Flashbacks of Being Colored

A Poem By Anelsa/Tell Us USA, Washington DC Bureau

When we were colored we were family and children had respect

No interrupting conversation, no talking back, we minded child things, we didn’t get bored, we were children and children play.

When we were colored Aunt Shaquita would not have gone to the shelter, our home was her home our bread was shared

Aunt Tassie Mae would not be making weekly trips to the payday advance store, Poppa would give her his sock money.

When we were colored, we shared.

When we were colored, little girls looked like little ladies and boys like gentlemen. Candy curls, prissy socks and dainty gloves. No pants hanging off the derriere and no splits showing all our pearls.

And girls knew how to cross their legs and boys and men would open doors for a lady and bring a lady some flowers and bring a lady some sweets, when we were colored.

We aren’t colored now, we’ve been Negroes and we’ve been Black and now we’re Americans from Africa. Somehow along our journey from the motherland to the purple mountains majesty.

We have lost our manners, our dignity, our regal posture, our sense of community, our pride, our self-respect and respectfulness and we are on the threshold of losing our children.

I don’t know about you, but I want to be colored again.

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