Sometimes I get so angry
I go to black businesses
And spend as much as I can afford.
I tip 30 instead of 15.
Sometimes I get so annoyed
I tell my woman how beautiful her curls are.
I drool over her complexion.
I get so mad I tell her to never lose her curves.
Sometimes I get so cross
I smile and ask, “How are you?”
To every Black person I see.
I get so pissed I volunteer.
So furious
I help Black children with their homework.
So enraged I spend time
With the boy I promised to mentor.
Sometimes I get so incensed
When I see all the things we don’t own.
Then I remember the words of Che Guevara
On guerilla warfare.
I go to the white man’s gym
And build strength, endurance and discipline.
I build habits I can pass to my children.
I go to the white man’s grocery store
And buy healthy foods
So I can live as long as possible
With few diseases and all my energy.
I go to the white man’s library
And soak up all the knowledge I can get
I fume when I see our bookstores have closed
But I still go to the white man’s
And support the works of my people.
Sometimes I get so fiery
I study the history of my family
And plan on how I will build on our legacy.
I research the history of my people
Not just as survivors of slavery
But as the heirs to all of Africa’s riches.
I get so impassioned
I realize that when oppressors bred us
They made us all of the best of Africa.
I am the ingenuity of the Ancient Egyptians.
I am the royalty of Ethiopian Kings and Queens.
I am the feared speed of Kenyan runners.
I have ability and the genes
To do anything I put my mind to.
Sometimes I get so heated
I pore through class schedules,
Looking for new skills to gain
So I can own my own means
And never trade silence for pay.
When I get this angry
I yell the words of Marcus Garvey.
“Up you mighty race, accomplish what you will.”
