This time around, I want to share some intimate writing of my own. As I’m working toward publishing a book of poems, I see this as a chance to work on the vulnerability it takes to share a deep part of myself with others. I’ve always loved having meaningful connections to others, my work, my studies, and my community.
This comes from a reflection exercise from my Gender and Identity class a couple of terms ago. This poem has also headlined a trans poetry night as well as a stage production and variety showcase of incredible queer talent.
The dark skin girl,
With the snow-white curls,
How can she know if she is unknown.
Light breaks through the window,
The snow crisp under foot,
Every step towards the ‘necessary’.
Teachings of white men,
All clad in their robes,
The colonial structure would always win.
But how can she know if she is unknown.
Stomach growling with hunger,
Like days before then,
Steal the food from the chain stores.
Never will be enough,
Life gets better than the beatings,
And let’s face it, it makes me tough.
But how can she know if she is unknown.
The curls chemically faded,
Trying to fit in,
Where teasing stops, another begins.
You must please others,
With your looks and your body,
You have nothing else to give when you are nobody.
But how can she know if she is unknown.
With growth comes pain,
And with pain comes displeasure,
But ‘you must sit back and take it’ because of his pleasure.
These roles and rules,
Produced, taught and lived,
How can she give more when there is nothing left TO give.
Now a mother must always make way for their ‘equal’,
Take care of your kids,
So, it can be another sequel.
But how can she know if she is unknown.
The world breaks,
You’re under attack,
And all you know in this world is cracked.
Speaking your truth will get you hurt,
Sit down and be quiet until you leave this earth.
But I know who SHE is.
The little GIRL from before.
SHE is sassy, and outspoken, and used to sit down before.
Now I stand with HER today and forever more,
For SHE is my teacher, my spirit, my gift, my roar.
While I walk these lands as a two-spirit being,
I think of that GIRL and every fibre of HER beginning,
How my children will learn to love themselves without fearing,
Any pushback from the ones who will always love them for just being.
SHE pushed through so much so I could be here today,
So I can walk the world in this body MY way.
Non-Gendered, Queer, Artistic and LOUD.
They know who they are now, and SHE would be so proud.
As my time at Camosun slowly comes to a close after next term, I want to express gratitude from head to toes and to my soul. Having a chance to showcase local talent and share some worldviews and opinions that may differ from others has been so healing.
I am hopeful for a future for all of us that’s rooted in clarity, honesty, love, trust, and freedom. That we can all take care of one another and remember that different walks of life are what truly keep us unique. Even though we don’t see eye to eye on everything, we all bleed the same color of blood. We breathe the same air. We share the same Earth. Be kind.