Why I Want My Say on Dr. King’s Day

(I wrote the following performance poem for a poetry jam this Monday celebrating Martin Luther King Jr.'s Birthday. Hope it has meaning for you)

Why should I get my Dr. King’s Day say? Look close or just glance my way. My skin even in the palest light. White. White man, white American, white baby, white boy, white man grown, always white, never wrong always white. Never a worry, never a fear. Never denied my right to books. Never denied my right to vote. Never suspect behind a Mercedes’ wheel. Never had a Mercedes to wheel but, in a suit and tie, I’d look right in that leather seat. Never had to watch from the corner of my eye walking with a woman not like me. Never fear. Never worry. Never the different one here. Why should I get my Dr. King’s Day say? My skin even in the palest light, white.

Tell me your truth and I’ll tell you mine. Young man in Detroit, hearing the slurs in my younger years, lucky later to learn the truth, not from hearts of stone but flesh and blood that flows. Found myself in a two race world. Black friends then, I have to say, most more middle class than me, but no matter, born black, had no choice but to be black and so tried to teach me. Traded the Beatles for Bobby Blue Bland, grew long hair to piss off the boss, drove a big American sedan, wore a sharkskin suit, took up jazz and understood … what a difference a day makes, only 24 hours … smoked Kools, drank Johnny Walker Black and smoked something cooler. Came to Chicago and chanted with Jesse, “I am somebody,“ taught inner city kids, and learned to dance so smooth acid-gyrating hippies asked is he one of us or one of them and everyone sang, “different strokes for different folks.”

But let’s tell it right. Still I was white. Still am, still was. Still the majority man waiting just a haircut away. Put on the blue suit and a winning smile, I’m no longer black if I ever was but the golden boy ready to rise. So why should I get my say on Dr. King‘s Day?

Please indulge me if you will … even if I haven’t suffered in full. Why is it that I want my say? Well, I’ve watched how this world turns … together we rise, apart we fall. If they can come for one, they can come for one and all. Because when God’s creating word made woman and man and named us good … no mention was made of this race or that. Don’t try to hide, don’t try to run, check your heart and you’ll know it’s clear, all the sisters and brothers here came up from one.

My skin even in the palest light. White. So why on this day should I want my say? This simple my friends: The story is ours, not mine or yours, and there’s more to be written -- much, much more.