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| For Teachers For Visitors |
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Students Perform Langston Hughes-Inpired Poetry
Students selected to read their poetry By Jasmine Bryant, John Muir High
He questions me in a particular way about discrimination in the role of today you wonderen wats goen on in my head well sit down and listen n with words I said Wat it is, Wat it do is that wat you expect me to say where the bloods, where the crips speakin with ma ma lips Wats da deal wit da talk all ur able to do is sag O u hava weird walk n the ever popular wats swag Da say da music u listen to is wat makes u well Lil Wayne n Ciara is wat I listen to poppen bottles n acten lyka boy is wat brings me joy. Yeah sure sure watermelon uh huh uh huh chicken u think dats all I eat I also like burritos n spaghetti and cant forget creame of wheat They laugh at me laugh about the struggles I go threw unemploymeny, baby mama drama, nappy hair Ha ha ha who cares Now open ur eyes n wat do u see were runnen for president in our own way so whose laughen today People judge me, judemental is wat day b staren and maken side comments like ima picture ona wall or ant on da flo who cant even crawl Came nto high school worken hard looken forward neva looken back playen ma card striven in the 11th for a 3.8 im on ma way to college so y u gotta hate He questions me in a particular way about discrimination in the role of today I mayb discriminated against but ima still grow Im going to rise like Maya Angelou. By Maribel Geronimo, Morse High School
H a r l e m One little word. Six simple letters. One gigantic dream. The neighborhood where, Music flowed beautifully, Artist painted swiftly, Writers wrote gracefully, Yes, certainly it all happened there. To all it was, Overwhelming, Exciting, Inspiring. Did they ever think that they would see the day? Going against all stereotypes of, Whites being superior and blacks being inferior. This was all happening and they strove To go all the way. Strong hearted, Intelligent, Beautiful minds. Standing up and putting up a courageous fight. But not with their fists, but with their minds. Fighting for their pride and for their civil rights, While gaining a new insight to life. Facing the diabolical social conditions, Of being put down, Pushed to the ground, And told they’d never amount to anything, But… The struggle made them stronger. The struggle brought them up higher. The struggle made us who we are today. Langston Hughes wrote with his soul. Billie Holiday sang with her heart. One little word. Six simple letters. One neighborhood with so much worth. Harlem …the aspiring Rebirth. By Nathan Hauch, Woodcrest Christian
Soft black hair Walking down the street With the wind blowing hard Purposeful steps, powerful strides Harlem's Angel A man of 53 walks the streets Listening to its symphony When hearing the voice Call out with sweet harmony Harlem's Angel Boarding the bus down to the Queens Not one to be squeamish The man of 53 Walked up and tip his hat To Harlem's Angel A quick smile Sent to his heart a beam of sunshine Opening the door With a small bow Harlem's Angel walked out
By Marquis Allen, Central High School
When I was a boy I was adventurous backyard, trees, bushes, - that was me. When I was a boy I had no worries money, girls, clothes, – never crossed my mind. When I was a boy I could be me! dirty shirt, grass-stained pants, nappy hair, – that was me, when I was a boy. By Yvette Bajaras, El Monte High
When I was little I would wake up to the sight of your face every morning I followed you everywhere like baby ducklings do The sound of your laughter made me happy When I started school I tried so hard to draw pretty pictures for you I tried to learn my alphabet so I could recite it to you I tried so hard to learn math just for math When I turned thirteen I began to realize all the sacrifices you made You left behind your family and country for a better future You worked everyday, no matter how long it was. When I understood, I knew I must do well in school and get to college Once I do, we will go to France as planned I will take care of you as promise For you are my mother The most important person in my world Things may change but you will always come first After all you have done for me, you deserve only the best And, because of you, I am the person I am today
For It Is You
By Gustavo Chavez, Fontana High
Revivals of the Heart, Measured by those sincere words Never written out of Love. Stars manage to find their place amongst their stars. Lurking Minds Never ceasing, Never forgetting Though it is best that they have Forgiven. For in this world, and the next, Revenge is never the answer; merely a toxin that once has taken root will never cease, will only manage to poison the self. Unweaving the reckless pain you once felt. The Cosmos belong to you, if only because they know your pain, if only because their wisdom has deemed it so, if only because in their infinite existence, your story will not be forgotten; it will transverse the ages through your words. Don't shun your inheritance, For it is you. Expression, not silence, is best for your voice. Continue this path if you are WISE. In their wrongs you have found anguish, You have found that which you must never forget. Embrace it, For it is what you once were, For it is a Fraction of who you will become, For it is you. Time once lost, has offered you its hand. Take it. Embrace its sweet sorrow, For it brings redemption; to those who have failed you, to those who have wronged you, to those, who in their primal thoughts, harmed you. Set free that angry sparrow, for your wings will come. Join their world, hand in hand, For we are all children of the sky. But you must never WEAR THE MASK. Additional Submissions By Adilene Bolanos, Central High School When I was a little girl I missed my daddy I cried at night looking for daddy Daddy? Daddy! Daddy nowhere to be found go back to bed run to the shadow thinking it’s daddy no one to call “Daddy” when I was a girl Now I’m older no need for daddy you denied me now I know everything I know what you did but I don‘t argue “Whatever,” Dad I got me. By Marquis Allen, Central High School Gunsmoke and wet grass fill the air I wish I didn’t have to care, but crackheads and gang members always are there. There’s Mrs. Jones… Hey Mr. Owens! They make me feel happy… when I pass, they smile. At night I’m not safe ‘cause walking where I’m from is like walking into trouble. My stomach turns as the black truck slows down Sherie Key, Morse High School I let the smooth melodies of Ms. Holiday embody me as I stare at the bold brushstrokes of an original William H. Johnson painting. I study the happiness and joy in the faces of the colored people, laughing, and excitedly dancing the Jitterbug. Contemplating the struggle in which they had to endure to reach such a peaceful synchronicity within themselves and society. The long journey from the South to the North, an exotic place where the social barriers between races could be forgotten for a single moment in time. A place where African Americans could escape the ever so common burdens of racism, inequality, and injustice for life changing opportunities. From writers to artists, poets and painters, the ability to create was inevitable, and the desire to conceal one’s expression was suppressed, which inspired massive new names in American culture. From the persistence of Marcus Gravey, to poetry by Langston Hughes, the creative visuals painted by Archibald Motley, and the swaying music of Duke Ellington, the artists appealed to several people, despite the color of their skin. And as I ponder that same William H. Johnson painting while the soothing sounds of Billie’s voice fill my mind, I smile at the thought of their accomplishments and for the fact that without them, expression as we know it would simply be an illusion. Breanna Hunter, Morse High School The night is young and we need to feel free
I do it day and night As if my shoes have wings taking me higher and higher Constantly around us Our escape of the hardships and pains of life.
By Krystal Lewis, El Monte High School As the day went on, dull as ever Suddenly, my heart seemed to cease It was so rare His beauty overwhelmed me I thought he was an illusion His golden eyes met mine with a sudden fire Burning with endless desire He walked as graceful as a butterfly His eyes sang bright with anticipation I thought this was a dream Until I heard him speak Melting my heart, like fluttering birds His pale, ice cold fingers grazed my hand As if he had found the love of his life And began to stroll along the path with his trophy, me Vianni Baldobino, El Monte High School I walk down the street And I see corruption striding in All around me I see the pain the hurt The people moving to the rhythm of the World too involved to notice I walk observing the children Each being consumed by Evil I walk Knowing each one will lose them selves in the end Then I remember even though I walk Through the valley of death I see all those who have never felt hope That one day things are going to change One day they will find the light at the end of the tunnel I walk Jiya Bonham, John Muir High School lookin at the rich while I stay bein poor wondering when I can open up that door it’s hard to get by sometimes I wish I could fly free like a bird that’s how I see it in my mind listening to that old time blues just having a good old time instead of watching you do what I want to do and you watchin me while I’m still not free the society today is not what it should be how one again I wish everyone could be free and succeed in this old town blues society By Clarence Carr, John Muir High School Seen as nothing You take ideas from everything I create Creative since birth you can see my work everywhere Done as much as I can And still breaking down borders You cannot hold me back for I am in every round corner The reason you rock, the reason you roll The reason you stop at a traffic light and then safely begin to go Down to earth because that’s where I spent lots of my time Now reassigned to prison cells, concert evidence I’m not worth a dime Sorry of you’re offended that is just my expression Despite the discrimination Looking in the mirror, I am proud, being “I” is blessing Michelle Burwell, Fontana High School Going Flushed? How Can this be? There is no harm in me, I’m just walking down the street. Can you even see? Or is this the place not to be? I’m unwanted here Down by the pier, And where I go, Nobody knows, The life I have to live. Ericka Barajas, Fontana High School One lives life in Dark misery Wandering in seldom secrecy Gazing upon the reflection of oneself Just to realize it is a mere stranger Hidden from reality our mind Wanders in mystery Could it be that this society Is the cause of the controversy? A society in which we are judged On our appearance regardless of Our character; where our goals Are riches without measure? Afraid to remove the mask Of luxury and treasure Feeling disconsolate with The pleasure and always eager For more possessions Dreaming on escaping Yet wishing to stay Filled with hypocrisy Welcome to “Reality”
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