This is a spoken word poem written by my friend, the amazingly talented e nina jay. When I first heard this poem, maybe 10 years ago now, I was floored by it. I still am after all of these years. It would take two days to deconstruct it. I asked e nina jay if I could publish it here and she generously agreed. Now you get to experience it too. I thank e nina jay for writing this; it holds so much truth.

i am a feminist
-e nina jay

i’ve got a master’s degree in sacrificial silence and a PhD in pain
‘cause i got a bachelor’s i didn’t want in violence and it’s left some degree of insane
now i am trying to balance holding myself together while still going against the grain
i want black girls to have a study group devoted to outliving shame
this world ain’t really nothing natural ~ fresh water don’t cultivate every tree
not every storm leaves behind a rainbow ~ not every ship comes back from sea
not every child has a parent who loves them ~ these laws do not set us all free
but we live in a place where we praise illusions ~ what it is ~ is very rarely what it be
and so on darkness and shattered glass these damaged legs have come to stand
i know i am as deserving as any white person ~ i am as smart as any man
this life a jungle i must make it through without much light and no map planned
these conditions forced me to learn to join a war that had already began

i am a feminist ~ i stand, unapologetically, for all rights to womyn
i use womyn-centered vision to identify my enemies and my friends
i don’t believe that any kind of same-sex loving has ever been a sin
i should make it home safe each night even if my clothing’s just my skin
i believe that womyn will rule the world ~ i don’t know how and i don’t know when
i am a feminist…
i’m tired of all men who wish to trouble ~ who try preventing this
and i’m tired of white womyn who really believe they own and invented this
and i’m tired of black womyn who only see white girls and keep resenting this
and most of all, the media, who paint me a strange ~ an angry, demented this
there is no mystery ~ they ain’t trying to hide their desires
they wish to turn back the hands of time ~ maybe set crosses back on fire
my right to choose ~ separation of church & state ~ abolish all that has transpired
and daddy’s in jail for putting momma through hell and the baby is getting higher
and it ain’t that i am not concerned about men ~ i just don’t have the time
i’m preoccupied by womyn’s safety ~ we ain’t doing all that fine
a lot of womyn are losing it ~ a lot of girls are crying
and i don’t feel inclined to pacify a brother when all my sisters are dying
we cannot afford to forget just why we have to live these kinds of lives
we gotta take self-defense classes and look over our shoulders ~ this is how we survive
i look at men and i ponder the safety of the world for their mother and their wives
i study the things they do to our bodies ~ whether that be with words or laws or knives
i want safe, clean abortions
and free pain absorptions
much more fair and bigger portions
of this reality
i want a whole new constitution
benefits for those in prostitution
i want to be free of the church’s intrusion
and its legalities

i wanna see children playing on non-violent streets
i’m tired of my rape being the movie of the week
i hope god listens to me as i speak
look what we’re living through
i wanna be all i was created to be
we can’t keep ignoring everything that we see
we need to stand together even when we don’t agree
because i need all of you

call me a feminist or a womonist – i gotta add the color to keep it real
‘cause i deal with shit on ghetto streets they don’t talk about on capitol hill
and i can’t always afford the abortion that i need ‘cause i couldn’t afford the pill
and sometimes my struggle got me in target looking for tampons to steal
there are needs that i have that white feminists do not talk about
they choose to leave me behind to maintain illusion ~ to maintain clout
when i’m dying everyday on malnourished streets ~ i don’t hear them scream and shout
but they call my name with not enough shame when it’s time to bring some color out
now, the white sister that i stand with ~ i still don’t trust her with my soul
‘cause i still imagine her bossing some black maid when she was maybe 4 years old
and i still imagine how many slaves her ancestors may have bought and sold
i have watched her read my poems in shock as if my brain was something i stole
i have met white feminists that i could tell thought they were stunning to me
hands filled with access and funding but they don’t come running to me
crying liberal tears ~ making left-wing promises ~ that shit is cunning to me
‘cause they live in white homes with white men who are always gunning for me

deconstructing this social nightmare is painful ~ but so thrilling to me
‘cause even the bad secrets gotta be told ~ there’s danger in concealing to me
teaching a poor child to reach for american dreams is almost like killing to me
and it’s true i’d be happier if i stayed ignorant but that is not appealing to me
but i don’t pretend i am whole here – i am so broken – i can only work with what remains
after the violence and after the silence ~ i’m trying to fight while still in pain
i have seen womyn stepped over on sidewalks ~ i have watched womyn go insane
i have watched womyn walk every step burdened and never heard them really complain
they draw faint lines between nightmares and what they can do to us
kings protecting queens – that is a cliché – it ain’t never been true for us
all black girls are born in pain from the bruises that color the momma’s uterus
they want us to paint our background yellow when it has always been blue to us
so, if you don’t stand up for me ~ who is gonna do it
if ever i can get a door open ~ it’s you i want to walk through it
if you think loving womyn means hating men you misconstrue it
i just don’t trust him ~ every time i tried ~ every time he blew it

i am a feminist because a womon paved that road for me
and she slaved and she prayed and she carried a heavy ass load for me
and a womon was brave and she stood up and she acted bold for me
my life’s been saved by womyn’s stories that have been told to me
i’m a black girl who needs black girls ~ my life i give to this
as long as i got breath inside this body i will scream ~ i live to finish this
the middle finger to any church or man or thought that seeks to diminish this
and all my love to warm soldier sisters who lay hands on to replenish this
this black girl is a feminist
-e nina jay