I Never Stood

I never lived in Africa.
I never led a tribe.
I never poached a man and sold him to a trader.

I never owned a plantation.
I never wore a hood.
I never dragged a negro out of bed with a flashlight and a shotgun.

I don’t care if you sit in the front.
I don’t care if you vote.
I don’t care where you eat, drink, live, learn, shop,
or how you pray.

Never in my life did I spit at anyone,
refuse them service,
or call them nigger.

I never thought you were less.
I never thought you were more.
I never thought I knew Your Kind.

I don’t laugh at the jokes.
I don’t cross the street.
I don’t lower my voice when I say Black,
and I am not afraid of Strong Black Women.

I never kept you from wanting more.
I never told you to take less.
I never stopped you from going to work.

I didn’t give up your virginity when you were twelve.
I didn’t drop you out of school.
I didn’t shoot your father,
beat your mother,
shake your baby,
or pimp your sister.
I never jabbed a needle in your arm.

I’m a Cracker bitch because I don’t give you a hand up?

Sister, I never stood on your fingers.

Sally Bacchetta 2005