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Men In Black

My daughter is 2
and her world is so much
different than the one
I was a child in.
The news was never so scary
And I’m afraid of how
jaded she'll grow up to be.

With people being profiled
at the airport
because their skins have been
imported from the middle east.

With the television giving
up-to-the-minute updates
every time a blue-eyed blond girl
goes missing.

And it’s not that I don’t
appreciate the sorrow.
It’s just that justice
has painted itself white
and bleached the media
back to the sixties -
with blonde roots
and a breakdown in communication.

My daughter is 2.
We rented “Men In Black”
and she laughed.
At all the right moments
at all the right jokes,
slick suits and sunglasses.

She knew who the good guys were.
But she had trouble with the phrases.
Now anytime she sees a man in a suit she asks
“Daddy, is that a black man?”

I know what she means
but the question
leaves me wanting
to give her answers she never asked for.
I want to tell her I wish it was that easy.
That it’s the clothes that make the man
hate another man.
That the reason people hate
can just be peeled away
like pressed cotton and Ray Bans.
That underneath we are all naked and the same.

I want to tell her how I was raised
to be “color-blind”
but that’s a lie I don’t even buy.
When you realize
how hard it is to describe a person
without
skin.

I want to tell her
that the fear of saying black
will take us back
another 400 years.
When you can’t admit the differences
you just increase the distances
and that’s when people get lost
and start determining the cost
for their fellow man.

People, please,
We are more that our melanin count.
And being color blind
binds us to deny
thousands of years of culture.

Jesus Christ was not caucasian
but that doesn’t mean you can’t listen to him,
or Muhammad or Buddha.
Hell, even Pablo Neruda
was a different skin tone
than I am,
but that doesn’t mean

I can’t understand
a love poem when I hear one.

My daughter is 2.
and I don’t want her
to be color blind
and in time I hope I can show her
that your skin’s not necessarily your culture.
That being white doesn’t make you
a hero or a villain
like being black doesn’t make you African.

That it’s what you believe that
brings you strength.
That who you help
is what makes you a hero.
That the lives you touch
are what teaches you.
That we are not all the same
but we can all be beautiful.

SO don’t be color blind
but realize
If you can peel away
the way people hate
there’s nothing but fear behind it.
So be mindful that our differences
are not distances
but a measurement of who we are
and how far we have come.

My daughter is 2.
And I hope she always knows
that the good guys aren’t as obvious
and black and white
and that every “good night”
is heading toward a “good morning”
and one more chance
to get the phrases right.

“Goodnight.”