And so I'll close with two pieces, both of which
are not on the table, but it's OK,
because they are in the library, actually.
So, sorry.
Black Girl Magic, and then I want
to close with the meditation, because this work has
been incredibly hard.
So Black Girl Magic is the reclamation.
It's something that I wrote back in 2014,
but it gained traction after PBS put it up,
and I then received my first book deal
with one of the big five, which was amazing
and not at all what I anticipated.
But I made the grave mistake of looking at the comment section.
You know, what I'm saying?
So I decided every time I'm going to touch a stage,
I'm going to do this poem.
Because they mad when you're happy,
it seems, and I just want to make you in touch
with all your feelings.
They say you ain't 'posed to be here Black girl,
you ain't 'posed to wear red lipstick,
you ain't 'posed to wear high heels,
you ain't 'posed to smile in public,
you ain't 'posed to smile nowhere, Black girl,
you ain't supposed to be no more than a girlfriend,
you ain't supposed to get married,
you ain't supposed to want no dream that big,
you ain't supposed to dream at all.
You ain't supposed to do nothing, but carry babies,
and carry felons, and carry weaves, and carry silence,
and carry families, and carry confusion, and carry a nation.
But never an opinion because you ain't
supposed to have nothing to say Black girl,
not unless it's a joke.
Because you ain't supposed to love yourself, Black girl.
You ain't supposed to find nothing
worth saving in all that brown.
You ain't supposed to know that Tina, Beyoncé, Cicely,
Shonda Rhimes, shine, shine.
Shine, Black girl.
You ain't supposed to love your mind.
You ain't supposed to love.
You ain't supposed to be loved up on,
you only supposed to pose.
Voodoo child, vixen star, you 'posed
to pop out babies and hide the stretch marks,
supposed to be still.
So still they think you statue.
So still they think you chalked out line.
So still they keep thinking you stone.
Until you look more Medusa than Viola Davis.
Until you sound more Shanaynay than Kerry Washington.
Until you're more side eyed than Michelle Obama on a Tuesday.
But you tell them you are more than a hot comb
and washing set.
You are Kunta Kinte's kin.
You are a Black girl worth remembering,
and you are a threat knowing yourself.
You are a threat loving yourself.
You are a threat loving your kin.
You are a threat, loving your children.
You Black girl magic.
You Black girl fly.
You Black girl bring it.
You Black girl wonder.
You Black girl shine.
You Black girl bloom.
You Black girl.
Black girl, and you turning into a beautiful Black woman right
before our eyes.
Thanks.