The Diaspora

By Rachel Sekyere

This poem is about the African diaspora and the struggles and experiences of being a Black woman.

These wild curls, 
That go in different swirls 
The naps of my ancestors 
Who gave birth to protestors 
With deep dark flesh like the night and the earth 
Hair that looks like trees, the world gave birth 
Like brown sugar and everything sweet 
It's our rhythm we swing to our own beat 
Like the African diaspora 
That spans from Jamaica to Madagascar 
Like Yaa Asantewaa 
The freedom my ancestors never saw 
Did they know we would hate ourselves so? 
Even though we secretly glow
I know they envy my grace 
And try to make us hate the world's true birthplace 
We came from kings and queens, tribes and more 
And the bodies who refused to be enslaved, spirits still live in those shores 
And the laugh at our names, names that survived, could have been forever lost 
Do they know the cost? 
Telling me I should achieve straight blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin 
Where should I begin? 
Like Breonna, Breonna Taylor 
Cause even though she died she didn't go a failure. 
Yes my nose is wide, so are my lips 
My culture falls on me like the beads on my hips 
I'm black as black as the night as black as tar 
But for a while, I wasn't my number one star 
Saying I'm whitewashed, but this blackness could never be tainted 
I'm sorry if you can't see the picture that's been painted 
Surprised when I make my way down these Bronx streets with my vernacular 
But once this little girl found her voice everything that came out of it been spectacular. 

Performance

Process

My inspiration for this poem was my own and other Black women’s experiences while living in America. I spent the day writing about little notes of things I wanted to include and when writing it all just came together.