[Applause]
when was the day that you became your
color I’ve asked this question to
countless people in almost everyone can
remember when and where it happened
usually around middle school maybe
earlier for me it was an art class I can
distinctly remember someone suggesting
maybe the black girl would want to use
the black crayon now I didn’t know
exactly how to respond to this not only
because I was designing a rainbow and I
didn’t exactly know how to work this in
to my color palette but also because
according to Crayola my color was
certainly he had access to the same
colors as I why on earth did he call me
black my head spun as reality just
crashed in my poetry became the place
that I could respond as an artist to
what I didn’t know how to respond to as
a girl or even a woman 26 poetry
journals later and my work will be
featured in academic journals and
diversity programs to help make sense of
this thing called race and racism and
its impact on individuals as a diversity
scholar I made it my mission to help us
move closer to remembering that time
where we embraced colors all of them in
their unique expression of excellence by
themselves to do this I do performance
poetry and diversity workshops and
they’re breaking down racial bias and
cultural insensitivity so that we can
get back into communicating with one
another again the video that you’re
about to watch is a poem that I wrote
called coloring book it’s an ode to the
day that I became black coloring book
when I was just a child colors were a
part of my art lessons things teachers
hung on the walls as inspirations and
gateways for self-expression like God
gift-wrapped the rainbow just for our
amusement there were never any mistakes
never any rules about when and where to
use them
I colored in the pictures and skipped
right over the lines and never once
looked over my shoulder while doing so I
would color the corners of my desk and
the walls the world was my palette and I
could transcend all boundaries
no one could contain our own such
beautiful colors and one would be a fool
to try but soon I was introduced to a
new coloring system stay in the lines
they said only brown and green could be
used for trees no no no no there’s no
such thing as a purple elephant here let
me get you a gray crown soon even I
could see the separation the blues from
the greens the Reds from the yellows but
none so much as the white from the black
they were the mysteriously unused
crayons that refused to mingle or the
black would smudge the perfection of the
white tip or the white would dilute the
power statement of the pitch black the
world became like my crayon box not the
ways of blending but the separation only
the black and the white fixated on the
black and the white why is everything so
damn black and white and even when other
colors emerge they help similar
boundaries soon I knew without question
where to sit in the lunchroom in which
church to go to which schools were bad
which jobs were good which colors not to
wear in certain neighborhoods which
colors I needed to wear in college if I
wanted to be popular and even which
restaurants to
to everything everything I learned it
from my coloring book the place where I
was taught to color five numbers never
stray from the guide never mix the
colors always stay in the lines but you
know sometimes I wish I could still see
those blue trees and purple elephants
color in any section that I wanted
without even thinking twice wish I could
see my box of colors as I did before
there were only two when my friends
weren’t white or black they were Kim and
Kalina and Katy and Rico and Ryan before
the isms crept in yes sometimes I wish I
could see those colors or even be
colorblind but the fact of the matter is
when so many people are crying over
colors dying over colors lying over
colors a color just isn’t a color
anymore and if I knew that one day is so
much pain would come from the same
colors that brought me so much joy I
might have just skipped art class and
left those crayons with all of their
beautiful and painful colors in the box
what if we abandoned this life of color
by numbers I challenge you all to color
outside the lines and let’s take on this masterpiece of life together thank you
when was the day that you became your
color I’ve asked this question to
countless people in almost everyone can
remember when and where it happened
usually around middle school maybe
earlier for me it was an art class I can
distinctly remember someone suggesting
maybe the black girl would want to use
the black crayon now I didn’t know
exactly how to respond to this not only
because I was designing a rainbow and I
didn’t exactly know how to work this in
to my color palette but also because
according to Crayola my color was
certainly he had access to the same
colors as I why on earth did he call me
black my head spun as reality just
crashed in my poetry became the place
that I could respond as an artist to
what I didn’t know how to respond to as
a girl or even a woman 26 poetry
journals later and my work will be
featured in academic journals and
diversity programs to help make sense of
this thing called race and racism and
its impact on individuals as a diversity
scholar I made it my mission to help us
move closer to remembering that time
where we embraced colors all of them in
their unique expression of excellence by
themselves to do this I do performance
poetry and diversity workshops and
they’re breaking down racial bias and
cultural insensitivity so that we can
get back into communicating with one
another again the video that you’re
about to watch is a poem that I wrote
called coloring book it’s an ode to the
day that I became black coloring book
when I was just a child colors were a
part of my art lessons things teachers
hung on the walls as inspirations and
gateways for self-expression like God
gift-wrapped the rainbow just for our
amusement there were never any mistakes
never any rules about when and where to
use them
I colored in the pictures and skipped
right over the lines and never once
looked over my shoulder while doing so I
would color the corners of my desk and
the walls the world was my palette and I
could transcend all boundaries
no one could contain our own such
beautiful colors and one would be a fool
to try but soon I was introduced to a
new coloring system stay in the lines
they said only brown and green could be
used for trees no no no no there’s no
such thing as a purple elephant here let
me get you a gray crown soon even I
could see the separation the blues from
the greens the Reds from the yellows but
none so much as the white from the black
they were the mysteriously unused
crayons that refused to mingle or the
black would smudge the perfection of the
white tip or the white would dilute the
power statement of the pitch black the
world became like my crayon box not the
ways of blending but the separation only
the black and the white fixated on the
black and the white why is everything so
damn black and white and even when other
colors emerge they help similar
boundaries soon I knew without question
where to sit in the lunchroom in which
church to go to which schools were bad
which jobs were good which colors not to
wear in certain neighborhoods which
colors I needed to wear in college if I
wanted to be popular and even which
restaurants to
to everything everything I learned it
from my coloring book the place where I
was taught to color five numbers never
stray from the guide never mix the
colors always stay in the lines but you
know sometimes I wish I could still see
those blue trees and purple elephants
color in any section that I wanted
without even thinking twice wish I could
see my box of colors as I did before
there were only two when my friends
weren’t white or black they were Kim and
Kalina and Katy and Rico and Ryan before
the isms crept in yes sometimes I wish I
could see those colors or even be
colorblind but the fact of the matter is
when so many people are crying over
colors dying over colors lying over
colors a color just isn’t a color
anymore and if I knew that one day is so
much pain would come from the same
colors that brought me so much joy I
might have just skipped art class and
left those crayons with all of their
beautiful and painful colors in the box
what if we abandoned this life of color
by numbers I challenge you all to color
outside the lines and let’s take on this masterpiece of life together thank you
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