“I wrote this poem after watching a broadcast of the Williams Sisters, early in their careers, playing doubles in a major tennis tournament. What an event. For me, the occasion brought back the childhood excitement of seeing an elegant, mesmerizing Black singer or writer on network T.V. where there was no shortage of maids, buffoons and sidekicks. Here were two young Black women on their way to the top. But then, out of nowhere, I found myself caught up short by the commentator’s odd discussion of complexion. It was nothing, really, compared to any number of mean and condescending comments over the years that questioned the intelligence, the athleticism and the style of the Williams Sisters. Still, the words took me out of the moment, as they do so often, for so many Black people. There you are, enjoying yourself, living your life, going about your business, and then, when you least expect it, someone is trying to put you in a color box, a gender box, a femininity box with their assumptions and limitations.”
—Kate Rushin