Poem 1

White Skinned, Blonde Haired, Straight Haired

The curls on her head differentiated her

her white skinned, blonde haired, straight haired family. 

Light eyes, white skin, blonde hair, straight hair.

Their eyes pierced at her making her feel uncomfortable in her own caramel skin. 

She understood where she stood. 

She felt the difference between them and her. 

“Blood is thicker than water”, they say, 

but the blood between her dark skinned father and her caramel skin was much thicker than her mothers white skinned, blonde haired, straight haired family. 

You’d think as Dominicans they’d understand where they come from. 

You’d think the inclusion and making her feel as an equal would be enough. 

It wasn’t.

Caramel skin just didn’t fade away. 

Umbrellas never helped her stay away from the sun to allow her skin to become compatible with their white skin.

Her brown hair won’t take away from the obvious blonde hair they have. 

Her curly hair received stares as their straight hair made her uncomfortable with her own. 

Poem 2

Silk Scarf

Dear Silk Scarf, 

I wrap my curls every night before bed with you, 

resting my head on my silk pillowcase 

hoping you’ll keep my curls tucked in tonight. 

Oh, silk scarf 

how you understand the folds of every curl on my head. 

You safely cuddle it as if you’ve known them for a long time. 

Silk scarf, you sometimes upset me because you slip off my head at night while I get out of bed to use the bathroom late at night. 

I know you feel contempt

 from my white skinned, blonde haired, straight haired 

grandmother who makes remarks about you.

Silk scarf you make me feel safe. 

You understand me. 

You make me love the part of me I wanted to run from

 And deny since I was a little girl

 Just to capture the image they all wanted me to. 

Silk scarf, I wish there was more of your love on every little curly haired girls head. 

I never thanked you for becoming part of me and my identity.

I hid my curls for so long under many blow dryers and flat irons to suppress who I truly am and it’s all because of you. 

I wrapped you on my head for the first time and felt my place. 

I felt where I belong. 

Oh Silk Scarf, thank you for being the reason

 my curls cuddles up with your folds 

every night before bed. 

You too have a story that no one talks about. 

Thank you Silk Scarf. 

Poem 3

Little Church Girl

Little church girl you don’t have to hide

Little church girl you don’t have to cry

Little church girl, you’re beautiful

They don’t see your scars for they are hidden on the inside

They don’t hear your cries, for they are silent at night

Little church girl you’ll someday grow up to be a strong women of God

Not many know your story, but they don’t have to for He already does

Little church girl He is your story

Wipe your tears


Keep walking soldier

Little church girl, you’ll grow up to teach others through your strength

Don’t give up

Little church girl you don’t have to hide for you are strong



Praise is hushed away with the wind

Prayer ends a Sunday Service

Lights fade

Cameras turn off

Mics are put away

Instruments are shut off

Worshippers come off the altar 

She’s rushed off

Anxiety returns

Tension rises back up

“Did the Spirit move?”

“Did my voice crack”?

“Was it enough?”

“Did I fail?”

More anxious thoughts

The week passes by

Work begins

The meeting starts

“Do I speak?”

“Did I sound okay?”

“I won’t speak again”

Anxiety overwhelms the mind

Anxiety taunts the mind as a bellowing tower waiting to collapse over

Anxiety is a constant battle she wants to overcome

Anxiety is only hushed away for a couple of minutes 

Praise fills the room loudly

Sunday Service begins 

Lights flash

Cameras on 

Mics are grabbed

Instruments are turned back on 

Worshippers flood to the altar

She trembles, but walks back on

Anxiety is hushed for a moment