Journals

Once the W.A.S.P, his glory since faded, His family gone, incinerated, In his hands held a looking glass: The significance of his past –   The man passed, his story behind, Now sift his ashes, his legacy, Learn his privilege, your destiny; History undressed, fact assessed As just a myth –   Sitting in church Stephen by birth, Sober and somber, The first martyr my namesake, Stoned to death for the truth he spoke –   My last name Capelli I am Italian I’m told, But in the classroom My white American soul Places me ahead of others Who are different – The red, white and blue We all pledge allegiance to Ties us together by an invisible thread Called unity – So, for my first teacher, Wishing to carry favor, While raising the flag My hands never waver –   Small and infantile, In the grander scheme It only lasted a short while, My ignorance replaced By the reality of what I learned Science deemed as race –   But was it natural Before denial of discrimination And any knowledge of inherited privilege   To test the limits of this flesh, To go beyond the borders of culture, But what do I know I’m just another weary American soul –   I was the smartest kid in class And a fool for believing everything I was told.