I am from stacks of family pictures kept neatly in old macaroon Kodak folders, from constant conversations about how the children are getting older

I am from “The House” with the constant aroma of delicious homemade meals, from my mother’s golden flaky biscuits and sharp senses making it impossible to steal

I am from a city of fallen dreams, loud but common screams and a city of many fears, of parents who have cried many tears, and a generation of children who were told “you’ll never make it out of here”

I am from soul food from crushed red pepper greens, sweet and buttery cornbread, crispy fried chicken, from savory mac n cheese and freshly squeezed lemonade all deliciously made

I am from itchy swollen eyes from helping in the yard from picking up leaves and pulling up stubborn summertime weeds

I am from fun summer cookouts with loud classic club songs busting through the speakers from getting in trouble for playing basketball in your new sneakers

From dollar bills under my pillow every time I lost a tooth from planning what I’m going to buy from the corner store every time one became loose

From the sounds of Pop Pop whistling and humming his favorite Billy Ocean song and me trying to whistle and being upset because it sounded all wrong

I am from Refuge of Hope Christian Church where the word of god is taught and testimonies are brought

I’m from the South where many of my family today still reside in big houses on big farms right by the countryside

I am from a family of kings and queens with morals where the children are taught to behave like royals

I am from the bloodlines of Sarah and Julius, Carrie and Praylo, Gloria and Moon, Bernice and Floyd 

And I, now, sing  MY diverse, melanated, revolutionary America where I am not completely aware of who I am
In my America we may be oppressed but we do what we can