I Used to

By Desiree Okonkwo, 15, United States

I used to agree and accede,

As they laughed because the teacher turned off the lights,

Giggle and sniffle while tears formed in my eyes,

Embarrassment forever fortified in my mind,

I used to mumble and mutter,

Watching them rip my culture to shreds,

Mocking my family’s accents as they shook their heads,

Inescapable humiliation bound around me like thread,

I used to whisper and whither,

My hands reaching for a straightener at an awful attempt,

At the role of “white girl” that I only achieved when I dreamt,

Depravedly desperate for any skin whitening bleach,

My immense ignominy a life-sized leech,

I used to resent and recoil from my reflection,

Contempt created by my colored complexion,

Nails digging in as I hurriedly scrubbed at my skin,

As if I could scrape away the black to unlock the white within

Playing a game supplied by shame I could never win

I used to detest, but now I accept,

Bewitched by my brown color with a bit of remorse and regret

That I ever allowed myself to be so miserable misled,

That I ever viewed my home and heritage with horrid hatred,

That I ever believed racist rhetoric that was said and spread,

But worst of all, that I ever assumed that my blackness could make me less than.