Skip to main content

Hope and the Hood

Two weeks ago, I shared with the Dream Keepers a poem written by a friend of mine called, "To be Old, Gifted, and White." The writer spoke about his experiences living and protesting in Milwaukee. From this poem, the Dream Keepers chose to write on the theme, "Our Hood." This week the Dream Keepers chose their theme from a line from Nikki Giovanni's poem HOWL: "Call down the stars to write the truth." The Dream Keepers live in one of the worst neighborhoods in Milwaukee. Their writing speaks this truth. Reader be warned: this truth is gritty, real, and frightening.

My Hood
by Brittene Harden
My hood, my block—you see a lot of things.
You can't even go outside without worrying about getting raped or shot at, getting told, "you got a body," or "I can't wait to do this to you." You can't help but think everything that goes wrong is in your hood. You feel sorry for the crack addicts on the street when you really should feel sorry for your self.
My hood, my block—a lot of things.

Our Neighborhood
by Natalie Branch
Do you want to know where I come from?
Where I come from, you need a blade just to walk down the street.
Where I come from, fathers are raping their own daughters.
Where I come from, there's a group of robbers, sex offenders, and peeping toms living right next door.
You wanna know where I come from?
Where I come from you have to prove how tough you are.
Where I come from you can't play with someone without it becoming real.
Where I come from, there are shoot outs.
You don't wanna know where I come from.

The Truth
by Natalie Branch
Truth is, I don't like where I come from.
Truth is, I feel like a dirty bum.
Truth is, I live in deep poverty.
Truth is, I don't even have a clean sheet.
Truth is, I smoke weed to think I'm cool.
Truth is, I hardly ever go to school.
Truth is, I really started to change my ways.
Truth is, I go to church almost every day.
Truth is, I won't go back to my old ways.
Truth is, I'm looking to brighter days.
Truth is, I'm free.

About All I Can Do
by Elisha Branch
All I can do is speak the truth
that is about all I can do.
Make everyone equal, like me and you
that is about all I can do.
Spreading the peace, me loving you
that is about all I can do.

My Vision for Hope in My Neighborhood
by Maya Montgomery
My vision for hope in my neighborhood is not to hear gun shots every night.
I also don't want to see boys on the corner 24/7.
If these things happen, less people will get hurt.
Also, we will be able to play outside.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Six-word Scary Stories

We've done six-word memoirs. Tonight the Dream Keepers wrote six-word scary stories. Read and enjoy! (Then write and submit your own in the comment field!) A vampire destroys the city with power. —Tramonta Garner (pictured above) One virus. One town. No survivors. —Jaimee Bogard-LaMar, 14 One girl. Many monsters. What's next? —Jaimee Bogard-LaMar, 14 Big zombie eats eyeballs. City blind. —Elisha Branch, 14 One house. One family. Both gone. —Elisha Branch, 14 Knock, knock. Who's there? Killer mysterious. —Derranesha, 12 Baby cries. No answer. What happens? —Derranesha, 12 Ring, ring. "Hello." Please help me. —April, 12 The spooky monster ran towards me ... —Sonya, 17 The worm crawls into the brain. —Sierra The slippery, slimy monster grabs two. —Quintoya Eskridge
Post a Comment
Read more

On Beauty

Last night we read poems and essays about beauty in the book edited by Iris Jacob called, My Sister's Voices: Teenage Girls of Color Speak Out. The girls wrote poems in response.  Standards of Beauty by Natalie Branch I’m that girl who never fits in. I’m not fat nor am I thin. I’m an African American with light skin. When I walk out the house, I’m full of curiosity— Not knowing what others will think of me. Some may be jealous, others furious. Me, I’m just curious. My confidence isn’t low; it’s not high either. My emotions are building up—like a deadly fever. People like me because of who I am. People hate me because I’m not like them. Sometimes I ask myself: should I stay the same, or become someone else? That’s something you will never again hear me say. People say change, but I stay the same. I am me, and I was born this way. And this is how I will stay. Yo! I’m sayin’! by Deanna Branch Q: Why you wear yo’ hair like that? Yo! I’m sayin, My hairstyle reflects my personality. When...
Post a Comment
Read more

Writing to Protest

Last Monday we listened to protest music and wrote our own versions of protest poems. Two of the teens finished poems to share with you. Both poets write from another point of view. The first poet takes on the challenge of revealing one's true self. The second poet takes on the traditional values for women. After you read these poems, think about this: what do you want to protest? Write it down. Take A Look by Aliza Mendoza, age 16 Who am I? When you look at me what do you see? Shy and quiet girl. Would you believe me when I say It's just a show. Should I tell you my story to make you understand. Should I shed this pretense and show you who I really am. Should I let the tears fall to show how much it hurts. Should I pull up my shirt for the scars to appear. Should I cut myself just to prove I'm still here. Look at me now. Who am I? Let me know, so I can prove you wrong. It's not me you see but someone else, totally different. Can I touch your arm and you can feel my ski...
Post a Comment
Read more