Look at me,
call me Nubia,
made of clay from the woman who moulded me.
Look at me,
call me Queen,
I who carries kingdoms and challenges with grace.
Look at me,
call me Empress,
she who trades in tears of gold
when the world demands it’s price for success.
She who can’t conform to stereotypes,
stereotypes like a woman should respond when whistled at because attention is the measure of beauty
and getting in the door should be an achievement of it’s own
when in fact “she deserves a seat at the table” and “let her be heard” are the mantra.
Look at me,
I am woman
and I am black,
and I owe you no explanation for my God complex.
Excerpt from Chapter 8: An Ode To Black of “African Gentleman” by Jade Novelist