Updated: Aug 24, 2023
By LaRita Dixon
/ Poetry /
I remember the day I discovered that I was a black woman
I had looked into mirrors all my life
And I had seen my skin
But I didn’t know that it came with such infamy
What a name; to be “black” in any society
To hear the brutes cry “liberty and justice for all”
But knowing that “all” didn’t mean you
To know you were a luxury
A delicacy
Something to be worshipped
But only behind closed doors
To be ridiculed
And yet in the light of day
They only ask for more
I remember the day I discovered that I was a black woman
I wasn’t even a woman yet
Just a girl in a restless world
On a morning I won’t forget
The kings came bounding into the room
Deciding whom they would choose
Calling the fair hair’s and alabaster skin’s their queens
They chose everyone but me
I was too much of something
Too little of something else
It seemed I had forgotten
To despise certain things about myself
But despite the day that I remember
A moment I will never forget
There’s not a day in my history
That this skin is something I regret
Black and bold
In perfect harmony
I remember the day I discovered that I was a black woman
And on that day I could’ve chosen to be done
But with this rich and glorious skin of mine
It would seem that I have won