I Stand: An Homage to Wesleyan College, 1836

by D’Andrea Dixon
I stand with my two feet planted firmly in the wet ground
I stand with my hands lifted, palms out - quiet. Not a sound
I stand with Taiwan, Syria, Chicago, Flint, and Persons
I stand with every nigger-lover loving all of their brothers and sisters, abroad and in person
I stand alone in a cold office - defending myself, my voice, my thoughts 
I stand ashamed and uneasy at the bloodshed - the loss
I stand with aboriginal, queer, poor, colored, and disabled folk
I’ll stand arm in arm - rubber bullets flying in a cloud of smoke
I stand with my immigrant sisters - adding spices, flecks of color to this southern moist air
I stand with the atheists, fairies, converters, and those who just don't care 
I stand with those who won't stand with me because of my skin
Those who won't look at my eyes - afraid that they’ll see themselves within
I stand alongside  young mothers who chose not to be - go getters with a vision... ones returning to fulfill a dream
I stand in the soles of my sisters - every single one
Green, Red, Yellow...Plum
From Soong Mei-Ling to Dylene Taylor
From Alexis the undefended to the vandalizing naysayer 
I stand with my enemies, whom my love may never reach 
Often times even facing them with turned, blistering cheeks
Yes, even my Tri-K sisters from 100 years ago
Who may have sweetly kissed its trunk
There I swung - tarred, swollen - from head to toe
I stand in solidarity with the peace-makers and no-shows
Kill joys and introverts - pussy loving dykes
I love my transgendered heroes
I will stand.. I will stand until I am pulled down and apart by age 
Back into the ground from where we all first came
I will stand and lament - I may fall to my knees then
But I will not be alone - never ever again
For my sisters, my dear Wesleyannes
Will feel our shifted weight - turn ‘round and extend a hand
See, it is in times like these when brightly colored thumb cuffs, like hate, has us bound up tight
We must remember that We are our strength - we are the cream and the crop
We are the sirens and the saviors
We are the beguilingly docile misbehaviors
Geniuses that will birth a nation - or not if we don't want to
We are whatever we say we are...but we will not ever. Ever.
Tolerate or tip toe around hate crimes...
We may have once, but no, my love, not this time. 
Not this time because last time it mattered. 
And this time it matters.
And every time matters.
And today is not the time to pretend like words don't matter.
Like people don't matter. 
Like people aren't matter, like we don't fill up space and give off energy - shouldn't we give out love? 
Freely and when in need
Like candy in clear bowls being passed 
around the library like good gossip.
Easy to swallow - easy to share.