Bravo and Bravo again! ❤️
Now I was eight and very small,
And he was no whit bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue, and called me, “Nigger.”
“Incident,” Countee Cullen
Earlier in the summer of 2017 during the controversy over Bill Maher’s use of a racial slur, I wrote a poem  that confronts the slur but also ends with an image that haunts me in the wake of Charlottesville and Barcelona.
The tyranny of the threat of being run over rests now in my bones after having been run over with a group of cyclists just 8 months ago.
But I have no direct personal understanding of what James Baldwin confronts about race in the U.S.: “To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time. ” 
Along with the pervasive threat of physical violence and death…
View original post 494 more words