SITTING WHITE LEAVING AMERICA or NEXT STOP HAITI

sitting feeling white
SITTING WHITE LEAVING AMERICA or NEXT STOP HAITI
There are no signs that say
this side for Blacks
or
this side for Whites.
But every year I’m reminded of my Americanisms as I walk toward the last corner of the airport before my last plane to Haiti.
I write in my journal,
“ah yes, now I remember,
just being old enough to have
danced for Jim Crow,
I inhale my ancestors on
the licorice side of the airport
the Black side
I exhale my ancestors on
the mint julep side of the airport
the White side
inhale
Flight Haiti
exhale
Flight America”
Why does this segregation AUTOMATICALLY happen?
The
maverick-rabble-rouser-john wayne-martin-luther-king-michelle-obama-oprah winfrey-rosa parks
in me
wants to go plop my dark behind right in the middle
of the
confectioner sugar side of the settlement.
But I
weigh the expenditure of the battle
against the cost of the war.
So I sit in the darkness of my pigmentation
“feeling white”
amongst the beautiful rows of
“just trying to get home”
Haitians.


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