A note from the author: We celebrated MLK day just a few days ago, and after seeing countless reminders that only love can only drive out hate, I got to thinking about how, regardless of his nonviolent message, many white people seem to forget his disappointment with inactive white “allies”:
“First, I must confess that over the last few years, I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in the stride toward freedoms is not the White Citizen’s Counselor or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice…who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait until “a more convenient season.”
This is a poem about my frustration toward white people who don’t outwardly admit they have said racist things. This is a poem expressing my anger at those who excuse their actions because they have a black friend or significant other. This is a poem expressing my anger about white folk who are down on social media but fall silent when it’s time to organize in real life. To call yourself a supporter of black lives and black liberation means that you support our methods and actions we take, and be as altruistic as humanly possible when advocating for us.
-Samantha Adams, 01/25/2016
honeybreath (or words and things I think of when I hear ‘white liberalism’)
false / promise
old plastic smell
the chemical aftertaste found in a blue icee.
tea bags, black tea leaves smothered by honey
I agree with your mission but not with your method
post an article
fight the power with a fractured wrist
scratchy, quickly knit blanket left red rash
prejudiced (in quotation marks), not racist oh no
mold forms relatively fast when you buy fruit just to leave it on a surface of something.
your fruit, sitting on the state-of-the-art granite countertop is growing spores
and once it starts good intention becomes rancid mush.
middle class vanilla lady watchin’ MSNBC likes to put a hyphen
between two words African and American to describe someone
doesn’t like a stir of
bigger noise or broken glass but bigger
words make her feel better. she’s kinda like
a dog with a slimy tongue begging for a treat
from a black hand straining to lift white weight.