march22|right of passage

Right of Passage
(eye witness | draft 2)



your blue, crisp uniform tells me that I am just another
another person of color
another womyn
another low income, first generation college student
another ‘other’
I tell you that I belong here
But you decide to close the door in my face

Denying my passage
My rite
My right of passage

I knock on glass as questions begin to furl my forehead
You turn away as if you didn’t see me
As if history caught amnesia and erased the last ten seconds of our interaction
I knock harder and we catch eyes but you are on the inside
And I am on the outside looking into
Into the 1 inch of glass that separates our ability to be together
To be

Why won’t you let me in? I ask
No answer
Again, why won’t you let me in? What’s going on?
This time, you wedge open the door and question yet again
My identity
My purpose
My existence

I need to get into my office, I say
I show you my my IDs, my keys
Emptying my empty pockets for your approval
Hesitant, you look me up and down
Realizing that I was harmless
Nothing but a womyn
A student
A friend
A sister
An activist

You judged me
You denied my passage
My rite
My right of passage