Back In The Day

A few weeks ago, Tom went up into our "attic" and brought down some items for me to look at. One of these items was a notebook of poems. I had forgotten about this notebook and it was like a "Back to the Future" experience while reading it!!

I remember wanting to be a poet when I was younger but I was so afraid of sharing my poems with anyone. My senior year of high school, we had to enter a local poetry contest as part of our AP English grade. The thought of writing something and submitting to strangers made me want to throw up. I asked my teacher to review three poems that I was considering for submission and she immediately tossed out the two I had hoped she would consider "winners".

My teacher chose the poem that I hadn't really wanted anyone to see but for some reason, had given her to read. She sat across from me, looked at me with tears in her eyes, and passionately told me that this was the poem that was going to win the contest.

Guess what?? My teacher was right. My poem won the Third Annual Young Writers Bilingual Poetry Contest!! As the winner of the contest, I was invited to read my winning poem and two others at the Tuscon Performing Arts Center on the last day of the Tucson Poetry Festival. I also had the honor of meeting Jimmy Santiago Baca and he told me I had a gift. ME!!! A gift!!! There are no words!!!

That was over 10 years ago and I had put that experience and writing poetry aside! But reading my poem reminded of how much I enjoyed myself that day and how proud of myself I was.

I'd like to share that winning poem with you - I hope that it touchs you on some level.

Shower

I rub the washcloth on my skin

Harder and harder

My skin raw

But I can not stop

I look at my dark brown stomach

The color is still there

Tears begin to well in my eyes

They fall on my cheeks

Brown cheeks

I rub harder

"Why won't it come off?"

I can't get it off

I am certain I am white underneath

I am like the blonde headed girl

Who called me nigger

I have her color somewhere

I must find it

Wring out the washcloth

Turn off the scalding hot water

Dry off my body

My skin is still brown

My efforts in vain

I walk by the mirror

I do not want to see

The dirty, ignorant black girl

That the blonde headed girl sees