Hi APC! My name is Satiya Ewing-Boyd. I’m a Black girl born and raised in Washington, DC. I graduated high school this year and taking a gap year before attending Xavier University of Louisiana next fall.
I wrote the following three poems after a string of attacks on Black women. I was reminded of not only of the traumas I have had to endure at the hands of Black men, but also of widespread traumas that Black women, along with Black genderqueer and nonbinary people, experience because of cis-sexism. It was so natural for me to begin writing after being reminded of it, and these three poems, along with others, came forth.
conditional love/an open letter to Black men
conditional love feels like a soul fracturing;
swear i could feel you reach into my chest and pull out the parts that were easy for you to handle; left bits and pieces scattered; left me wondering if it was me that should change; silenced me; halted my development.
i long for complete love; i want to see you stand for me; when you say protect Black women i wonder if you mean all of me or just the parts that fit your narrative; i cannot bring myself to find out because i’ve convinced myself some of it is better than none at all.
i know i’ve allowed the wound to fester for too long; i keep hoping you’ll come back and gently pick up the parts you left behind; yell to the world that you have my back; that you have all of our backs; i suppose this is wishful thinking; i suppose this is foolish fantasy.
conditional love feels like a soul fracturing.
______
conditional love/an open letter to Black men
as black girls must we die to be loved?
when the world gives us their pain aren’t we done by then?
if our duty is to support our men, do we cease to exist by ourselves?
we fight and we die and we fight and we die.
what is it?
to be Black?
to be Girl?
to be the backbone?
to be labeled loud and never listened to?
to be so easily snatched away? to be so easily discarded?
i feel like we’re screaming and no one is hearing us.
i feel these deaths in each of my chakras. i feel them shaking me. i hearl the dead Black girls crying out loud. i hear the silence in return. i hear the silence in return. i hear the silence in return.
___
i cut a mango for myself
I sat on my bed and cut a mango for myself. I ate each slice slowly.
I thought about Black women.
I thought about Black men.
I thought about being on the brink.
I thought about being brought back.
I thought about the Black men that took me to the brink.
I thought about the Black women who brought me back.
To be Black and girl is to be seen as magic and simultaneously seen as less than human.
I sat on my bed and cut a mango for myself. I ate each slice slowly.
I remembered the Black boy in middle school that touched me over and over again: on my waist. on my stomach. on my breast.
I remembered the way he hugged me and wouldn’t let me go.
I remembered the feeling of suffocation.
I remembered the times I stopped him from touching me
I remembered the times I didn’t.
To be Black and girl is to be seen as strong and therefore never seen as vulnerable.
I sat on my bed and cut a mango for myself. I ate each slice slowly.
I recalled how when I was 14 and 15, a Black boy I thought of as big brother picked me up and twirled me.
I recalled how he teased and tickled me, as a big brother does.
I recalled the day I found out he said that if I was older, he would have “smashed” me.
I recalled the day I found out he fucked 16 year olds.
I recalled realizing I was being groomed.
I recalled the feeling of disgust and shame settling into my bones.
To be Black and girl is to be seen as too loud and to be constantly silenced.
I sat on my bed and cut a mango for myself. I ate each slice slowly.
I remembered the Black girls who told me he did the same to them.
I remembered their quiet comfort.
I remembered their careful touches of support.
This is what it means to be a Black girl.
I recalled the Black girls that reminded me it wasn’t my fault.
I recalled their words of wisdom.
I recalled their gentle hugs.
This is what it means to be a Black girl.
We are strong. We are vulnerable. We are magic. We are human. We are loud. We will not be silenced.
We are all of it, for each other. We must be. For if not us, who?
