Piece of 92
If I’m being honest this piece started as something completely different. It was supposed to be an ode to myself. A triumph for self-love. But this extends further than myself. This one’s dedicated to the 92 percent who stepped out on election day. Ready to preserve our rights and the rights of others. This letter signals how many of us have felt since this administration set anew. A reminder that we can’t always be the fighting force when people show us how we’re valued.
They’ve torn down every institution to protect us. Voted directly against us, but somehow I’m still standing. Living amongst those who think they’re owed my support but have never considered what I needed. I work twice as hard to get noticed and get pushed beyond measure in the field, but get shorted on my rewards. Yet, I know that there’s no one with talent and capability like me.
I, as a Black Woman, may never get due justice, reward, or protection. They may never throw enough petals for the praise that my efforts deserve. Yet, I still know that I’m one of a kind.
We’re living in times where the veil of faked inclusion has been shredded. The remnants lay at our feet, ready to be stitched whole, but we’ve said no. Find the needle in the haystack and weave the pattern yourself, because we’re tired.
Tired of uplifting, supporting, nurturing, fixing, fighting, advocating but most of all being overlooked.
We’re good enough to care for your children but not worthy of rights. Good enough to be your rib, but not worthy of your time. Smart enough for your boardroom, but unqualified for the title. Strong enough to stand at the front lines, but unworthy of the same favors.
Cue the barrage of roars that we’re being too sensitive or demanding. Can’t you tell we’re at a don’t care? Your complaints are transparent. Once again proving how much of my presence you think you’re owed.
Our capes have been hung and our feet have been kicked up and now it’s time to rest. Not forever, but at least long enough to relieve a little bit of this stress. Cause we’ve shown up time and time again we’re ready to fight for you, but you’re telling me when I’m at the axis I don’t deserve care too. You must be out your mind if you thought this would last forever. Carrying an unbalanced load when we were supposed to be partners, we were supposed to do this together.
I’m done with the reassurance that more will be done just for our interest to get swept under the rug. You’re fine with using our face for the appeal but show no effort to truly value what we do.
I wish I could say I feel bad about tuning out, but I think I owe myself that at the least. After months and months of pleading a case that was supposed to consider us all, we were met with turned backs and deceit. Being told that we’re being extreme and that our views were based on reality. And look at y’all now, scared, terrified, and frustrated. Finally, understanding that what we tried to prevent came true.
I’d say we’re owed an apology, but I know it’ll never come. We could plead, cry, and shout, and still nothing would be done.
In America, our voice doesn’t matter, yet it's so often the one that y’all call on. Telling stories of the comfort, the protection, the impact that we display. Yet, you never thought to consider that on election day. Siding with patriarchy, racism, and sexism too. Thinking somehow you’d be protected when that was never in the plan.
So now we all sit here not having a clue what to do. But one thing you best not do is call on the oh-so-strong 92.
With Love,
Allie
