Day 22 - Spaces Are Psychic

An SRA building it is.

My home, a vertical slum,

as you refer it often,

in your books and the class,
a spoken word like this one,

and an eloquent TED talk.

You, the researcher, the poet

my teacher in the hood,

a corporator from here

or a business tycoon,

the narrator of my stories,

the one who refuses to live in

or is too afraid of my home.

Oh you, my saviour,

the advocate for equity,

reforms and success in my life

oh you, who at the same time

dismisses me and my life.

In your curated 

and photoshopped

view of my life

you see the violence,

the guns and the fear, 

anger at the loss 

of someone very dear,

rape, abuse and drugs.

Or go to other side,

patronise me for my grit,

my suffering and my life.

My laughter, my joy

my vocab or my dance,

is invisible to y'all, 

or exotic, to be only used 

for your brochures.

But tell me, 

have you ever felt 

that anxiety

which results,

from the gunshot 

that rang past

an apartment window?

Do you know what it feels 

to inhibit these spaces

that transcend geography

and move around in our bodies

wrapped in the shroud of emotions 

whose fibre are my varied

daily experiences?

If you haven't,

then pause your pen,

or keyboard, I assume? 

Before you can teach,

or write about me,

or make another policy

that will change my life,

as you claim, know that

our spaces are psychic. 

And you are colonising both,

my space. and my psyche.

Gotta back off, y'all!

- Based on a text from For White Folks Who Teach in the Hood... and the Rest of Y'all Too: Reality Pedagogy and Urban Education