We need new words. I need new words, ones that roll off my tongue. The colored ones get caught in my throat. New being in Jesus Christ, these racialized ones don’t work for me. They didn’t go down easily. They didn’t stick to me. I cannot make them a part of me, just take them when they treat me as foreign, my body no longer kin.
Race gets me beside myself, compared to someone else. And I just want to be free. I want this word off of me. It has no right to rule over me. I have something to say. I have the final say in who I am and who I will be. Still, race interrupts so frequently that I’ve grown tired and now it speaks for me.
Hold my tongue.
Hold my breath.
Die to self.
Die to who God created me to be.
Baptized with Christ, race should be dead to me.
I need to talk about it in the past tense. Race was here.
America capitalizes on everything, even skin is its own kind of currency. But, I am not buying it. Change the market. I want something else. Because race is not another word for human.
No, I need a new word.