My Father's business

I've been told to calm down my entire life. "You work too hard." "You have too much energy." "You're wild and outrageous." As if I'm not black in America. As if I'm not a woman in America. As if oppression wasn't the first thing I learned after my ABC's. I made the po decision of keeping quiet over the last years. Speaking up when the time was right but never publicly exhibiting my rage. My approach was to become the change that I wanted to see. To unite colors to smooth out the lines of friction that rub us all the wrong way. I'm a woman of many tribes. I dont fall into stereotypes and I've worked my ass off to be seen as more than just a face or body. My brain is my hottest asset. My skills make me powerful. A critical thinker, a spiritual being, and valuable human. But no matter how large my stock buildsthe value of my black skin continues to depreciate. Top of the totem pole with the shortest end of the stick. 

I won't calm down. 

I can't stop now.