My Privilege

I have never in my life been as ashamed of who I am right now.

Ashamed of the privilege I was born with.

I live in castles and extravagant gardens,

compared to some of my classmates,

who live in terrible conditions compared to me.

I see the blue of my veins through the white of my skin.

The red of my blood rarely leaks from the hatred of others.

There used to be stars in my eyes.

But now, they are huge fireballs

Words have a lot more meaning than some actions.

You cannot hear me,

but I assure you,

I am using these words to scream.

I have never been more ashamed of the rights I have.

It’s a luxury to have this computer,

though I can’t help but cry and complain that you cannot hear me.

I can imagine the voice of Emily, who down the street, works weekends.

But she doesn’t need the money.

She has everything she wants but still wants more.

As the money sits in that bank account and collects dust.

I can imagine the southern voice of Aaliyah, who, on the opposite side of the street,

works day and night.

Just to provide for her family.

She has everything she needs, but nothing she wants.

As her bank account sits empty, with no hope as to ever be filled.

Actors and Actresses know how to make those words count. 

Word count: 234

And I hope to make these words count.

I hope that they are stuck in your mind, not with fire

Because at this point, fire is not enough.

I hope that they are BRANDED with rage and disgust!

At the HORRORS our fellow Black American’s face

And so I scream.

“I have never before have been so ashamed of my privilege”

Because I don’t know what else to do.

I can’t sit here and write civilly.

I can only write in pure, unhandled rage and depression.

As I try to scream with the voice that is used to sing,

to read poetry,

and to read and fight in debates.

Or is too loud, or too quiet. No in-between.

People’s voices are screaming right now.

And we must hear them

The biggest civil rights movement

Black Lives Matter

People respond with, “All lives matter”

But for that, I can’t help but hate you.

Of course All Lives Matter

But until Black ones do,

All lives don’t matter.

Because Black lives are the ones who need to fight right now.

To fight for their right.

For their lives.

For everything they have.

I do not need to fight.

But I choose to.

I am no white savior like John Fairfield.

Or a black one like Harriet Tubman.

I am no warrior.

I am no dragon.

I am a writer.

And with this pen, who is mightier than the sword.

I scream.

I am only 15 years old.

A sophomore in high school.

And I have never before had my eyes open.

Had never been more ashamed of my privilege.

I never realized that this is no longer a battle.

This is a war.

A war that our fellow black friends need to win.

A war that I want to help fight in.

I have never been more ashamed of my privilege.

This statement means nothing anymore at this point.

But who cares.

Because I wait for the day that “Black Lives Matter.”

Becomes redundant.

Because of course, they do matter.

And sadly, this statement is not redundant.

It falls as necessary.

 Necessary to scream, “Black Lives Matter!”

There are people who are repressed.

And we need to hear them.

SEE THEM!

All you need to do is LISTEN!

We need to push together that gap and bring us together!

Listen to them!

I have never been more ashamed of my privilege.

But with this privilege,

I can make people listen.

I can use this privilege for good.

And with that, I scream.

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