Skip to main content

Been Black My Whole Life





Been Black My Whole Life

I’ve been Black my whole life
I get followed when they see me in sight 
Lock the doors and hold that purse tight 

I’ve been Black my whole life
It's a wallet not a gun or a knife 
I may not live to see another night 

I’ve been Black my whole life
10-15 years now I'm doing time?
You know damn well I didn't commit a crime

I’ve been Black my whole life
I'm yelling Black lives matter until they do right  
Just like Sofia, all my life I had to fight


‘Cause I’ve been Black my whole life 

-Amira Mensah

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Respect the Black Woman

*The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman.                                              -Malcom X The anger I feel when I am disrespected seeps past this life time into another from generations ago. The sadness I feel is the sadness of not just my own. The pain I feel is the collective pain of us all. There hasn't been a time in this country's history when the disrespect of the Black women hasn't been justified by the stereotypical characteristics attributed to us. We are defined and named as attitude, criminal, promiscuous, and most frequently, angry. For years, nothing could be done. We could only endure as we were enslaved, raped, beaten, killed and insulted. In this time as we continue to fight for equality, it is hard to not be discouraged the moment we fall victim to disrespect and nothing is done. Society sits quietly while recognizing an injustice. We look around for the appropriate consequences to take effect or even just someone

Birthday Girl Ashantigyal

My poor roommate! I some how manipulated her into taking pictures of me last night so I could have a bomb birthday Instagram post. 124 photos later, I realized that I hated all of them. I know it sounds ridiculous but I began experiencing extreme anxiety about not having a  photo to post this morning. After thinking long and hard for a solution, I remembered that I have a photo of myself as a child that I absolutely love. In the photo you can see baby Ashantigyal sitting on a bench surrounded by plants with her eyes closed soaking in life. When I look back at that photo I see more than just a younger me. I see a child who was radiant, confident and hopeful. I see a little girl who had a clear path to  her dreams. As we grow older, we experience growing pains in many forms. For me, my growing pains came in the form of depression and self-doubt. If we are not careful, we can allow our growing pains to debilitate us.  This day in my 28th year of life, I am grateful that I can also

Grandma's Bungalow

                                                                Grandma’s Bungalow     An excerpt from my working memoir, “Memoirs of a Lost Ashanti Soul” My sanctuary is located in Kumasi at Mbrom. Grandma’s bungalow is refuge for my soul. The African bungalow where the family matriarch resides is a place many feel at home. There is not a place I have lived where I have felt at home other than grandma’s bungalow. There are few places we can go in this world where we feel a strong connection to our souls. For me, the overwhelming connection to my soul and this bungalow is a result of my first experiences with the things that bring our souls back to us. Here inside my home, I feel love. I learn about Ashanti traditions and customs. I hear stories of our ancestors. Mounted on the walls are photos of family and close friends of the family, both past and present. Descending from the ceilings are well wishes and greetings from prior visitors. The halls have a funny way of evoking