How Dare You Disrespect Your Mother
This woman held me in her womb,
went through agonizing labor
just so I could take my first breath.
Then every breath
after dedicated her whole existence
into manipulating our environment to better
To disrespect what my mother
was to disrespect myself.
So why do we dismiss our mother Africa?
We straighten the hair our mother
made curl, and when we do
we uncurl her secrets and lessons,
let them burn onto the iron.
When we roll on spanx
to suck in our curves, we forget
what our mother made
a woman’s body to be.
To disrespect what our mother
is to disrespect ourselves.
Rap is what we have left
of our ancient ways of storytelling.
Balling up southern
dumplings to dip in stew
was all they had to make fofo.
Twisting our hair at night
all that we were meant to be.