A Life Without The Poison Of Prejudice

A raging torrent of unfiltered agony has erupted from a people oppressed. We have been tiptoeing through life across the eggshells of a system that has compressed our very beings into a singularity—the color of our skin.

We have been taught to bend, to twist, to contort ourselves into the good graces of people who ripped from us our history, reduced us to mines they mine for cultural currency. Why are we being denied our humanity? Why are we being told to settle down in this fettered state of injustice? Will we ever be rid of the stench inhumanity? Will we have to explain this to future generations as a part of a story of triumph or of continuity?

Why am I having to write this?

Yes, we are strong. Yes, we are resilient. Yes, we are powerful beyond measure! But why must we grit our teeth, arm ourselves, and prepare to fight till our last breath just to be seen? To be seen, to be heard, to be free! We are traumatized. Dehumanized, we are stripped of innocence, denied the quality of vulnerability, and refused access to protection against the rabid fears of men. We have been cornered, pinned by the generational curse of being stolen from our land, and have been deluded into negotiations with the heirs of our captors.

They will not hand our humanity to us. We have been steadily toiling for generations through genocide, humiliation, degradation, and grotesque inequality. We are not asking for their permission anymore. We will raze! With our words, with our wit, and with our fists, we will raze! May the flames of this fight lay waste to cruel indifference, inequity, systems of injustice, and erasure. May the ashes serve as fertile, leveled ground for a people who will know how to live—truly live a life without the poison of prejudice.