Little Bit of Me for You






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Hey! Just thought I’d share a little of myself to complete strangers, because why not? Lol

Little intro: My name is Maya, I’m 22 years old and I’ve grown up born and raised in SF, CA. (Westside) aha I love to hangout with my homies out here in the bay, wherever we end up. Everyday is a new adventure with my homeskillets. Anyways this is forreal some of my story, I was adopted and raised by my two white moms, yes, they’re lesbians lol. This is a very modern family, and I live a pretty modern lifestyle in the city. So don’t judge me too harshly, although I do know the internet is a risky place to put my own life on blast like this. But love and peace please, and you’ll get nothin but 100 from me & respect if you keep it clean.

I talked a little bit of how this poem came to be, but the main part of my story, that I hope you’ll understand was just how taken back I was that I felt discriminated against in my own house. Not that my mom ever intended it to come off that way, but what she said to me in my own kitchen was to “stop with all this nigga stuff.” And right then and there I threw down whatever I was working on and wrote it out instead of blowin up in her face, cause it was honestly upsetting.

Don’t feel bad for me though, this is my world. It’s true SF has become somewhat of a yuppy place these days loosing true natives to some but not all white techs from SoCal…however, they treat me different because of how I look, “just some Latina with some Js on”, but who are they to judge me and where I came from. And I have to say at the end of the day my moms always have my back no matter what. We have a lot of shit to work out but hey, so do many of y’alls families too. lol This is life.

Music:
Ginuwine- In Those Jeans
Beyonce (ft. Frank Ocean)- Superpower
Rihanna- What Now

If you feel like following:
Instagram: _ayammaya_

***IF YOU’RE GOING TO READ ANYTHING READ THIS:***
I REALLY DON’T WANT ANYBODY TO THINK, EVEN THOUGH OF COURSE I CAN’T PLEASE EVERYBODY, THAT I’M TRYING TO OFFEND ANY RACE IN THIS CLIP. I’M SPEAKING FROM MY OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCE AND YOU SHOULDN’T BASE YOUR OPINIONS OFF MY OWN.

Poem:
Skip to: 2:38

AND SHE SAID IT. “STOP WITH ALL THIS NIGGA STUFF.”

LIKE IT MADE HER UNCOMFORTABLE AND SHIT.

LIKE IT WAS WRONG OR DISCRIMINATING.

LIKE IT WAS A SWEAR WORD, NEVER A TERM OF ENDEARMENT.

“MY NIGGA.” IS WHAT I CALL MY BROTHER. A YOUNG BLACK MAN I RESPECT LOVE, AND CARE FOR.

“MY NIGGA.” IS WHAT I CALL MY BEST FRIEND. A WHITE LESBIAN WHO I RESPECT AND CARE FOR.

SO YOU TELL ME AGAIN…

TO MY FACE, WITH THOSE COLORS ERASED, TO “STOP WITH ALL THIS NIGGA STUFF.”

YOU SAID YOU UNDERSTAND BEING RAISED BY WHITE WHEN I’M BROWN IS HARD.

IT’S COMMENTS LIKE THAT, THAT MAKE ME STICK TO THE DARK.

MY OWN COLOR. MY OWN RACE.

SURE, THAT WORD MAY NOT LEAVE A SMILE ON YOUR FACE,

BUT DON’T TELL ME WHAT NOT TO SAY OR HOW NOT TO SAY IT.

BECAUSE A NIGGA TO SOMEBODY IS WHO I AM.

THEIR MAIN, THEIR RIDE OR DIE, THEIR HOMIE, LOVER OR FRIEND.

YES, THERE IS HISTORY OF THIS WORD ITS TRUE…

WAY BACK IN THE DAY, IT WAS MEANT FOR SLAVES,

BUT COMMENTS LIKE THAT IS WHAT KEEPS IT THAT WAY.

I UNDERSTAND THIS IS YOUR HOUSE, AND YOUR RULES,

BUT THIS WORD ISN’T JUST USED BY ME OR YOU.

YOU DON’T WANT ME TO SAY IT AROUND YOU I GET IT,

I RESPECT IT.

HOWEVER, ASKING ME NOT TO, IS OUT OF THE QUESTION.

…I LOVE YOU MA, INSIDE AND OUT.

AND YOU’RE RIGHT, YOU’RE NOT THEE WHITE, BUT JUST ONE.

YET, COMMENTS LIKE THAT MAKE ME THINK YOU’RE NOT ON MY SIDE,

LIKE YOU DON’T CARE WHAT COLOR I AM TO BE ABLE TO USE THAT WORD…

WHICH IS BROWN.

SAY IT THREE TIMES IN YOUR HEAD RIGHT NOW,
“NIGGA, NIGGA, NIGGA…”

MAYBE IT WONT BE SO SCARY OUT LOUD.

I WONT MAKE YOU SAY THIS WORD TO ME,

BUT ON THIS WORD, I’M QUESTIONING YOUR AUTHORITY.

AIN’T THE FIRST TIME, WON’T BE THE LAST,

BUT PLEASE…

TO KEEP YOU SHELTERED FROM MY BLASTS,

DON’T TELL ME TO SPEAK WITH GRACE,

YOU KNOW THAT SHIT SAILED HELLA FAR FROM THIS PLACE.

I LEARNED ENGLISH, THAT’S TRUE, I SAVE IT FOR ESSAYS, RESUMES, PUBLIC SPEAKING…

BUT NOT FOR YOU.

TRUST…YOU WANT THE REAL ME,

NOT SOME BULLSHIT-SUGAR-COATED-WHITE-CHOCOLATE-INSIDE-OUT-UH-OH-OREO ANYTHING.

EBONICS IS WHAT I SPIT OUT THESE DAYS…

AND A NIGGA IS A PERSON…

WHO CAME UP WITH SPEAKING THAT WAY.

SO LET ME KNOW WHERE YOU SETTLE ON THIS WORD.

I’D HONESTLY LIKE TO HEAR YOUR OPINION AND REALLY HAVE IT BE HEARD.

-M. Minnick June 2k15