Self

I now realized that I’ve been searching for the meaning of my own blackness. My social environments, for I’ve lived in three different cultures till now, have given me each their own definition of who I should be. I am now consciously asking the question, who am I? Shall I be what the outside world sees me to be, or sees me not, for I can be invisible to many when it is convenient for them. Should I be Haitian, should I be a “dude”, should I be an African-American or should I be a Nigger? I wouldn’t be telling the truth if the fourth choice wasn’t listed, for a very great majority of the ‘sheople’ (sheep + people) in this country will forever refer to me, or see me as that. Though that is a fact, I will not even entertain the thought of this fourth choice, for the word, the idea becomes potent only when given thought, or attention.
I have digressed; I have the potential, and the ability to be three of the four, because I’ve been all three. I was born Haitian; I’ve danced to sweet Kompa with island girls who’s warmth can’t be described, I’ve done Irish car bombs, the drinks, with girls who’ve needed two towels in the morning, and I’ve “talked” to girls who mothers were known as ‘Brick Houses’. Self-definition in the making, I am the one who’s going live within this skin, I am the one who’s going to see this face in the morning, evening, and night, hence I am the one who will choose.