Kool-Aid Sugar

One day, I was on the phone

with my Mexican friend

and he says

"How many tablespoons of sugar

do you put in your Kool-Aid?"

"What? Tablespoons?

It depends on how much you make, i guess.

But you just do it to taste,"

I replied confused.

"Nope. Not good enough," he said.

"I got your black card..."

My black card?

What do you mean...?

How do you have my black card?

You're not even black!

But even if you were,

what gives you the right

to take my blackness away from me?

You're telling me

I have to be a specific thing

just to be black,

just to be worthy

of the skin i'm inside?

Like you're more black than me?

I wear the skin, I'm black,

but I'm just not black enough.

Like it isn't my identity.

I never hear anyone talking about

a white card or an Asian card

or a Hispanic card.

No. It's just black people.

Because if I don't make my Kool-Aid

taste like diabetes,

and talk loud,

and wear weave,

and listen to rap,

and love fried chicken

I'm not black.

Because being black is only one thing.

It's being black before being anything else,

but having others being able to take

even that away from you.

But now that my black card is gone,

I wonder if the racist cop that pulls me over

will recognize that.

I wonder if he will see me any different.

"Hello officer, I had my black card taken,

so you don't have to worry about me."

Maybe now that my black card is gone,

I won't have to worry about men

not being attracted to me

just because I'm too dark

and because my hair

isn't long and silky.

I wonder if now I won't have to worry

about being criticized

about my hair and feeling like a boy

because it's "too short" or "too nappy."

Well, maybe now

I won't have to feel alone

when I'm the only black person in a room.

And now I won't even have to worry

about looking like the "angry black woman" either cause, guess what?

My black card is gone anyways

and being black just means

how much sugar I put in my Kool-Aid.

I wonder how much sugar Ada B. Wells

put into her Kool-Aid.

Or Fredrick Douglass.

Or Harriet Tubman.

Or Breonna Taylor.

Or Trayvon Martin.

Did they count tablespoons

or did they just grab the bag

of sugar then pour and watch

the sweet white crystals

fall in freely?

Making their Kool-Aid extra sweet

since that's what it takes to be black.

So, I think I just need more Kool-Aid sugar...

Maybe then I can be black again.