Jennifer R., Star-Quana J., Jennifer M.
Who am I you ask….
I just want to be loved, desired, fantasized, and admired, but the world still holds on to what institutions require.
Maybe we should have been born colorblind, so then color cannot define, or make me or break me.
For years I have battled my own intuitions, settling for being second best, society’s mistress…
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
What makes a woman be the greatest of them all?
Being an American woman?
A British woman,
A Sri Lankan woman,
A short woman, a tall woman,
A black woman, a white woman.
Let’s take it back to slavery times,
Where you could be you but I could not be “I”.
Because you were Master and I was slave…
So therefore without you I have no place.
See then you did not acknowledge me, so I could not exist,
But I have since then risen, fought hard and now have a voice,
And you have no choice but to see me, and hear what I have to say.
And so now I ask you, what gives you the right to try and make me exceed an expectation I cannot meet?
Who are you to define what makes me divine, my race, class, gender, and sexual preferences…
I am not one to stand and abide by the norms which hinders my “freedom”,
Nor am I to be society’s conjunction of a “woman”.
I am not a woman, who could ever be defined,
I am my own not what you make me out to be.
Can’t you see I am not the ideologies that are shown on TV…
I am Me.