When the light comes on.

When I step outside my house, I am black and proud, but am worried. When I see a white person I must wonder, are they frightened of me? As they clutch their purse and cross the sidewalk I know my answer. Reflecting on the whip of slavery, I wonder why they fear me, when they were then and are now in power. What could they possibly have to fear from me?

The lightbulb comes on. Only the guilty who know what they’ve done fear retribution from the victimized.

They know what they’ve done to us

They know what they keep doing to us

That is why there is this constant drumbeat of “protest peacefully’ from the news media

There is a fear in white people that white people will get what is coming to them.

I believe they will in the end,

Not from me however,

They will “get it” from their biracial grandchildren every time they look at them.

They will get it when their white son comes out of the closet and brings me home to Thanksgiving dinner from college as his “best friend’ who sleeps in the same bed with him.

They will get it as they watch the country and the world become more and more brown, and eventually whiteness is just a faded memory. That is what they are afraid of.

They know what they’ve done to us

They know what they keep doing to us

And they know what is coming.