They take my kindness for weakness.

They take my silence for speechless.

They consider my uniqueness strange.

They call my language slang.

They see my confidence as conceit.

They see my mistakes as defeat.

They consider my success as accidental.

They minimize my intelligence to potential.

My questions mean that I’m unaware.

My advancement is somehow unfair.

Any praise is preferential treatment.

To voice my concern is discontent.

If I stand up for myself, I'm too defensive.

If I don’t trust them, I'm too apprehensive.

I'm deviant if I separate.

I'm fake if I assimilate.

My character is constantly under attack.

Pride for my race means I'm "too black."

- Sianna Leavy

*applause*

Currently Listening El Abayarde By Tego Calderón see related