? Right to walk with a hood on? Right to walk with a bag of skittles in my hand? Right to take a knee? Right to live? Land of the… Home of the brave
8 Sleeping in Snow By: Shannon Berry Department of Religion For Breonna Taylor I think of you in your bed breathing in and out: the ocean within you in quiet rhythm You lie cozy in blankets and sheets, head nestled like a dove, no, a raven, a stunning onyx, facets shining on the pillow. In the evening. simple articles: calm, pedestrian, unremarkable: pajamas face wash toothpaste I collapse into my bed exhausted after a long day of masks and marches in your name The only thing I could do for you. Simple articles: a marker cardboard a shout a clenched fist opening slowly to the sharp frost that slices the membrane,
9 the chill, the hypothermia. I reach for a novel, maybe the same one you read before bed before shots iced through your apartment, stopping the waves of the ocean within you: ice caps on Lake Superior in the dead of winter, caught still, shimmering. Silent. Stuck in place, covered in snow, with nowhere to go.
10 Black By: Justin Williams ‘21 A beautiful color that comes in hundreds of different shades Each one a unique sable Black A color that has been gifted to us A color that is magnificent Black A color that is envied by those who don’t understand it Yet leaves us all in a state of awe Black
11 Prayer for Change By: Richard Scott ‘23 I pray for healing in Ferguson I pray for healing in Minneapolis I pray for healing in New York I pray for healing in Baltimore I pray that we will continue to run for Ahmaud I pray that we will blast our music for Jordan I pray that we will continue to kneel with Kap I pray that the police stop killing us I pray that 911 is a beacon of safety, not death I pray the next time my hands are raised it’s in a classroom I pray that the voices of the unheard are amplified I pray that the color of my skin won’t get me killed I pray that Martin’s dream doesn’t become a nightmare I pray that Rosa’s bravery isn’t blinded by cowards I pray that Maya’s words are never erased I pray for change
12 To Life By: Dr. Harry Rissetto Department of Religion Would a crowd have followed him when he arrived in Linden and walked toward the large casket carried from Brooklyn Did Gwen Carr’s tears stop when He put his hand on the polished white Rosedale wood and spoke directly to a widow’s son. Would he have responded quickly to Tamika Palmer’s call that night and crossed a crowded Springfield Drive the arms of police brushing against his robe Did the officers ridicule him as He placed his fingers into the holy walls of the St. Anthony Gardens apartment before entering to find her sleeping. Would LaTonya and Bridgett have been angry that he waited four days before beginning his walk to Minneapolis to arrive at 38th and Chicago Did He raise eyes in Pearland standing eight minutes forty-six seconds silent under a Texas sun before lifting his voice “Eric, Breonna, and George, come out!”
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American Ignorance By: Jack Ryan ‘22 What purpose do your eyes serve, if you refuse to see their slaughter? What purpose do your ears serve, if you refuse to hear their cries? What purpose does your mind serve, if you refuse to accept their injustice? What purpose do you serve?
14 I Am Not a Virus By: Kadari Machen ‘22 I’m not a virus, There is no need to be scared of me, Even though my color is different we are much the same, We have the same aspirations, the same goals, And even the same brain, The difference is... that I’m in pain. My brother got shot 7 times for breaking up a fight, Every time I walk past a cop car, my body gets tight It’s not right. I’m not a virus, I just want justice, I want to walk down the street with my hoodie on and not be seen as destructive, If you gave me your wallet, Would I be trusted? The system is corrupted. How do we fix it though? Is the answer to defund the police? I really don’t know. I wish we could all just take an equality pill I don’t have the answers, I just can’t keep seeing my brothers getting killed.
15 BLACK WHY? By: Lashieta Rogers Gonzaga Business Office BLACK WHY? Why is being black instantly a threat? Why is the black life okay to gamble or placed on a bet? Why is injustice fair? Why are we expected to continue to bear? Why is inequality okay? Why is the damage done to us tucked away? Why are we constantly expected to sit and obey? Why must our lives be the high value paid? Why must we be silent at every turn? Why does what we have to say go unheard? BLACK WHY? At every turn it seems you want to be me. What’s been given to me naturally, you pay to receive. But when the struggle is upon us, you run and you flee. I guess being black isn’t what you thought it was cracked up to be. But guess again, strong, encouraged and proud we are. Silent we will no longer be, oh not by far. Being black is not some burden we bear. It’s a strong coat of armor, not easy for all to wear. Ready to fight the fight, the battles and wars. BLACK WHY? It’s simple, we were built to endure.
16 Justice for All? By: Quinn Fish ‘21 Where was the justice for Trayvon Martin? As his innocent body lay lifeless on the pavement, surrounded by skittles and oozing blood. Where was his justice? Where was the justice for Breonna Taylor? A beautiful beacon of hope, 8 darting bullets steal her healing future, yet our judges assist the white cop, without a second thought. Where was her justice? Where is justice for George Floyd? He pleads “I can’t breathe”, as his last breath escapes his exasperated lungs. Our “protectors” continue their day, with the blood of another black American on their badges, with no shame. Where is his justice? A system founded on racist ideals, in a country led by men who sing the praises of white supremacy, cannot serve equality. The sweet juices of justice will not quench our thirst without the overthrowing of the white men oppressing our country.
17 Woods on Fire By: Adam Uppuluri ‘21 The match lit long before the knee touched the ground.
Gasoline laced with tears splashed on the dead trees, poured by those who have seen the life drain from their family members.
The flame marched towards the woods simply asking for its recognition.
But those who saw the vulnerable flame through their white hoodies, sat and watched the rest of the football game, criticized the knee.
No surprise now they see the woods on fire.
18 As It Always Does By: Joseph Ross Department of English for Tamir Rice, a twelve year-old boy killed by Cleveland Police Department officer, Timothy Loehmann, on November 22, 2014
1. Recreation Something about a rec center should be safe. It should be a place where a twelve year-old boy can play un-murdered. But that is not the way at Cleveland, Ohio’s Cudell Recreation Center. Because Cleveland hires its police officers without exploring their job history, without looking for phrases like “emotionally unstable” or “unfit” for this job. Those words could have been read if someone had looked. The dispatcher was told twice by a caller that this boy was playing with a “probably fake” gun.
19 The caller said this twice. The caller even said he is “probably a juvenile” but the dispatcher didn’t think that was necessary to tell the officers going to the scene. The officer, who must be able to see into the future, said “I knew it was a gun.” Such wisdom in the Cleveland Police Department’s hires. So a rec center becomes a slaughter, a past-tense boy, a mother torn into twelve pieces of her son’s small life. Yet recreation is about as far from murder as one can get. Unless one is, you know, a cop, in Cleveland.
2. Age When you are twelve and America thinks you are twenty, you have no chance
20 of thirteen, much less playing, goofing, being twelve. The police officer radioed to others, after shooting you, that you were a “Black male maybe twenty.”
3. Squad Car The police car jumped the curb and barreled across the lawn toward the picnic table where you played. You stood up and walked toward America and in two seconds you were shot. The officer later said he warned you three times but no one talks that fast, not even America. America greeted you without speaking, as it always does.
21 True Colors By: Kevin Donalson ‘21 I. Red America’s rage and Hatred dispenses a fiery red aura, while the warm blood of mine embraces the hard, cold pavement. A gory Pollock painting, it splatters everywhere, the rusty red exploding, all because of the greeting of a bullet, and the wrath of an officer, but did I resemble some monster, or a threat?
II. White The color of bags, that give faceless cowards a name. The tone of one's skin, who at first breath, is given a different type of Privilege. Yet are we so different?
III. Blue Sorrow and sadness fill each citizen’s face, while the news spews
22 unrealistic and hateful ideas hallucinating viewers. Always over the little things: a knee, or having a voice, or the simplicity, yet blissful nature that is freedom. But in America, who is really free?
