My Black Child - By Benjamin Dixon

Sometimes I look at my black child and want to apologize,
Because we birthed them into a society that can be so cruel and so uncivilized.
The very thought of my black child venturing into this world without me silently terrorizes
A lingering torment I’ve been forced to compartmentalize

Because you see their black child could very well have been my own
Empathy is when we grieve for their black child just like you would grieve for your own,

Sometimes I look at my black child and wanna level with them,
Because they were born into a system that will assassinate their character even after it has assassinated them,
Forcing our Black parents to defend their black child’s legacy before they’ve even had a chance to bury them.
All because they were born into a system that has mastered the art of dehumanizing them,

But I gotta compartmentalize that thought away
Because look at my black child,
When they go outside and play,
They dream, they dance and deduce with the magnificence of their blackness,
Only to have it gentrified and de-seasoned to be made palatable for the white masses

But look at my black child,
The descendant of a People this empire could never break.
A People so strong that their catalog of traumas is encoded in our DNA
A People who have survived everything this universe has ever thrown our way,
A People for whom overcoming is no longer sufficient, we shall lead the way,

They will call you lazy,
When they know you work harder.

They will call you ignorant
Because they fear you’re smarter.

They’ll call you ugly,
When you are the object of their desire,

They’ll call you uncivilized
When they’re the barbarians at the gate of their own empire.