The American Dream
By Delaney M., Montclair, NJ
(More by this author »)
There’s a girl somewhere sitting in front of a cheap, slow
public library computer
Striving to be the first in her family
College bound
Walking home in the dark
Alone
To a hungry family, a poor family, an angry family, a broken family
That’s not me
I’m a Catholic white girl
Average brown hair (with the best shampoo),
Average blue eyes (with the best mascara),
Average height,
Average weight,
An average athlete (with the best equipment),
An average student (with the best tutors)
I don’t have to bring home money
I study on occasion
I cheat and don’t get caught,
I steal and don’t get stopped,
I live a life where community service is an act
And summer programs have to prove something
Politicians, poets, rappers, proud of their struggle
Tell stories of discrimination, perseverance, challenge, strength,
Proud of their identity
Proud of the injustice they conquered
That’s not me
I was born in my identity
I was born where I sit in a J.Crew polo
In front of a plasma screen
In a well-lit, well-designed, freshly painted room
I never lived through any struggle,
Actually I sprained my ankle once
And the saddest day of my life
Was when I left summer camp
I have food, a home, an education, a family
I have a second cell phone, a second digital camera, a third iPod
I have money
But I hate it
I never had to prove myself to the world
I don’t deserve what I have
I don’t deserve who I am
I have nothing to live for
Nothing to fight for
Nothing to beat
I’m not living,
I’m dying the American Dream
|
