Am I just another statistic?
The one who wasn’t meant to survive the hood
But the one that could, and I made it here
Yet this still don’t seem clear
so I ask myself.
Am I just another statistic?
Or am I just part of the demographic
Needed to make their quota
So I just showed up
Drank the punch, part of the cult, now I’m glowed up.
With a Red and gold marker, feeling like a martyr because I just don’t buy it, yet I’m bought in whether I like it or not, feeling like I’m about to be caught.
Because this just don’t jive and
I’m feeling like an outsider on this inside
I’m about to be a master with a masters
I’m about to take on the world, happily never after.
Because what education fails to tell you is that life, liberty, happiness, it’s ALL a pursuit
You didn’t know, they didn’t tell you it was a crapshoot?
You can buy in, sell out, or walk your own path and see what it’s about.
As for me, hell naw I ain’t selling out! I go to USC I ain’t! ….. oh wait…
How much am I paying for this clout?
Been hustling all my to survive. Now you’re saying I gotta hustle twice as hard to thrive?
For life, for liberty, how bout some dignity?
And happiness, forget about it. Happiness is a state of emotion. I’m trying to be content through the commotion.
Keep your head low, shoulders stiff, push through the required coursework bs, maybe a little mischief.
Here and there, life ain’t fair, nor should it be.
God put me on my path for a reason, yet I still can’t foresee, as to why I’ve been abused misused mistreated and beaten. Son to a once drug addicted incarcerated father, his vices defeated. Son to an alcoholic mother, that issue temporarily seated. Brother and the youngest of 5. Had to have thick skin growing up to stay alive. Target of bullying as a kid, now painting a verbal picture of the depths I’ve been in.
I got neighbors addicted to meth tripping out in the street, other neighbor got shot – body cold he can’t feel his feet. One neighbor OD’d- had a heart attack now he’s 6 feet deep.
Last but not least how can I never forget my homie Anthony I seen him just last week.
The occasional nod out of respect we say what’s up, lived in the corner house those people too liked to shoot up.
10 some people living in just one home
Little did I know Anthony felt so alone.
So much that one morning he took his own life
Screaming internally, no one could hear him so he skipped using the knife
And strung a rope to the tree you could see from the street.
Neighbors woke up crying, but Anthony now resting in peace
Now resting in peace, nah resting in power
He’s in a better place, but his poor soul devoured. Swallowed up by the ills of the block, the hood, the city that never could. The state, the government, education systems that failed, the nation at war with the world, consider your importance sailed.
Because we’re out here at war battling the depths of our own souls
What do you think you know about improving urban education?
This is the story that happens far too often, but never told.
Efforts to improve urban education can be transformative, but these efforts should not just be education based alone. We must gear our efforts towards improving the quality of live for those that have the least. Through this action can we hope to build better communities. Nothing more, nothing less.