Word

Word.Speak
Picture of a crumpled handwritten letter from a Madison teen.

 

Writing is an extremely personal way to share your story. Working with creative writing partners like the, Rob Dz,  JVN Projectand others, Madison teenagers tell it like it is.

It's a Struggle to be Black

Braniya

It’s a struggle to be black.

2015, at war. Just yesterday we was talkin’ ‘bout blacks an’ whites.

It’s a struggle to be black.

Having to wake up every morning worryin’ about what’s gonna happen. Having to be a color and get picked on about it. Having to speak your mind and worryin’ about who’s gonna care or not. Scared to walk outside ‘cause you think you gonna get shot or arrested.

It’s a struggle to be black, and white people don’t understand, we struggle with our skin color.

It’s a struggle to be black.

If a white person was to shoot at us and we shoot back, we get the tickets, we get in trouble, and we get the sentence. The police is at it again and they’re killin’ the innocents.

It’s a struggle to be black.

In the United States of America, blacks are the top rank you hear about every day. We are tryin’ to make peace, we get nothing. We’re doin’ all this negative stuff, you see us on the news, Facebook, and all this other stuff.

It’s a struggle to be black.

Having to go to a all-white school and have to sit in class and talk about back in the days when we were slaves. How the white people look at you.

It’s a struggle to be black, but how we gonna change if we don’t try? It’s like we always feel like a target. I know it’s my skin color, what do you call it?

It’s a struggle to be black. It makes me feel uncomfortable.

It’s a struggle to be black. We scream for justice and we get nothing. I need answers. Every day we struggle, cry, and beg for forgiveness and ax God “why us?” but we still are left with no answer. We beg for our freedom. And what people don’t understand is the police is nothing without that badge and that gun. They are no different from us, and we are at it again and again. We beg for justice and still get nothing. They bleed like we bleed, so why in the world do they think they’re better than us? Bodies drop but we don’ know why.

It’s a struggle to be black.

Having to walk down the street and getting called names. Nigga this, nigga that, thug this, thug that. But we still get no answers. Why every chance they get they kill us when they feel uncomfortable? In The United States of America, we need answers of why it is a struggle to be black. In 2015, white and black are at it again, but why? Why is it a struggle to be black? It’s like a black on black crime, but only blacks understand how it feel to be treated like that.

It’s a struggle to be black.

August 28, 1963. Many people joined the MLK speech. “I have a dream, that one day the nation will rise up and live out to its true meaning of its creed, statements, and beliefs. We hold the truths as self-evident – that people are all created the same.”

It’s a struggle to be black.

Killin’ blacks aren’t the answer. Establish fact before propaganda. These regular people have regular lives. Badges should come with a body camera. Why every chance they get they feel the need to feel us when they feel uncomfortable? This is some bullshit, and it’s dysfunctional.

Why do we feel like a target? I know it’s my skin color, what would you call it?

It’s a struggle to be black. Only blacks understand.

 

Chicago Dome

I'm in a zone boy,
and I got that chrome boy.
I get A's and B's homie,
straight up out the dome boy.
I got a tremendous brain,
I use words like comprehension,
not to mention the same thing,
when I speak my slang.
Change of the game,
bringing fame to my name.
Maxing my potential,
by expanding my brain.
Exchanging the truth,
while buildin' with my fellow youth.
Yeah son its true,
I reign from the drive I don't waste time.
Strivin' to stay alive,
beamin' like the sun on the day.
Lettin my light shine,
and avoiding the shady.
Yeah its true, you feel me,
but guess what I don't let it fade me.
Keepin' my eyes on the prize,
its best that you recognize.

Dear Drugs

You took that one little girl and turned her into
something she is not. You took away my innocence 
and all of my relationships with my family, made
me care about being in a haze more than
what was actually going on that day. You drained
the life from me and left me with nothing
but yourself. You made me feel like you were the
only thing out there and blinded me of what
I actually have. You made me do unthinkable
things and left me for dead. I'm moving on
without you, you did nothing but hurt me.
Goodbye old friend you won't be here till the
end.

 

Dear Mom

Dear Mom, how loving you are
the unconditional love that you give
to me. The warm hugs
and the wet kisses. You and
me some things can be
grizzly bears and screaming and
yelling at each other like
we despise each other sometimes
we can be the best of
friends.

Home

As I wake up in the morning to
cries and the laughter of my
loving bady mother in the kitchen
water whipping up the pancakes
my sister on her phone talking loud
just don't give a blank need a
break in the back in the AM
with uncle tank as we spit flows
and blowing smoke just to get my
mind straigh sometimes I feel
like it can be a better day but
I miss my daughter my girlfriend
and my mother
as she whip it up
like ani-may T.V. Blasting readio
blasting loud that’s gasing love
it’s in the air sometimes I wish
that the love was still there.

Untitled

My momma’s crib feels like, home, love, happiness, freedom potentual its smells like chicken, greens, cornbread, smash potatoes fish, porkchops, It reminds me of thankgiving when I sit with my brothers and sisters and eat It reminds me of Christmas when I ran to open up my presents it reminds me of the summer’s when we throw parties and the house is blasting with music and when we BBQ

Mom

I can’t believe shes being ripped out of
my house again, and there is absolutely
nothing I can do. Did I fail as a parent?
Why is this happening to me again? When is
all of this going to stop. I still can't believe
how far everything went. Did I do something
I shouldn't have? Or is there something else
I could have done? I'm so sick of
feeling broken.

Dear Spiders

Dear, spiders how ugly and Nasty
you are how Big and small
8 legged freak I want to stomp
all over you intil every Spider
is killed intil you are wiped
of the planet of Earth. Sitting
on your weB sucking the life
out of what ever land’s
in you web well let
me tell you something when
you get to the ground you
will Be on my shoe
crushed. So intil then
you better stay in that 
web of your's.