Kennt jemand englische Gedichte über ethnische Vielfalt (ethnic diversity) ?

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Das war das beste, das ich finden konnte:

What Does Cultural Diversity Mean to Me?
by Poetic Philosophy

Journal Entry: What Does Cultural Diversity Mean to Me?
I stopped looking into myself for answers
when as I grew older
my questions still yielded more confusion
“Who Am I?”
A simple three-word question
but yet when you look at brown skin with a yellow tint
and check a box marked Black
slash
African-American or descent
it is larger than life

You depend on others to tell you your history
If your elder generation has committed themselves to reenergizing the earth
before you are old enough to ask that question
you can find yourself lost
taking directions from those in authority

I was told in school
during the administration of a CAT test
which box to check by teachers at the age of five
After MAT and MEAP tests,
sitting at the table with a white supremacist
who after talking guns with an eight year old stated,
“I never met such smart Negroes,”
being called a “Nigger” by skinheads,
and my mother’s stories
of how my great-grandfather was a Native American
who changed his last name to hide his ethnicity…
I asked my mom,
“If I’m Native American too,
which box do I check?”
She turned to me,
“Baby, check what you feel.”

When the next school board test came to check my intelligent quotient
my pen hesitated
I heard the taunts of my peers to another girl in my head
She was a dark brown with short nappy hair
and told everybody she was half Indian
I remembered the look on her face
as they laughed maliciously
My pen found its course and checked the box marked “Black”
and moved to prove that more than mere quibble filled my mind

Now, I’m grown by all stipulations of this society
But I’m still that little girl
with the same question
“Who Am I?”
I envy my cousins
who’s Arab father can give them a culture
where my father was absent
and void of any knowledge before his generation

I work within my own racial group
adopting bits of different cultures
I enjoy Thanksgivings
gathered around the table with
Puerto Rican friends,
Caucasian god-family from a racist family,
Arab-Muslim Americans,
Vegetarian-non-denominationalists,
Christians,
Mandinkas,
and my daughter with an Ivorian father
I laugh at how the smelting pot
can be shown around that very table

I can speak bits of French, Mandinka, Arabic, and Italian
curse in a couple more
I assimilate when needed
but I always come back to my own
I fight to educate our youth to discover themselves
and answer that short question through self-development
I want to contribute to this diverse society
but it seems we are segregated into different venues
so the first thing
I notice when I walk in a room is
how many black people there are
When I work with a Caucasian person
I wonder if they think we are still called Negroes
I pray that the images of hatred
birthed from ignorance
is not the image God has made us in
And for my daughter I
I say another prayer:
Lord, let her father give her a culture and direction
guide people into seeing the beauty in her dark skin
and accepting or hating her for herself only
Amen.
By: Poetic Philosophy (Rainbow)


Ich hoffe ich konnte dir damit weiterhelfen :)
Julia...Mehr anzeigen