Jean LB Creamer,
Richmond, VA
If I could have another chance
If I could say I’m sorry
I would scream it till I cried
I would plead until you knew
I would post it on the
Bricks of the Food Lion on Forest Hill Avenue
Where I unleashed a torrent of anger
Borne not of racism
But of illness and exhaustion.
But you will never know this.
When your car cut me off,
My stomach heaved again,
And alongside the nausea of pregnancy
Rose blistering anger at the
Recklessness of teenage drivers.
Immediately you exited your car,
Heading over to me,
A dark-skinned teenager with
An intent expression,
Your friends gathered behind you
And you apologized.
You apologized to me,
Yet in my blind and self-absorbed sickness that day,
I threw your apology back at you and
I barraged you with angry words,
Steeped in the acid of nausea, self-pity,
And self-righteousness.
It did not occur to me until later
How I made you feel,
How you doing the right thing
Still got you smacked with my terrible
Unjustified outburst.
How this must have looked and felt like
Another racist encounter,
And how my verbal abuse
And refusal to engage with
Your good will
Continued the undeserved maltreatment
You had likely experienced
Too many times in your young life.
If I could have another chance,
I would join you in your desire for peace
I would shake your hand
And thank you
And confirm the good person
That you are
And greet your friends who
Stood beside you.
A tirade stinging of discrimination
Was not my intent.
But it was my impact.
And it was my fault.
MY fault.
I am so sorry.
I am so very sorry.
<strong>#URTRCP </strong><strong>#TheRaceCardProject</strong>
