A Hill Worth Dying On

[Poem: Micah Bournes & Beth May]
Before I left for college, my mom told me
Study hard
Read ya Bible
Don’t get pregnant
Don’t you bring home no White girl…
W-what?
She was joking
Of course she was joking
It’s not like moms is racist or nothin’

Before I left for college my dad told me
Don’t fall in love with anyone you’re ashamed to introduce to your parents
I remember my dad sinking into the couch to watch local news
He said
“Black Lives Matter is a terrorist organization”

What?
He said he was joking
Was he joking?

Don’t fall in love with anyone you’re ashamed to introduce to your parents

The freedom to fall in love with whoever I fall in love with would be nice
But every time I’m attracted to a light-skinned woman
I have to check my self-hatred
Would I fall for a darker version of her too?
Light complexion is not a virtue
Should not be a plus

Every time I’m attracted to a man with dark skin
I have to check my self hatred
Do I have a fetish? Because I do want to touch his hair
My skin feels like a ghost under the sheets my ancestors wore

Then one of my Black homies said
“bruh, if you keep talkin’ all this pro-Black stuff
And marry a White girl, you lose all credibility ”

Then one of my White friends said
“girl, you could never love a Black man while your understanding of Blackness is just a hypothesis.”

And I knew they were wrong
And I knew they were right

But love is a hill worth dying on
And If I date a White woman
She needs to understand
I will never lecture Black women for feeling abandoned
For hoping someone outside of themselves would love them
For expecting those someones to be the sons they gave life
And if my White girlfriend can’t tell the difference between
My heartbroken mother and her racist father
She was never gonna last anyway
She was bound to leave when she realized my penis wasn’t any bigger
And her fantasies were just that
If you wanna date Black don’t expect applause

But love is a hill worth dying on
I know an interracial relationship is not going to cure racism
Not even internally
I’m screaming Black is beautiful
I’m really just screaming I’m not racist
Just so everyone knows
I’m not racist
I’m not racist
BUT
What if I am?
What if I don’t say the right thing?
What if I actually say the wrong thing?
Because it’s tradition to say I don’t, but I do see color
And I’m trying to see it better
If I fall in love with a Black guy I hope he understands
I’m trying

Because it’s love that makes me want to understand our differences, not erase them

But I forgot this isn’t a love poem

This isn’t a love poem
This is all hypothetical
Love is a hill worth dying on
But there’s a gap between theory and practice

I might chicken out
I might accidently-on-purpose stop holdin’ your hand in a room full of Blackness
I might not introduce you to my parents... not now, not yet

I might let racism and its effects keep me from loving you right
But I could never be ashamed of you
I’ll be ashamed of myself