I Am That / Cristoforo Colombo (April 2018)

Those boys approach things as you do, and you like it. But it causes ya to grin to see yourself socialized as such, no? To recognize how boys gather a handful of knowledge preemptively, curiously turn it over, and then present it with a slight twist, “I own this now, but I will offer it to you,” or because we are ‘nice boys,’ “Hey, is it ok if I claim I found this? I’ll share (because I am sure you’ll give me credit.)” Oh boy, wow…, are you being too cynical or is this an attempt to recognize complexity again and apply an honest frame? Testing a statement to check it’s fit?  -I am that.

      And white girls, with that working-class bravado, that bluntness, who mumble things with their faces down; then get wide eyed and in frustration share: inspirational in their honesty and willingness to just claim the place where they are that day. I love that. People who can say what’s on their mind. Bringing up the elephant parts as if they were just discovered, we’re all so Columbian after all. That little wrinkle of our socialization, that little acknowledgment that our proclaimed values may be different than our actions, that implicit bias showing, even as we proclaim ourselves wide eyed and knowing. -I am that.

      And of the fair youths, sweet and lost. Wow, those are beautiful beads. Blinking too much, exposed anew. Look away. Don’t look away. Palms sweaty, stomach in knots. If I don’t do it they’ll think I am a coward. Looking bored, looking tired. I don’t want to feel this guilty. Head down, mumbled speech. Just don’t say anything stupid, be part of the group. Follow the orders, follow the leader (lol)  -I am that.

      And the anxious advocates amongst us, so used to being righteous that we end up stumbling, ever tongue tied, forced speech, from the heart, from the gut, from the ache in your back ribs, continue to speak past the point you were making, clutter it up, lose their interest, worry you’ve muddled it, close your chapped lips, replay the moment, play it again, play back the entirety of your life, oh! that shameful loop, heart knotted, analyze and blame yourself, question with your clenched throat, breathe and cough, and cough and choke, try again, that eternal loop, from the gut, mind still askew, but find it there again and cling, sooth yourself with that salve of truth, that’s how you’ll know you’re still alive, and I, -am that.