“Take a Walk with Me” is a short poem about some of my experiences growing up from a little black boy to a black man on the south side of Chicago. I’m pretty sure there are many of you who have had similar experiences. These experiences, plus many more, all contribute to the person I am today and the person I am still going to become. Share this if you like it. And if you have had similar experiences, feel free to share them in the comments for those who are unaware. Thanks for reading the poem, and have a good day everyone!!!!
Take a Walk with Me
Walking in my shoes…
Means hearing a click-click sound while retrieving groceries from your car.
Not the sound of a gun, but still the sound of security.
I look at him he looks at me.
Hands red from nervously clutching the steering wheel firmly
Not angry, instead a smile forcefully makes its way onto my face
Have a nice day
Walking in my shoes…
Means pulling up to a red light
Right on cue the boys in blue take their position, right at my side.
Deep Breath. Eyes straight ahead.
But I can feel it. Like an object entering our atmosphere
Their glare is burning a hole through the side of my face, piercing my peaceful
aura.
It bothers me.
Eye contact, flashing lights.
Fuck, Phil why’d you…
“Sir, why did you give me the finger?”
“Um, what?”
“I saw you. At the light, you looked at me and stuck your middle finger up at
me.”
“Officer you must have the wrong person.”
He stares. Doesn’t ask for a license. He’s watching
My reaction. Hoping for a reaction.
He folds. I win?
“Alright. Well, have a good day.”
I smile and repeat the same.
Walking in my shoes…
Means going to kick it with your Hispanic homeboys from across the street
3:30 p.m., schools out, and it’s time for Xbox in somebody’s attic.
The air is falsely warm and inviting.
Fresh air flows through every follicle of my braided hair.
Guys on the porch as usual, but something is off
Bruised faces and black eyes threateningly greet me.
Tears collect, fall, and sizzle as they make contact with the summer sidewalk.
“Damn, what happened y’all?”
“We got jumped by some GDs so we don’t wanna see no black people right now.”
Huh?
Outnumbered. Hostile. Tense.
Memories of our childhood greet me as I go back to where I came from
Baseball, laughs, video games, and good times.
Couple of days later, I received an apology.
Hurt and still confused, I smiled and accepted it.
Many years later, no longer confused, it still hurts.
Walking in my shoes…
Means I smile in the midst of darkness
Means laughter is the best medicine
Means a Smile Now Cry Later tattoo
Means being honest
When asking myself, how long can I keep this up?
About the Author: Phil Purkett Jr.
Founder and Creator of Some Guy in Space. Second of his name. Real cool dude. Sexy.
Some Guy In Space 