Mysteries of Me

Adult's Walk
The Grand Rapids Times
By Marcel Gamble

Since it is Black History month I have decided to focus on race this week. I have chosen not to focus on one race but many.

This piece that I am sharing with you all this week was not written to demean anyone. This piece wasn’t written to put certain races on pedestals and leave others at ground level. This piece was written to open the eyes of those who may be battling with the sickness of ignorance.

In this poem I ask the question on numerous occasions, “Although, I am one race, why can’t I ever just be classified as myself.”

For instance, yes, I am black, but why can’t I be known for the actions I make and the activities that I participate in personally?

I Am a Man
I am a white man;
I’m clueless to the privilege that I have because I never ask for it.
I’m mad that those before me were oppressors because others expect me to restore it.
I despise society for always expecting me to be perfect.
People look at me like white supremacy was my idea and I birthed it.
I believe in equality and civil rights.
Why do people look at me twice when I say this?
Why do others look at me like I’m the officer on a power drive that is ridiculously ignorant?
Why do people think that every white guy is able to live off of family inheritance?
In my family no such thing exists.
Why in most situations am I seen as the racist?
I love life, but I hate this.
People think that I can just buy my way out of anything,
For the color of my skin; others think that I believe the entire world should respect me
Life is a hard equation;
Like a math student I am struggling.
I date an African American woman, and people ask, “Why are you recreating slavery.
So many are driven to learn criminal justice just so they could tazer me.
Why can’t I just be a man?

I am an Asian man.
People assume that I practice Buddhism because of my homeland.
Because I am Asian, people view me with frustration.
The attack on Pearl Harbor is over but, I’m hated with no hesitation.
I am an innocent man, so why do people look at me like I work for the Taliban?
People make remarks about my eyes and believe that I lack vision,
But I can see clearly with precision everyone’s intuition.
I’m not a Kung Fu martial artist;
I don’t do high kicks;
Yes, I have eaten with other utensils besides chop sticks.
I am not Mr. Miagi;
I have never chopped bricks.
I am just me.
My family does not own a nail salon, and I’m not a mathematician.
I don’t do crazy tricks with spatulas while I’m cooking in the kitchen.
People always tell me that I look like the clone of another .
Clearly they’re just mad because I resemble my brother.
Why can’t I just be a man?

I am an Hispanic Man
Although I am a citizen,
why on the daily do so many people identify me as an illegal immigrant?
I have never crossed the border so it amuses me when others threaten to deport me.
Sometimes, I’m treated like bad computer software;
many people work diligently to try and export me.
I have never worked below minimum wage a day in my life
Just because I’m Hispanic, people see me as a driver that cannot drive.
I have never had more than 5 passengers in my car;
I don’t drink coronas, and I don’t live at the bar .
Mi familia es mi vida ,but we all do not live in the same household .
People make remarks about my pancho but it keeps me warm when it’s cold.
My diet consists of more than just burritos and frijoles.
Why do people think they can tell me what I eat based off my race?
Others ask, “you like tacos right?” when they see my face.
I don’t speak Mexican because the correct term is Spanish.
One day I wish that the hatred against me would all just vanish.
Yes, I admire my history.
Yes, I have patriotic pride;
So you can comment all day about the flag that hangs
from the rear view mirror on the inside of my ride.
Why can’t I just be a man?

I am a black man.
Why am I the gangbanger that most people fear?
Check the prison stats;
I always make criminal of the year.
I’m constantly identified as the deadbeat dad
And the bad guy that good women wish they never had.
Others always say, “I don’t understand why you guys are in those videos with your baggy
clothes surrounded by the women that you label as hoes.”
I am not a convicted felon; I have not committed a crime.
You can check your watch all day; I haven’t done any time
I am not a cheater or a woman beater so don’t judge me for that .
I hate the sight of needles so I have never shot up crack.
Just because I’m black, people assume that chicken and kool aid should be incorporated
in my favorite meal
Bill collectors call ahead of time because they think that I’m going to be late paying every bill.
Why am I the con artist?
Why do I have to be the bum with no strategic plan?
When it comes to education, why do I have to be labeled as the man who doesn’t give a care?
Why am I the drug dealer that fights for a corner that I will never own?
Why do I have to be the guy that has messed up credit that will never own a home?
Why is the first of the month considered my holiday?
Why am I directed towards hip -hop or told sports is what I should play?
Why do store clerks stare me down automatically thinking I’m not going to pay?
Why do people think that I have bad hair?
Why am I the one from projects that’s on welfare?
Why is the government making me play a game of truth or dare?
I’m not a geologist; why am I the one on the block with the rocks?
Why am I the one steadily running marathons from the cops?
When will this discrimination ever stop?
Why can’t I just be a man?

Discrimination will continue for years to come as long as we remain a broken society. As long as people remain quiet about injustice issues and about how they feel being categorized, society will have its oppressed and its oppressors.

One for the week: Man does not comprehend its worth; it cannot be found in the land of the living. Job 28:13