A Poetic Letter for Amerikkka, by Rosa Martinez, Ph.D., Assistant Professor, Department of English, Sacramento State.

Dear Amerikkka, by Maya Coleman

You say you are not your ancestors, but there is still an unpaid debt.

And as you can see, the descendants birthed after your crimes are here to collect.

How do you calculate the worth of millions of Black enslaved bodies?

How do you reconcile intentional systematic productions of poverty?

As far as I can see,

You shake a lot

You deflect

You don’t know whether to call me Black or African American,

And say nothing as your family talks about how to make America Great again.

Oh the silence.

Oh how it has taken up more space then your privilege.

It’s uncomfortable isn’t it.

You say you are not your ancestors, but I am mine. They sent me to send you the message that we won’t be singing hymns this time.

No more asking for freedom, recognition and acceptance. No more waiting on your repentance.

Oh the silence,

And how it has been the greatest violence.

They tell me that my analysis isn’t fair.

“After all Maya it’s not like you were there.”

Forget the genocide of my people.

Allow these conversations about race

Just like 1968 to make me feel

that the playing fields are equal

“Maya forgive and forget,

Move forward and neglect that all these conversations have not produced reparations yet. Shhhhhhhh Maya be patient.”

They theorize in their classrooms

about what black people want and need

As if Black scholars and intellectuals

Did not leave.

A blueprint

A clue

Debating on whether racism is my problem to fix

Or is it for you?

How do you calculate that worth of millions

Of Black enslaved bodies?

How do you reconcile

Intentional systematic productions of poverty?

Seems like the first of the month with no harmony.

Amerikkka your rent is due.

And you

say you are not your ancestors, but there is still an unpaid debt.

And as you can see, the descendants birthed after your crimes are shamelessly here to collect.