My Father’s Father’s Father Who Was Beaten

Sarah Rodriguez

My Father’s Father’s Father Who was Beaten For the stain of his nation upon his skin. No birth recorded, no one cared, the life he lived Is an untold story. One can only guess: Sugarcane on the island, an island that ran out Of natives for the white men to beat, So they beat my father’s father’s father

Buffalo soldier, who knows he was my ancestor? No stain of his country on my skin. What would he say if he knew his descendent would Look like the demons who ruled him? Was mixed to the point of whiteness. Would he be Fierce and Outraged? Embarrassed and Ashamed? Or Humble and Thankful only, that I would have opportunities he never had? Who can tell? The gauze of time is stretched over

My eyes Are still his brown And I hope my children Will carry his stain With the knowledge that because of the strength and unity of our people, We will not be persecuted!

I hope by their time there are no beatings But perhaps I hope in vain Maybe this hatred between races will never end. BUT My children will not be beaten by this whip of racism, nor chained by these Chains called stereotypes Or killed for another man’s hatred.

In memory of an ancestor whose name I don’t even know, whose nation and life I don’t even know. But he burns inside of me.