Stealin' My Culture
Billions of eyes trail me, scoping my every move
I can see the disgust in their faces as they pass
My culture, my hair, my dialect? All are stomped upon
like grapes crushed for wine.
Inquiries of “Can I touch your hair?” and
“Why is it so nappy?” are often repeated.
My braids and twists are
looked down upon and I’m deemed as “unattractive”.
But when they did it? They were
celebrated and given praise for being “chic” and “edgy”.
My cloud like afro is branded as “unprofessional” and causes me
to be kicked out of class.
But when they did it?
Oh, how the tables were turned.
Locs make people assume that you smell like marijuana
or that you’re a thug.
But when they did it?
Their hair was simply beautiful.
Extravagant.
Unique.
Speaking in a different dialect makes people believe
that you’re a hoodrat who doesn’t know how to
speak English.
But when they did it?
They were hip and cool,
yet they were still respected,
still treated like human beings.
Why is my culture treated like dirt?
Why am I inferior?
Why are there double standards?
I want to know.