Voices in the Dark
By: Ms. MadeForMore, Washington, DC
“Shh…”
Hush now, don’t cry, and let me sing you a lullaby
Let me tell you a story that will help lay your fears to rest
There is strength in being silent; there is a calm that can be reached
If you simply close your eyes, bow your head and keep your mouth shut.
“Please my sister just listen, please I beg you don’t speak. I know it hurts
And you feel broken but you’ll make us worst for all of us if you break the silence.”
Don’t speak?
Don’t speak?
What does she mean don’t speak?
She is my sister, her skin bronzes like mine in the sun; she is a queen in all her glory.
She knows my plight, she feels my pain, but yet she begs to me suppress it.
Pleads with me to ignore it.
“Sshh”, she says.
“Don’t cry, let me sing you a lullaby. Let me stroke your hair and welcome you into this elite group of womanhood.”
But he—
“Shh”, she says.
And then he—
“Don’t cry”, she says.
Why won’t you let me speak?
Why won’t you let me tell you what he did?
“Let me sing you—“
He raped me!
“He is our brother! Do you want the world to hate him?
Don’t our people have enough problems?”
Is she serious? She wants me to keep my mouth shut
because my perpetrator is black. Because he is my brother.
My brother?
My brother would not have done this to me. He would not have lured me, deceived me, made me trust him…and then stole
He Stole!!!
My innocence…
How can you “shh” me? How can you take his side over mine?
Because the white man is always on his back? Because he’s had a hard life? Because as his Black Sister, Nubian Queen, his ride or die, his hoe, his baby mama. I’m supposed to understand his struggle?
What about my struggle?
I am black
AND
I am a woman
I refuse to always put being black first
I refuse to be silenced
No longer will I allow my voice to be masked by the darkness.
