Politics Blog

A Poem About Racism

She Reads The Sun

What you meant
Was evident
I understood
You hoped I wouldn’t
But I did
I heard you
Your messed up viewpoint

Your pink cheeks now
Revealing your embarrassment
For your careless words
& the fact they were heard
By someone who could take offence
“Am I a srcounger too, then”

But apparently Im different
Cos I was born here
My skin barely tarnished
With the varnish
Of a non-white race
It seems I’m ok,
I’m not really one of them

That was her excuse
For words so obtuse
A tounge so loose
That she could round up
Every resident of colour
Not born in the uk
And say
That they
That All of “they”
Were not wanted here

Her prejudice & fear
Was as clear
As a window cleaned with Mr Muscle power
And yet as misguided as a British missile,
headed to Afghanistan.
She reads The Sun
She believes that every Muslim is in the Taliban
And every African is here on a scam
To rob the British people,
of their hard earned money.
..It could be funny
If it were not so shocking
That a young educated woman
Could be so misinformed

And now I have a choice
How do I use my voice
In this situation

I realise nothing I say
Can change the way
She thinks
The brainwashing didn’t happen in a day
It happened over every conversation down the nags head
Through each sensationalised story she’d read
In the right wing tabloids

Each mutter of her mother
When in line behind “one of them”
in the post office
And her brothers tale of how he can’t get a job
Cos they’d all been robbed
By the “blacks” down the street
But there’s no blacks down the street
Because he lives in Thornley and there’s no blacks in Thornley
(I don’t think)

I’m so angry I can’t speak
But I know I need to say something

After she finishes apologising
And declaring she’s not racist
And that it’s just “the immigrants ” That she meant
I bite my tongue
And then my thumb
This can’t go on
But I know this battle can’t be won
Not now
Not sat over a chai late in Starbucks
So after a silence much,
more uncomfortable than the day
I forgot my lines in my primary school play
I eventually Say
The words

“It’s ok”

It’s ok..
I say nothing that will give away
how I feel
No words to share the tornado of emotion
The stake in the chest notion
That I’d felt so many times before
I say nothing.
I look down at my feet.
And eventually
I ask her …

Can I get you another tea
And I walk away turning my cheek

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