I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.
Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—
I, too, am America.
*Langston Hughes, and perfection. It’s Black History month and I am once again struggling to find the right words for my February progressive opinion column, which was due Monday. I had it narrowed down to two versions, both celebrating – or at least marking – the 50th anniversary of BHM. One is rather incendiary, the other more sedate. Both are good. It’s astonishing how much time it takes for me to write a mere 800 words on a given subject – I confess I even had a third non-BHM column I’ve been working on for weeks – because, to me at least, it matters. I don’t know that I am changing hearts and minds, or even making anyone think, but hell if I ain’t gonna try!! If you wonder which one I sent in, well, then, you’re gonna have to wait. Patience is a virtue, y’all!