Black Feet

Most people don't know this about me, but I wanted to be black when I was very young, like kindergarten and earlier. Huntington Beach was composed, almost completely, of white people and mexicans, there were a few asians thrown in, but I cannot remember any black people in my neighborhood.

It started with Michael Jordan. He was my hero, and all his teammates were like sidekicks. I loved watching basketball (I could never play it, I have lacked coordination for most of my life, but that is another story) and watching him play was like poetry, he exemplified everything I valued most in an athlete, he was strong, very hardworking, a team player, and seemingly humble, not to mention he made amazing slam-dunks.

I saw him and scotty pippen and all of the other amazing black athletes in basketball and I assumed, like any young white kid in any whitewashed town, that all black people were amazing at sports. I was so envious that I told my mom that I wished I was black. At that point my mom tried to explain a bit what racism was, but I could not understand why anyone would dislike people based on their skin color.

I was quite vocal with this too. There was a black cashier at my Trader Joes in Huntington Beach, and I thought he was the most awesome thing ever. One time I said, "Hey look mommy the black guy is here!" and my mom was so embarrassed, she tried to hush me but I was just so happy to see a "real live" black person. He was so nice about it too, he was a little flustered but took it in stride, poor guy.

so this poem is related to my above thoughts but very different.


Black Feet

I want to have black feet,
covered by the soot of the asphalt tributaries,
of this expansive land.
My soul thick with callouses,
my sweat as the dew that covers
the swaying wheat, the rushing wind,
the desert roads snaking through canyons
with venomous views,
and kaleidoscope skies.
the great spirit visible
in every muddy pool and
pang of hunger.
Maybe this is why the Black Foot tribe
chose that name, their feet
bloody from travel
and black from the from the embers
that kindle the sunrise.
This is my abandonment,
my dream of absence from