EVEN THE WORST THINGS CAN BECOME ART

Unsinkable Storytelling Author: Fauzia Agbonhin

 “Pocket sized activism”

Inspired by Blythe Baird

Sometimes I carry my activism in my purse I only take her out when I need to

Like at black lives matter rallies 

Gender equality events

And poetry slams 

So I'll say “I’m a feminist but I don’t hate men” which is basically saying “I’m a feminist but I don’t want you to disprove” 

I want you to sit comfortable in the reassurance that my activism does not ripple outwards 

Dishelve the ground you walk on 

My feminism will not tumble the patriarchy 

I want you to be pleased even when your needs step leisurely on my neck 

Your privilege is safe guarded 

The death of women as comedic relief is granted 

Sometimes I want to be liked more than I want to save the world 

Sometimes my act of violence is my silence 

And sometimes I care more about being called pretty than I do about getting home safe 

I don’t know if its because I was conditioned to take up as little space as possible growing up

But every time I perform at a rally or a protest 

I fight two battles 

The generational war stamped across my poetry and the one in my head telling me I need to sit down and shut up and that I don’t know what I am talking about

Like a pregnant woman didn’t just hug me all teary eyed, telling me I’d changed her life 

Like a little boy didn’t just tell me that my poetry breathed oxygen back into his lungs and gave him more reasons to stay alive

Like I didn’t just meet a little girl who was everything I once was and equipped her with all the tools I didn’t have to survive 

Someone once told me

You cant save a world through narration 

Or

Pronunciation

Or

Abbreviation 

Or whatever it is you do

You cannot beat this world beautiful 

You can yell and scream for justice and peace 

But this is a battlefield not a theatre show

And I asked him why preparing for any performance feels like getting ready to go to war

Why my hands are bloodied

Why my knees tremble 

Why my parents get worried that I might not get home safe

In June 2020 I performed for 10,000 people at a protest to request that black people be treated equal 

I published my first book at the age of 18. 

I’ve seen tears spill from the eyes of people ages above me. 

I’ve been called a leader, a trailblazerbasically someone that has my shit together

But I correct the girl in the crowd of a performance for trying to make an effigy of me 

Because effigies don’t move or speak

And sometimes effigy sounds an awful lot like martyr 

Sometimes 

It sounds an awful lot like you will die trying to make this world safe

I justify my silence by saying I do not have tree branches for arms or cradles for hands 

I don’t want overstep my bounds or mess up and cross a line

but then I wonder just how many black kids didn’t make it home tonight

So 

Yeah I put my activism in my purse, I clutch her closely on my walk home 

I remember her when I’m passing by a dark alleyway and watching the news 

I remember her when my friend says me too

I’m ashamed of only remembering her when I absolutely have to 

My activism rests on my bedroom stand 

It doesn’t move 

Always ready to fight for me 

When I need her 

When I remember her

When I remember that someone needs someone like me

..............................................................................................................................

The Author of  I Never Truly Hated You.

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