Sticks and Stones, and Yes, Words Too

Apr
2007
09

posted by on Parenting, Race "Matters"

Last week, the Rutgers University Women’s Basketball team played the University of Tennessee in the NCAA championship. If you haven’t heard, nationally syndicated radio host Don Imus and executive producer Bernard McGuirk (and others), commenting on the Rutgers women’s basketball team on his show “Imus in the Morning” said the following, in part (click here at MediaMatters.org for a detailed account and video of the incident):

IMUS: That’s some rough girls from Rutgers. Man, they got tattoos and –

McGUIRK: Some hard-core hos.

IMUS: That’s some nappy-headed hos there. I’m gonna tell you that now, man, that’s some — woo. And the girls from Tennessee, they all look cute, you know, so, like — kinda like — I don’t know.

McGUIRK: A Spike Lee thing.

…ROSENBERG: It was a tough watch. The more I look at Rutgers, they look exactly like the Toronto Raptors.

Many people have commented on Imus’ remarks, calling for his resignation. It was racist and sadly, FCC-supported. While I support the move calling for his resignation, I did not write this post with that intent. This post is a call for people in this country to think a bit more critically to understand that contrary to the popular children’s rhyme, sticks and stones hurt, and words hurt as well.

I was styling my daughter’s hair this morning as I listened to a Black radio talk show host addressing Imus’ racially-charged criticism of women he hadn’t met and didn’t know. My daughter is beautiful, intelligent, a great person, a superstar, as my husband, Manchild, says, “destined to achieve greatness,” and a gorgeous three-year old Black girl with very curly, beautiful hair. We constantly affirm her in who she knowing she will encounter ignorant remarks such as those Don Imus and his cohorts so insensitively made. I grew up in the Midwest/North, yet, racism was and is still alive and well. And being called out of your name, while knowing inherently the filth directed toward you isn’t the truth, it still penetrates, it still hurts. So when (notice I said “when,” not “if”) our daughter hears racial slurs spewed across the airwaves or in her face, she will know the truth. I pray it will not penetrate her soul. I pray we will impart so much of how much we love and esteem her and how gloriously God views her that her spirit will not be damaged.

Unfortunately, the damage has already been done to some. During the Michael Baisden show (a nationally-syndicated Black radio talk show airing weekday afternoons), a young Black girl called and expressed her views about Imus’ epithets in the form of a powerful poem. She read the poem with such passion that it’s difficult to really hear the pain and anger in her voice as she read it over the air. Michael Baisden posted the poem on his forum at MingleCity.com. I offer the poem here as well.

Violent
By Yvonne Espinoza

We’re violent because this is all we know
You taught us this along time ago
We’re violent because you made us this way
You beat us naked, you hung our people,
Raped our kids and stripped us of our pride
And you now wanna ask why?
Give us a reason not to be
You can’t, it’s impossible

Because to give us a reason, you’d have to right all the wrong you’ve done
But you can’t and if you could then
You’ve only just begun
You’d have to beg for mercy, plead and cry
You’d have to feel the pain we felt
The pain that took lives

You go through the hardships,
The trials and tribulations,
The suffering, the heartache, the dying babies
You sit on a boat full of hundreds of sick,
Old people living to die
How about you dance to make money
Look ignorant on t.v.
Go to jail for nothing
Harassed because others don’t like what they see

Have your people get beat to death
By those who get paid to protect
You eat trash to survive
How about you watch your people and babies die
Get sold for a dime
Kill themselves because they don’t want to live this life

We went through it then and we go through it now
And you know it’s true, and you still ask why?
How dare you have the audacity
Who made you king?

Despite common belief and despite what you think
There is only one king, one God
And he walks with me, with us
The ones who were forced to live in grief
Who were cut, killed, raped and beat
Like animals, brainwashed to think like you

You hacked away, pulled and dragged us down
Until we didn’t want to be Black or Brown
We didn’t want to be Colored or Negroes
We wanted to be High, Suddity, White Folk
We though if we looked, smelled, and act like you
We could live a regular life, and though we tried
You still continued to beat and lay us out
To hang us from our necks, to laugh at our bodies

You could never blame us for being this way
Because you taught us violence
So how dare you think of forming any kind of alliance
Now we know that two wrongs don’t make a right
But since we have none,
Why should we spare your life?

It’s your fault for all of this
And if you didn’t teach us violence
Then who did?
It couldn’t have been us
Because, remember, we’re ignorant!

You should be careful what you say
Because your words have power
Say it enough and it’ll come true…
I know you’ve heard of karma
God have mercy on you.

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