Western University student Audrey Esemezie immigrated to Canada from Nigeria when she was 11 years old. Glenys Obasi moved from Cameroon when she was 12. To mark Black History Month, they each wrote a poem about growing up black in Canada.
"I wanted to write about my personal experience about being black, and not necessarily events that have happened to me, but events inside of me, and a journey to accepting me being black and me being from Nigeria," said Esemezie, a second year medical science student at Western University
Black Girl by Audrey Esemezie
I used to feel like being black put me at a disadvantage
I used to feel like not being born in Canada was an unbearable baggage
I used to feel like having dark skin, a gap in my teeth and untameable hair
Made me less special, less beautiful, less worthy … it was my internal despair
I have never felt explicit discrimination because of my skin
But I used to feel the impact of teachers being surprised about how well I spoke
Although, I have never been openly harassed, I could always hear the predispositions within
The predisposition that the colour of my skin is an indication of my intelligence or lack thereof
The predisposition that where I was born meant that I could not aspire for excellence, that I could not achieve the same things others could, or compared to my non-black peers, I probably was not good enough
I used to feel like the most intrinsic part of who I am, being black, was somehow a crippling factor, an inhibitor of my success, a handicap to the feeling of acceptance I so craved when I moved here 9 years ago
Now I have learned that black is not a handicap, an obstruction or an obstacle to overcome
Now I have learned that being black is the epitome of resilience, the epitome of beauty, the epitome of strength … a natural phenomenon
Now I have learned that being black has made me a person who is understanding of all people
A person who feels empathy for anyone whose identity opposes destructive societal norms
A person with integrity
Now I have learned that being from Nigeria is why I have never settled for mediocrity
Being from Nigeria is why I strive for success
Being from Nigeria is an irrevocable part of my identity
Being black has put me at the forefront of excellence
Being black makes me anything but less
"The compliment of 'Oh, you're pretty for a black girl,' making jokes about dark skin, even our hair being very curly was seen as a bad thing. I really started learning and doing research and getting into topics related colourism," said Obasi, a first year psychology student at Western University.
Melanin by Glenys Obasi
She stands beneath the sun as her skin,
Gets infused with vitamin D.
Her melanin glowing like the star she is.
She is filled with pride,
Knowing her skin can handle the heat.
And the warmth that she feels,
Ignites pure joy from within.
Her skin radiates nothing but self-love,
Sometimes mistaken for vanity.
Because the idea of a woman being confident,
The thought of a woman having high self-esteem,
Because a black woman not feeling pity for her skin,
Is so unorthodox to an archaic mindset,
That she is deemed conceited.
But no worries because she's got thick skin,
Literally.
Resilient to the words that come out of their guns,
Shielding her heart from their bullets,
For they must be shunned.
Because despite her oozing rich, dark, chocolate,
Her immaculate skin,
Has been cast a sin.
Why you ask?
Because people are oblivious to the fact,
That there are fifty shades of black.
And they just happen to be fifty shades lighter,
And she just happens to be fifty shades darker.
Social darwinism has been entwined in their minds,
That they justify their … beliefs,
Yet deny their colourism,
And still wonder why her self-love is abundant,
While she mends the constant wounds they inflict.
From their skin bleaching ads,
"Just being white you will win,"
To their compliments,
"Oh you're pretty, for a black girl."
But she walks with her head held high,
Because she knows her skin is a blessing not a curse,
Because she knows a little dark chocolate never hurt,
Because she knows her melanin is poppin'.
And though she never finds her foundation at the beauty store,
Or any shade she can use to contour,
She knows her skin is not to blame,
For the lack of shades at Almay.
And when she feels like her skin is a burden,
She remembers that she is a goddess,
Dipped in honey and tossed in gold,
Rich in chocolate that never gets old,
Her skin is immaculate,
Her melanin is poppin'.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rebecca (((Zandbergen)))
Host, London Morning
Rebecca Zandbergen is from Ottawa and has worked for CBC Radio across the country for more than 15 years, including stops in Iqaluit, Halifax, Windsor and Kelowna.
