lirik lagu angela brown - our daughters
i did not know i had it so good. i inherited 8 acres of land and my father’s dark skin. the blood that runs through my veins is type b. my ancestry is molded to the back hills of the side country in duck hill, mississippi. i have an acute knowledge of my family told through word of mouth. my great grandmother did not raise any fools. great grandma felt acutely self-conscience about her surroundings. no one could outsmart a b-tterfly
great grandma listened swiftly at the wind charms. she knew something hot was cooking in the oven. carefully she listened, “are you in love?” she noticed my hands were fidgeting, like her mother’s fingers did when she was nervous. she kept her eye on me as i began to pace back and forth talking to myself. i must have inherited this queer behavior from my family
“of course i am in love” i replied. i must have left a trail of salt from the kitchen that i tossed over my back for good luck. it is family tradition to encounter fate without resistance
great grandma’s eyes grew wider, “are you pregnant?” she lifted her eyes as i p-ssed. i had on a halter top. it was the middle of the summer and i dressed for the heat. she noticed the fat rings on my back
“please do not talk about me?” i replied, “it is baby fat, ma.” i looked down at my shoes and i had problems bending over. i admit i could not see the floor. i had always been thin. “i am just gaining weight.” i thought. i began to get restless at her line of questioning was worrying me. “i had gained at least 20 pounds within a few months.” i replied
“you let that boy, do you?” ma replied. ma got closely approached me saying, “you know you want to smile” she laughed and turned away
“it is true i had an affair with a married man,” i began to crawl up in my seat. “it has been weeks since we last had contact.” i told ma. “does it matter?” i questioned
“if it is that long, you need to see a witch doctor to take care of your problem,” said ma
i went to a sonographer instead. i had to drink 2 gallons of water before the appointment
the gynecologist who gave me the pap smear claimed,” this is the kind of thing that happens to you people all the time.”
i wanted to take care of it. i did not know if i could part from it. my strange behavior had not changed. i loved to dance. i loved holding his hand. i loved having conversations. i had to do what i had to do. i understood this
the sonographer put jell on my stomach to see if it was a baby. “it is 3 pounds,” said the sonographer
“it is the relationship between us, that made us bond” i thought. “he claimed, i was his goddess.” i acknowledged he was married.” i thought to myself
the sonographer inquired, “i saw the dominance over you mam, but it is a cyst.” i began to cry
i began to get relieved. i told the witch doctor, “i will have to p-ss.”
the sonographer replied, “i will have to pull the cyst out.” “if i don’t you will be damaged for life, you will not be able to have children.”
a month p-ssed. i stirred around. i fiddled with my hands. i began to feel peace with my inner being about what happened. i had a painted impression on my face that i was a survivor, thanks to grandma’s curiosity that saved my image. i thought, “what would people think?”
out of curiosity of reason, my life was heavenly, as i spread my colorful wings to fly into the belly of the sun. it was the day i became a woman
old age has caught up on me
where wisdom is patiently counting dawn
who am i? am i the person who bathed you, played with you and read you bed time stories until the wee hours of the night? am i the person who coached you and supported you through your journey? others see me as bitter and cold
and ain’t i an american?
who am i? am i the one that cooked you dinner and cleaned the house while you were away? am i the one that nursed you while you were sick? am i the one who obeyed orders and completed good deeds? others find me helpless
and ain’t i an american?
who am i? was i your right hand man that made sure everything was in order? was i the one who followed orders and went beyond call and duty? was i the one who went beyond adversity? others find my faults
and ain’t i an american?
who am i? am i the one to respond to duty? it is my patraonage to follow and protect and test the waters while others can not. others don’t respect this
and ain’t i an american?
who am i? am i the one god made strong enough to follow in his path in this journey to be heard? i am an auntie. i am a child. i am a teacher. i am a soldier. i am a child of god
and ain’t i an american?
i walk like i am disabled
there is a monkey on my back
i carry the load of intollerence
i may be used
i may be abused
i have been lied on
i have been beaten
i may be lonely
i may be saduced
and my prayers and dreams
shattered the truth
but i am still here
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