That thing that is a thing

That really isn’t a thing

It’s real in a scholarly article or

In a library database

But the minute the word leaves my lips

To describe how I live

It’s fake


Unreasonable doubt



Too vulgar for your after-school special

But not enough for a therapy session

Because there’s no cure for oppression

There’s no medicine for this disease

Even though I have symptoms everyday

Symptoms that you may not ever even see

That no vaccination or inoculation could

Ever prevent

This is a diagnosis; this is a dose of reality

My pain, my wound, my infliction, my condition – it’s there

Trust me


Blind faith



Is when you don’t like someone for no reason —

Wait, there is a reason, but it remains to be unsaid

Even though it’s in your heart and

All up in your head

But you can hear it if

You’re really quiet and you really listen

To your bias and to your intuition

Microaggression by definition is

Subtle discrimination

Every day, threaded

The fabric of this nation


Sight seen and unseen



Is If I looked like you, I would have gotten the job that you do and

I really like your people, and

I just love their hair too

Can I touch it? I mean, is it okay with you? or

You’re my favorite friend of color, my brother

Who knows your truth better than me?



I find you in traveling lectures and

In fancy books by fancy smancy professors

But I see you more in the hallways

And in the mall

And at work and

At the bar and

On Facebook and

On the news

And in my neighborhood

And in my blues


Too close to home



But you go by another name:

The girl that sits next to me in class who

Covers her tests with her hands thinking

Her answers are the only reason I


Or the mother that grabs her child’s hand real tight

When I walk by at night

And in the daytime and

The co-worker who pretends to be my friend but

Soon as I turn my back, she’s criticizing me and the position

I don’t deserve to be in

Who’s who?


You’re with me everyday

Some of you I don’t even know

Yet and still, I know you better than I

Ever knew myself

4 thoughts on “Microaggression”

  1. The amount of volume the piece of writing speaks without even bringing clarity to what it’s actually about is tremendous. If you’re black and reading this you know where it’s going by the time you reach the fifth line, that familiarity, that energy that’s building, that understanding of words unsaid being said in a language (no pun intended) that you’re fluent in, it’s gripping.

    Reading this I see two mindsets.

    I’m black, I’m inherently pissed (and for good reason) of this world tip-toeing around an oppression that still exists within the underbelly of a system built by men in suits inherent in wealth.

    I’m white, I’m see your people as a source of amusement because I was brought into a system that to a great extent hides truth from me about your people, and because of this I’m inherent to see you as nothing more than entertainment, if not entertainment, then a threat.

    I hit that follow button the moment I read the titles of the pages. Tyrone haha

    1. I really like your interpretation of this piece. I also wanted to personify microaggression — “I find you in bars,” “you go by another name,” etc. It is everywhere and I wanted it known that it is virtually everywhere — like a person you can not escape. Thanks for making me look at and think about this piece once more and thanks for following the blog.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s