When You Look At Me: A Brown Woman’s Lament
When you look at me
you see motel maids
changing sheets
in the pink & grey rooms
your parents stay in.
you see dark brown women
on their knees scrubbing floors
in Baja restaurants
or standing with a blue-eyed child
on each hip.
It doesn’t matter if I wear
tweed suits and pace the floor
on Givenchy heels
in front of busy chalk boards
You see Lupita the nanny
in your t.v. mind.
she wears mismatched clothes
and slide heavily on leather huaraches
towards her unwashed children.
To you I am an aberration
that confuses your senses
and blurs your vision.
It is difficult for you to
recognize me as “Dr.”
You want me to remain nameless
silent, invisible.
But I stand before you
speaking your language
and teaching you things
you are not sure of.
Now you must either change
your misguided notions of who I am
or kill the me
that cannot live in your world.
II
When you look at me
you see educated nipples
intelligent legs, a brilliant ass.
You chica, mija, chula me
until you get beyond the fact
that i have a phd.
In department meetings
I call for broad visions
and student needs.
You envision a broad
who can meet your needs.
You are unfamiliar
with a woman
who can see through
your veneer.
My loud clear voice
threatens your ears.
To you I am expendable
like the woman who keeps
taking you back
like the mother who is
always there to feed you.
Like that part of yourself
that you thought you destroyed
when you decided to become
a thin worn metallic chair
a conflict without resolution.