I spoke of this in my classroom today,
it didn’t make sense,
I still haven’t figured out a way,
to not seem utterly dense.
I’m a White man trying to be understanding,
yet every time I try
I end up again, landing
square upon my own ignorance and cry.
I’m a White man rocked with privilege,
and I still manage to find a way
to put myself out on a ledge,
bringing attention to my own self-righteous dismay.
It’s Black History Month,
a friend of mine posted this recently
suggested it is the shortest month
of the year, well he said it decently.
I have felt a lot of pause, trying to find the right word,
not to sound correct, but to clearly feel ok.