GIRL TALK NO 22
(why I won’t be at that march)
now is not the time
to be divisive
she tsk-tsked from her mountaintop
of white privilege and
self-righteousness
now is the time to
come together as women
and just like all the other times
a white woman
tried to put me in my place
and make me be quiet
because only white women
know what is good for all women
they decide
when we speak and
when we are heard
I thought to myself:
there is no seat at the table of
mainstream feminism
for women like me
brown bold
brown strong
brown outspoken
there is no space carved out
for my double-tiered reality of
gender and race
only
this
time
was different
because
this
time
I didn’t want a seat at
the white woman’s table of
feminism with a capital f
with her tone-policing and
insatiable need for
self-aggrandizement
her me-first-me-only attitude
at the expense of
my ideas beliefs reality
I’m making my own table
it’s long and wide with room aplenty
I’ve invited everyone over and
told them to bring their own chair
because I love the different and unique
and celebrating it and listening to it and
understanding it
is hardly subscribing to divisiveness
no matter what the white woman thinks
I’ll even invite her to grab a chair and
join us
despite the fact
she never wanted me around
and is happiest when I’m silent
because at my table
every voice deserves to be heard
our differences are worth reveling in
our diversity evokes power
at my table
sisterhood happens
at my table
we are magic
For a few weeks now, I’ve wanted to comment on the election and feminism and my reaction and feelings towards others – particularly white folks, and especially white women, who voted in droves for Trump, a fact this brown woman will never be able to wrap her head around, no matter how many times she tries. I often consider taking to this space, but am too angry and disgusted and really, the thoughts bumping around in my brain these days as I walk through this new reality should probably stay right there and fester.
But a few friends have encouraged me to speak out and speak up and share my anger and hurt and bewilderment, in my words rather than those of others whose posts and tweets I’ve shared and promoted. So of course, it came to me in a poem, mostly because everything these days that feels right and rhythmic and good for my soul comes to me in the form of a poem.
And yes, I will not be marching on Washington in January and no, you will not convince me otherwise. [Women’s rights activist Brittany T. Oliver puts down on paper with eloquence and brutal truth pretty much every single thought I’ve had about that march and feminism in general these past few weeks – check out her words HERE.] But I will continue fighting for women and people of color to be heard and respected and acknowledged as equals in other ways, ways that are more inclusive and intersectional. And for real, the next time you think about putting on your tone-police badge and shushing a friend or a colleague or a stranger, get over yourself and instead, pause, reflect, and RECONSIDER THAT SHIT.
Madhuri Writes Things 