When I was a kid… I recited the pledge of allegiance as if it was written for me. Hell, it was, seemingly, the right thing to do. As I began to age, the pledge and the Lord’s Prayer carried less of a priority as I began to scrutinize their significance. Of course, I had learned of court cases, viewed footage of dogs attacking people who looked like me, read of marches and bombings, feared dudes in white sheets, dreamt of being a firefighter, imagined myself scoring a touchdown for the Dallas Cowboys and eaten hotdogs like they’d make me stronger. Yeah, I did some Amerikan stuff. Ironically, Amerika never noticed me. Not the essence of who I am. Because Amerika and Justice were never blind. I had been raised to appreciate oppression, suppression, and aggression. Strange, it is, that I had been brainwashed to accept abuse. Had I given it any thought - I would have never believed that loving Amerika was necessary, because I realized that Amerika didn’t love me the way she loved those recognized as Amerikans. After all, they were her children.
Now - I am different. I have been in the bowels of Amerika. I have given service to Amerika. I have allowed Amerika to miseducate me. I have given almost half of my earnings to Amerika. I have shown much love to Amerika. Amerika has overlooked my sacrifices and abused me verbally and physically. I have been her scapegoat. I have been the burden of her lover. To think that I have endured any hell that Amerika has offered me is reason enough to not love Amerika. Am I attracted to someone who doesn’t love me?
Yeah, I am here in Amerika. And truly, I could be anywhere other than here. My love and loyalty could wander. I assume that Amerika doesn’t love me. Damn! Why did it take so long for me to realize that she is nothing like my mother? Amerika is never satisfied. I just can’t do enough. Why am I confused when Mother Afrika taught me so much? I guess compassion blinded me. I will not mistreat Amerika, but she must know that I love Afrika - unlike I could ever love her.
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