Unseen Freedom!

Words energizes, unifies, and amplifies messages for impact.

I had the pleasure of being asked to share some Protest Poetry during our Annual National Convention today. Here is my original Protest Poetry!

UNSEEN FREEDOM! 

By Cachet Wells

America, America, God shed his grace on thee and crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining.

 

See, its like geographical coordinates forming an unequal grid system of life, liberty and democracy. Trying to pinpoint where the dysfunction of equality began that has blurred the lines of humanity and justice. Unmeasured lines stretching the distance through generations that has carried us. Through the marginalized oppressions of old, to the new age microaggressions that seek to reverse the work of rights that are civil, inclusive and diverse. 

Constantly fighting for the transformative progress of inclusion and equality with those who exclusively feel America's freedom only belong to some. As the blood of my people still pour out upon the streets and the cries of our ancestors ring out from beneath the earths bloody soil that's disguise as beautiful National Parks and Historical Landmarks that are belting screams of why. Why, we still have not overcome. Murders, wondering why we can't just get over the very thing they don’t want to stand and admit is the ugly truth of this unseen freedom.

As I Remember their names

George Floyd

Sandra Bland

Demar “Trey” Reed

Tonea Nicole Miller

Sonya Massey

Nolan Wells

Yet, strange fruit is still swinging from trees of violence on campuses with unfound cameras. As the narrative remains the same, as if they'd really chosen their own ending. While the silence of truth continue to sleep. It is the tears of them left to weep flowing. Injustice still ringing out like battle hymns on a country road, praying to just make it home one more day.  The frustrations of blindly being black pounding hard in my head. Like the sounds of a cracked floor board on a cold night. Walking, breathing, living! Living in the light of this darkness. Equally treading, standing and being myself in the height of this blackness. Surrounded by silent allies who constantly want us to advocate for things that we see affect one group, but they have closed eyes to the disparities of other groups. In places that some don’t even feel we have the right to have access to be, in this country to which we were born.

Frienemies wearing masks that hide faces and shields voices, causing destruction from place to place. Praising our works in secret while secretly giving empathy in private to the public violence and abuse that is happening all around us across the good ole USA. Quietly sitting by observing a people being discriminated against, as if they've not seen or heard a thing, as it plays out like a bad movie. After all, No one is taking a poll to say “Are they blind or disabled that we may pass them by.” No, they stay focus on the color of our skin and just say “Here’s another one let’s try.” Trying to belittle, degrade or humiliate us at all cost. For No one will care they’d be just another black life lost. It's like seeing someone wounded or abused and saying “Well, how are you doing today?” and going on about your day. Where is the compassion and  respect in that! However, we continue showing up on frontlines, serving others who don’t see us as humans and giving back to those who repeatedly take our lives as if black lives don’t matter in many spaces to people who will never have our back. 

The unseen freedom, yielding of our authentic self. Free to speak truth to power, Free to walk the streets in peace without being profiled.  Free to live with respect and dignity as a viable person in this society. Standing up for the rights of people who dont think those rights even belong to blacks, let alone one who is also blind. For thine eyes have seen us serving on front lines for a country and community who only see us as a casualty to be discarded or as test experiments for their own GLORY, GLORY HALLELUJAH. Yes six score and 2 years later that is the truth that is still marching on.

 

Friction from the chains of freedom that seem to  continually give resistance to the reality of those who are black. Freedom to truly be viewed as equal and to live the dream of being free. Tracing the steps and lyrics of restricted mindsets that don't understand that our blackness and blindness cant be separated. Because when we enter in, it is the color of our skin they refuse to let be, that is carrying a white cane that sees for me. Giving musical assistance with every tap to the burdens we weren't born in, but walk in every day no matter the distance. What Justice is that, if its just us who cant be celebrated as part of the beautiful, diversified, shades of America. One of which to whom I'm proud that I belong, yes unapologetically, beautifully, blindfully black. Forging forward every day in a society that claims they don’t see color, but daily its our blackness that they see when refusing opportunities and positions, recognitions and existence! When we enter spaces that folks feel like its only reserved for certain races.  Never qualifying us based on our qualifications or skill sets. Just summing us up by the shade of our skin as to how they feel we should or shouldn't fit in.

 

You see I was born black then went blind, living blind in a dark world without sight, but with vision that many choose not to see in me either way. I didnt choose neither one, but every day I'm fighting to exist as both. With resilience, persistence and confidence of who I am. I wasn't born in the struggle, but constantly facing the challenges of what the struggle created of disparities, injustice and inequalities that so many want to havea blind eye to. It seems that until death and tragedy come knocking at the door to more than those who are black there is no real equity and freedom. Nor any level of understanding, empathy or correction desired by those who reside in this land is your land, this land is my land, From California to the New York island, From the redwood forests to the Gulf Stream waters. According to some this land was made for you, you, you, not me.