Remember
by Kristi B. Merriweather
 
Out of Motherland Africa1, ripped from my people into the iron-heavy chains, stifling my motions, I look at the sea, the dark threatening waters awaiting to carry us on an endless, wicked journey, I heard my weeping mother yell to me, "Remember."
Out of slavery, Lord knows the scars and horrors of my hands, body, mind, & soul been through I've forgotten my language, my home, my hopes, my culture or even where my family are. Yet, as I watch my people heading for the cities of the North or the farms of the South, no money, no food, no clear guidance. Somewhere I heard my mother whisper to me, "Remember."
Out of Jim Crow2, with all its burning crosses and burnt promises, facing the stony faces of those that wear the badge of law and order, holding the nightsticks that have senselessly beat thousands of my people while we sang "We shall overcome"3 and trying to keep believing that. Raise your Black Power fist Say Right on, Black is beautiful.4 Don't know why my head is hurting, some kind of image is trying to fight its way into it, It's screaming my mother's voice and eyes saying, "Remember."
Out of the burning riots of LA,5 Through the red smoke of anger finally unleashed, I stand motionless to see the images finally flashing before my eyes, The drug dealers gaining control, the bullets flying toward our people by our own brothers, the punch of the rap lyrics attacking the dignity of sisters,6 poverty, unwanted pregnancies, AIDS,7 clarence and anita8 Suddenly, I saw the image of my mother Signing to me, "Remember."
Out of the cosmos,9 Out of Africa, Stationed here in America, The Black Deaf Woman, challenging and transforming systems shattering restricting definitions until she becomes in-defin-able, timeless, progressive, creative, and unstoppable.
Don't you remember?
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