that art is by Petra Collins
here's how white people try to steal other people's things and call it their own:
in Detroit, it's a thing where mostly white people from outside the borders of Detroit proper like to say they're from Detroit
Detroit's a big city, so if you're from it, it's hard to be outside it
but if you're not from it, you are outside it
they think it's easier, more recognizable, to say, I'm from Detroit, and it is
but you're not from Detroit, so saying you are is identity theft
and it's Detroit, so you're trying to steal Detroit??
and if you were from Detroit, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be trying to say you were from somebody else's city
hangin out on belle isle doesn't make you a Detroiter, or my mother would be a Detroiter, bein from redford doesn't make you a Detroiter, loving Detroit doesn't make you a Detroiter
saying you're from Detroit when you're not is like forcing the world to adapt to you just because you're you, which is what white people do all the time all over the place
fighting is exhausting, and then if anyone's ever watching, if you choose to step out for a fight, you get judged for not doing enough. that's exhausting, too. so that means that i don't do it consistently. which means that i eat racist white people's shit all day long. STILL. i have chosen this town to live in and i know the people that i know and i'm still surrounded by their racism? they have no idea, either. because i've been complacent. because i wanted to have friends. they think they're the good kind of white people. but they're still cockroaches. they're still the kind of white people who burst in take over take charge tell you who how to be. i am becoming an island of myself because i mistakenly surrounded myself with assholes and called them friends. however, my island has three young male inhabitants who i birthed years ago.
so this year, i realized that i was eating constant racist white people's shit and pruned my world like i was at a waxing salon. pruning my insides meant that i saw my outsides for what they were. and then when i saw my outsides for what they truly were, i began to see more of my insides, including real gross stuff.
real gross stuff that i could either continue to sweep under the rug or face and heal from and leave behind forever. the real gross stuff came from regular life experiences. lots of children get abused. lots of people have bad relationships. lots of people have all sorts of stresses. regular real gross stuff. keeping quiet when i smelled bullshit was becoming a real problem because i was starting to see that it was my bullshit.
i don't get sad when i think, well, we're born alone and we die alone. but we're all star dust and we're all light (and dark, XTC, god damn), so we're not really alone. so i'm cool with being an island of myself who birthed humans. it's my life. it's not your life. it's my damn life.
don't say you're from Detroit if you're not, god damnit, and if you're white, that goes double
Este obra está bajo una licencia de Creative Commons Reconocimiento-NoComercial-SinObraDerivada 4.0 Internacional.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.