A Diary From Noone

She spoke but no one heard, every scream seemed a whisper, and so she took pen to paper...

Tag: #blacklivesmatter

Colour

The, “N” words,
Nigger or Negro,
Shot, Shot!
The, “B” word,
Black,
Shot!
The, “C” word,
Coloured,
Shot!
Words are just words,
Yet the intension of how they are said,
Delivered with clarity,
Doused with…
Venom,
And…
Spite,
They are as powerful as a bullet to the head!
Shot, shot, shot shot!
Is this what you see when you look at me?
What you think I am?
How you describe me?
Yes,
I am black and proud,
If asked to describe me physically,
Is colour the first thing that springs to mind?
Surely you understand that such language and choice of words like those above,
That is derogative and uncalled for!?
You can pretty them up,
In songs or rap,
Say them about me behind my back,
Hurl them at me in a racist attack,
But such strategies are wack,
You have to understand that I am black,
And I am proud of that,
Because the colour of my skin is part of me,
I was born with it,
It is part of my identity,
But not everything about me.
Prejudice and racism has not ceased it is still very much here,
Not just a part of our past or old tainted wives tales that you may hear,
But if you open your eyes and mind,
You will soon discover that the colour of my skin should not trigger fear.
Despite the colour of our exterior,
Our skin,
We are all just human beings.
I look in the mirror and just see me,
Not my colour,
I look deeper then that,
Trying to find the overall beauty,
Outside and in,
Strip off our skin,
We are all the same within,
So why fight one another?
There is so much cruelty, trauma, hate and sin in this world,
I want no part of it.
I don’t want revenge for those tortured, mistreated and killed because they look like me,
But I do want mercy and reconciliation,
Or it was all for nothing
I acknowledge the past,
And I will always remember those that suffered for equality,
I recognise that the scale of injustice and mistreatment has decreased dramatically,
But I shudder and weep when I study black history,
Rage when I think of all of the lives lost to death and slavery,
Just because of biology and anatomy!
I want to hold my head up high,
In silent protest,
And make the most of this life given to me.
I am privileged,
Lucky to have been born in a more equal part of the world,
Lucky to have been born at this time,
But that luck does not help starving babies in third world countries,
Black children getting less education,
Black teenagers peer pressured into gangs,
Black men being put into prison for just being black,
Black women being raped for just being black,
Just because the devil only see’s their colour,
Forgets that their lives matter,
People even up to now,
They don’t acknowledge that black lives matter.
For those of us with sight,
We are fortunate to see colour,
What a beautiful gift,
Only to be spoiled by the need of power,
Tainted,
And bruised,
Wasted due to inferiority.
Freedom,
That was rightfully ours,
And when I say ours,
I mean all of ours,
But was taken away,
Oblige or die,
Commands and decisions made by self appointed radicalists,
Every knock,
Every bump,
Every push,
Every whip,
My ancestors got back up
And they fought,
And they earned their freedom,
Tested again and again!
I would not be here if it were not for them!
I thank them,
And carry our torch with pride.
When I look at you,
I don’t see colour,
When I look at myself,
I just see me.
I hope that one day,
It can be like that for everybody.
If you pass me on the street and you think my life does not matter because of the colour of my skin?
Do yourself a favour,
Keep your thoughts within,
Button up those lips,
Clench your fists,
And just keep walking,
Because this world is not yours alone,
And my life is not yours to take,
Black lives matter,
Whether you agree or not,
Keep those racist and hurtful thoughts to yourself,
They are your thoughts of harm and pain,
Your problem to contend with,
This planet is for all of us to share!
Join us all,
Or quietly go elsewhere.
This is not a dictatorship?
But a vision to rule out segregation,
An invitation for all of us to be united as one in civilisation,
To include,
Not excluse,
Because of what you look like,
Or where you come from!
Man or Woman,
Black or White,
Gay or Straight,
Christian or Muslim,
Anything goes,
As long as you have a good soul,
Practice in acceptance,
Then there should be no grievance.

Being A Black, Thirt-Two Year Old Woman and Crazy…

After watching, “Being Black And Going Crazy” I have found myself, as a black woman with certified and diagnosed mental health problems, reflecting upon the show and my own personal experiences.
I have been an inpatient at various mental health hospitals in both Birmingham and London over the last three years and cannot say that the ratio of Black patients, White patients, Asian patients and any “Other” patients has dominated more than each other, it has always been pretty equal. Regardless to the culture in which the area of the hospital is situated, because with the huge NHS Mental Health budget crisis, there are often national shortages of beds and so you end up where you end up, regardless of where you come from or which mental health hospital is closer to your home logistically.
I have always tried to accept help when it has been offered, when a psychiatric team suggest you go into hospital, you know it is both serious and important because it is not an easy decision to make or accommodate. If you refuse to comply, you may very well get sectioned and so do always try to accept the help when it is offered, as it is hard to come by.
The only difficulty that I have found as a black woman, is the patronising, inappropriate chat off the ward nurses of African or Caribbean descent. Although I believe that these members of staff were just trying to help, trying to show empathy but they approached me in the wrong way and gave some terrible, unprofessional and uncalled for advice. “Listen my sister, where in Africa are you from? You have a nice skin tone. What do you have to be depressed about? Do you think you are the only one who has had a hard life sister!? You will end up getting diagnosed if you don’t stop. Just pray to God and he will guide you sister.”
Excuse me! Firstly, I am not your sister! Secondly, I am not from Africa! Who cares what skin tone I have!? I don’t know all the reasons and why I am depressed. I most definitely know that life is and can be hard on everyone, not just me! Stop what!? Surely a diagnosis will lead to some kind of understanding, provide some answers!? Pray to God!? I did not disclose that I am religious!
The assumptions’ that these ladies made, the way they spoke to me, what they said to me, it was all because I was a black patient.
Each time I have been admitted into hospital has been because of troubles with my mentality, some of those problems were caused by genetics, both nature and nurture, but not because of the colour of my skin and whether the nurses had good intentions or not, I believe that their approach was unprofessional! I never witnessed them talk to any other people (not of colour) in the same way! I did see them approach fellow black patients.
Every patient, no matter what colour of their skin, their age, gender, sexuality, religious beliefs, diagnosis, they all deserve equal treatment.
“If you would treat the black man like you treat the white man , carry on man! Peace and Love”
“I am a black, thirty-two year old woman with various mental health problems.” Joe Blogs can home in on any part of that information but from the mind of a mental health professional, all they should hear is,”mental health problems”. Ethnicity, age and gender should come second.

© 2019 A Diary From Noone

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑