I Am A Black Man

I am a black man.
And I am loud.
Loud enough so that the voice of my people might speak through me.
Loud enough to drown out all of the haters and nay sayers of my culture.
Loud enough so that I might be heard over the gangsters and the cops, the gunshots you hear on the block that keep many of us awake at night thinking what if that was me? Me, lying on the cold, hard ground armed with nothing but the color of my skin. I speak to separate myself from those who behave as if they don't know how to. Those who speak as if they are allergic to a properly structured sentence. Those who speak with words filled with hate and violence. I am loud. So that I might be heard over the rap music that has glorified drugs and murder. We are so much more than that. We are an outspoken people that have far more to say than we have been given credit for.

I am a black man.
And I do have a gun.
I have a gun loaded with bullets of knowledge and wisdom so that I may rob those who look down on me of their ignorance. So that I might do drive-bys in the hood and shoot up the thugs and drug dealers with the revelation that there is far more to life then being about that life. So that I may educate our youth about what being black means and doesn't mean. One bullet at a time. They'll learn that it doesn't mean that we're violent even if that's all they see. They'll learn that the majority of us are not ghetto despite what is portrayed on tv. They'll learn that knowledge is power, something they should treat with the greatest care and
they'll learn that our minds are our weapons and that they should be loading theirs.

I am a black man.
And I do have dark skin. Skin that has taken the meaning of wrong place and wrong time and made it apply to everywhere. Skin that statistically lowers our chances of success no matter what we try to do. Skin that forces us to forever try to outrun those same cruel numbers. We are tired of being treated differently. We are tired of being singled out. We are tired of the Trayvon Martins and the Michael Browns, innocent kids, killed by those who fail to see the shining lights of our souls behind our complexion. Most of all we are tired of living in a world that tries to make us ashamed of the color of our skin. We are not ashamed of the color of our skin! We are triumphant in its beauty! We are victorious in the strength it stands for! We are glorious in the eyes of the lord as his creations! Exactly as he intended us to be and every bit as perfect as the rest.

Yes, I am a black man
And I am proud of it