I didn’t know you were black

Jerrell Bratcher,
Baltimore, MD

Why does the color of my skin offend you? I’m tired of “you are smart.” I’m tired of “you don’t sound black.” What makes it so difficult for you to see my ideas as my own? Oh, it’s because I’m black. Why must everything that I say, think, or do as a black man, offend you? When something goes wrong, why is it my fault? When something goes right, why is it to someone else’s credit? I’m tired of “you didn’t think of that on your own, someone must’ve helped you with it.” Why must I be an endangered human being, absent from roles, tables, schools, meetings, and boards? Whether I have a degree or not there is always an excuse, it’s either too little, too much, or not just quite enough. I’m tired of being perceived as a threat just because I’m a black man. Why must I overperform stunts like “superman” in order to prove my worth and value? Why am I the last one in but the first one to be ushered out?


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