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January– March 2016 Curated by Mr. Chris Odam Language Arts Instructor Paseo Academy of Fine and Performing Arts
This collection features voices from Paseo Academy, located in Kansas City, Missouri. For this issue, it has been an honor to serve as curator, collecting voices and perspectives on the topic of Black History. Indeed, this history continues as these young voices demonstrate. Join in by digesting the truths they have decided to share with us in this issue. - Mr. Chris Odam, Teacher
White Carissa Stevens
I am white. That’s not just my race, it’s my permission to be alive, My right live, breath and thrive. I didn’t ask for this advantage, and frankly I don’t deserve it. I’m no better than anyone else, I have no more integrity or whit.
The belief that I am inherently better I’d like to say is outdated But that’s a hard things to promise when it’s hardly even faded. Racism is alive and well, And it’s turned so many people’s lives into hell.
Every pound that’s piled on my back Accounts for ten on someone who’s black. They have to jump through hurdles I’ve never even seen, While cruel judges watch them, their only goal to demean.
I grew up learning that I could achieve my goals, While my friends learned to avoid bullet holes. And not from the “thugs” in the street, But from police officers, whose crimes justice will never meet.
I am white, And when people say I don’t have privilege,
They must have missed my heartbeat.
This Generation Roses are red Violets are blue Who's next? Maybe it's you What is the world coming to? Black on black crime is bad for the community White cops are getting set free Police putting up tape saying "crime scene" No one is getting justice Family can't be trusted While time is still going the protestors still march It's still the judge’s decision So pay attention and maybe you'll vision What REALITY is So while you’re looking for love noticing The depression Have you learned your lesson ? Less graduates, more money is the mindset But not the key to success At the end of a movie, while reading this poem saying To Be Continued... Because This Generation is one big issue
M’kayla Garner
The Other Side of Different Perspectives Shaun Jackson I, yes, I am on this side. On this side I am whoever I want to be. They, no, we wear these golden collars with pride. And on this side we are who you want to see. Arrogance is tattooed in my life and soul. I earned the right to say so, so I shall. All this, fame, glitter, and the bitter gold. It all gets old and it’s tiring when those people bow. They all, listen to what we have to say Because some are voiceless. Seeing the past and future for kids everyday, Wishing they cared more…. when they cared less. Glocked down on the news it’s a pity That every tear shed is towards someone innocent. And in every type of state and city, They look for us to inspire them, and maybe then… Maybe they, listen to our verses religiously To find serenity in their lives without fathers. Our side has the pressure that the world upheld continuously And no one ever asked us how we truly felt, it’s a bother. Since, we, yes we, are the black and famous It feels like we don’t have our own voices Since all we are questioned now is about the dead And in sincerity we care but we’re making choices to be leaders So our side can be anything but selfish. We write about the truth and get paid Compared to those who’ve experienced more. You, who are on that side, I don’t know why you chose to stay Having a God like handful of memory galore.
“Sweet Little Black Baby” By: DeAvian Berkley
“MY BABY JUST GOT SHOT” Hearing only screams Can’t see the scene Am I day dreaming? Is this really happening to me? Only one thing on my mind. This can’t be happening to me. I open my eyes, Trying to gasp for air. Wounds untreated, Gushing out by the river. Is it because I'm black? Does my skin color scare you. Is it because my skin color is the same as your gun. Or do you think I'm a “hoodlum” from the block While you stare at my Negro body. Looking at me like a piece of meat that you want a piece of . Seeing me scared trying to take advantage of me knowing that you hate me from the outside but not from the inside. Thinking about every single thing you want to do to me. While my hour glass figure confuse you but amuses you. So as you use me…. And touch every inch of my body. Treating me.
Hurting me. All I can do is cry. Is my pain amusing you? Saying six words constantly “This is all you’re good for” Like I’m a useless toy that sooner or later he’ll destroy. Trying to prey that I’ll see another sunny day but deep down I know. This man is going to kill me. So every memory leads to this one. While my mother calls me her Sweet Little Black Baby.
“Justice?” By Michael Moralez
Raise your hands, Raise them as far as you can go. When a black man gets killed, It’s always up to the media to put a spin on it. When you see police officers, you’re in disgrace of what they are. Looking back at you they see a troubled young black man. So, they shoot first and ask questions later. Raise your hands, raise them high as you can, so that the whole world can see.
Castrele Hoy The System System of rejection Mindless reflection, of blacks and how we are treated. How we are abused and to be used, The again we win, our powerful minds and bodies and souls within. We become strong after fighting and feening for so long. The system is what creates us not makes us BLACKS.
Breanna Barber
Discovered
We discover in life that we choose to be what we only want to be. Going past the beyond of what we want them to see.
Acknowledging scribbled dialogue the old black man once could not read. To go way past and beyond discovering the meaning to things he couldn’t believe.
Only so far ahead to get past the smoking robes. Some might say it’s not quite done yet, education of the young child now overflowed with definite understanding. Blaming it on our way of life, so colored then played that price, having to struggle for decent nights.
We carefully hold on to that bit of discovery, uncovering the truth. Get ahead with dark paths when far ahead is the light.
Black Skin LaNae Stevenson Is it bad that I’m in black skin? Martin Luther King marched for us so that we could feel comfortable in our black skin. Not getting fed the education we need because of our black skin. But, I will win. I will succeed. I will always be proud of my black skin.
Black Black always has the bad rep. Blackmail, black humor, black day, black list. But I am a black girl, so am I…bad? I mean I do everything right Go to sleep at night, do my homework, get good grades don’t steal, don’t lie. Wait! That was a white lie, but its ok it was just a little white lie.
Kierra Fayne
Black History I’m not sure if it’s the history behind it. Or maybe it was the way the people around me spoke of it. Martin Luther King fought for people not to be afraid but I can’t help but feel like I still have fear. I’ve always had the feeling of being less. Harriet Tubman didn’t lead the slaves to freedom for me to be pulled back to the crops. But I didn’t think I lived back in those days. George Washington didn’t invent common household items for me to not do anything. All of this wasn’t new to me. The standing up and being bold for the people who have paved the way . It’s a disgrace, to disappointment them. They didn’t fight for me to feel this way, yet I feel the same.
Andrea Chatman
La’Kenya Bausby Moving Forward
Strong were the ones who suffered Evil were the oppressors I hope we learn to love one another Hope we’ll come together
R’Monie Garry Hr. 6
Reconstruction
We lived through the Lincoln Plan and through the Johnson’s. The radical Republican tried to care about us. Hayes made it what it was now we had to deal His deal the devil, going for the kill, for him to be President he would leave the power within the south.
It could end 100 years of segregation 100 years of hurt We still aren’t free as a nation Water damage to my soul KKK growing old Living in the South A life was postponed Literacy test in order for me to vote Man I pray for freedom and hope
Who Am I? Carissa Chatman. I’m from The Bible a reincarnation different color and gender. They call me Black Moses, strong and powerful. Three hundred slaves I’ve set free still we bound by these chains. When will my people be free? I will risk my life so my people may know freedom. I could be caught by dogs, whipped even lynched, (last line?)
Baby girl do not be ashamed, your body is like a temple, and its shape resembles the flow of the Nile River-- Baby boy, do not be ashamed you are built like a sphinx and have kingdoms in your bloodline. Do not be ashamed of your melanin because the abundance of your pigment is a blessing from Ra, he who calls upon the sun to turn your skin to a gorgeous chocolate setting. Do not make it light vs. dark when you preach black vs. white in such a case light-skinned and dark-skinned and all in between and beside must band together. Do not collide, coop. Do not let them brainwash you and belittle your worth you are Nefertiti and Ahkenaten reborn, you are the descendants of rulers.
funny how they fetishize our features but treat the way we act like the plague. The world loves a BBW no one loves a "black girl attitude". They say they "love chocolate" but get uncomfortable around the name DeShawn. Only listen to rap when it's Eminem but will nae-nae and whip like they are the slave owners they have "nothing to do with". Do not allow your culture, the strong wall that it is, to be doused in the white paint of the oppressor. Fight the whitewashing. Stand tall with your roots and melanin.
A.J. Knelange