Part 1: Anti-Black Racism: How did we get here? Is there Racism in Canada? This is the question I'm asked the most. Except, It's phrased like a statement: There's no racism in Canada. As the internet has exploded with story after story in the past month People's eyes are being opened. No longer can we… Continue reading Racism in Canada
Hello, my name is Karen and I suffer from imposter syndrome. Most days, I don't feel like part of the black community.
I hate you! door slam means Please, love me, even when I bellow like a foghorn atop a lighthouse Battered by the salty waves Buffeted by the relentless winds Alone on the craggy shoreline of a fathomless ocean
I held my breath when I first caught sight of you As if my soul knew I was diving deep You didn't notice me But I saw you in the crowd And my heart murmured Yes Dressed in white your smile a beacon at the end of the aisle My heart pounding in my chest.… Continue reading Yes
They called me a basket child, a homeless case, drawn out from the murky waters, burnt by the family tree; she will be a flame bearer, the bathing maidens exclaimed! She will be mine, the compassionate one breathed, the rushes did not stir; did not reveal the surrogate's trail-- I wept.
Blue eyes Peer at me every week over the wooden pew I share with my husband A child's face framed by a halo of golden curls I smile but she doesn't smile back I'm certain she has never seen white teeth against brown skin in her church before Week after week I smile and her… Continue reading Invisible
A mere drop in the bucket Unlike Monday Which opens its great Gaping maw Its immense eye upon me Ready to swallow me Whole
A tree without roots Head and heart heavy Unbalanced Clinging to the soil She cannot draw from the water of the generations that came before There are no leaves so the birds can rest from the sun No blossoms for the bees Her bare branches lay stark against the grey sky A man takes… Continue reading Adopted
I always lived on the wrong side of the tracks although I didn't know it then the silver threads followed me wherever we moved through bullying loneliness broken hearts the constant was the rumble of the train in the night the haunting wail of the horn begging me to follow The clic clac of the… Continue reading Metal Lullaby
BLACK because the colour of my skin ...although, I always told my Mom I was really brown... How often did I get judged by how I looked? How is that fair for anyone? WHITE they called me an Oreo black on the outside white on the inside although delicious, the word stung my heart shrank… Continue reading Black, White & Read All Over