Rush by Endeah Huey

A girl. Face blessed with acne, skin tight as a perfectly ripe banana. Lips perked up to the
experienced, she rebels, at any and everything someone says to her. Because what she says,
does not goes. But she comforts herself to believe that it does. “The world is mines”,… if only it was,… the world would be simplified in an despicable way. Incarceration for people like me. Even you. Because, now you’ve belittled the world. And in follows, you have belittled yourself.

This girl, dreamed eight different dreams, moves eight different ways, and wondered
eight different possibilities. Each time, she moves, but is accompanied with her “irritation”.
That itch she absolutely cannot scratch. So then she pouts and pouts because she can’t move
without her “irritation”. But every once in a while, it goes away. Eager to take advantage of the opportunity, she crawls, then stumbles, then walks, then run and finally sprints. She feels relieved, an “away-from- home-remedy” for the itch she can’t scratch. She is invited into a milk and honey bath, a remedy for the itch she can’t scratch. Its soothing, relief, she believes this is where she is meant to be. She… indulges into the milk and honey and takes a death breath. After years of her “soothing” and revitalizing experience, she stands up and takes a look into the mirror.

She has four eyes, eight legs, with hair arousing from every pore in her body. Disgusted,
and ashamed… the itsy bitsy spider climbs up the water spout… and draws a web of despair and self-destruction.

SUPERMARKET by Azúcar Mind

Uncomfortable. Like any hideous baby feels when an even uglier person is playing along with ITS toys. Once at an out of town supermarket, I couldn’t go down an aisle without people staring at my face, just trying to decode if I am white or not.  I guess my ethnicity seems to be way more interesting than the lady next to me carrying hundreds of ALWAYS Maxi Pads packs. Their gaze can be so intense, it is as if they’ve never seen a Hispanic in its natural habitat. Like a safari ride, watching “the wild” through bulletproof windows.

I remember I went shopping after the presidential election. I went to a close Marshalls. Just imagine the red dot painting, that was the scene. I specifically went to the juniors coat aisle, to see the options they obtained. A white lady had a similar idea. When she looked up to see me walking towards her, her eyes squinted in disappointment. However, this wasn’t this worse thing she could do. As soon as my fingers shuffled through the coat rack, she decided to flee. It wasn’t like she was there for a while. We got there at the same time. I may be overreacting, but i can’t help myself. Why else would she leave? Again I may be overreacting. I mean, after all, she did come back to the aisle...after I left.

I have been told that I am emotional when it comes to strangers staring at me in public places, like soccer games, malls, restaurants, or being the only young person at church bingo nights, and supermarkets. Compare it to walking in with a light up sign saying ugly on my face, but with pretty cursive letters. Anyways. You get the point. Nothing really can be done in this situation. All I can do is wait for a better day.

You Will Not Judge Me by Johnathon Taylor

You will not judge me by my gender

Because women can be strong too

There are women stronger than me

That do things better than what I do

I will not stand by and let my sisters get judged by their organs

Because you wouldn't want somebody to do that to you

There will not be a difference in the workplace

Where women get paid less

Because women are strong

And not damsels in distress

We will make jobs more fair

And not have opinions in the case of business

We will not look at women like maids

And certainly won't look at them like a housewife

We will not look at women as only sex toys

Whose only tools are a vacuum and a butter knife

We will not force them to do actions that offend them or under actions to make them ashamed

We will improve women's quality of life

We will not judge people by gender

Because it is very wrong

We will not look at women as weak

Because they are very strong.

Let’s make women’s life easier

So that they don't have to struggle along

No Turning Back by Kaylia Walker

There is no turning back now. They say we don't matter, that we are just meant to clean and provide for their every need. Donald Trump said, "It doesn't really matter what [they] write as long as you've got a young beautiful piece of ass." Supposedly, we are nothing more, but I disagree. We [females] have been overcoming stereotypes for years now, we have become police officers, doctors, and scientists we have helped change the world just as much as men. We have done our parts in making a difference. They say "this is a man's job." I say, "watch out world, we're coming at you with all we got!"

Can compliance be a form of rebellion? by Gabrielle Gousman

The dictionary definition of rebellion is "an act of violent or open resistance to authority." But my question is, can compliance be a form of rebellion? In a way, yes. For example, someone tells you to stop talking, and you stay silent even when you are asked a question by this same person. Compliance is rebellion for the silent. It is for people who do not like to be violent and who are not for peaceful protest either. It is rebellion for the people with no voice, for the invisible.

But is it effective? In a minor rebellion against your parents or a teacher? Maybe. However, for something such as overthrowing a government, I do not see it as effective. You should want your voice to be heard, you should want to be seen. The way to make a difference is to resist society, not give into it. There is a saying that “well behaved women rarely make history." We cannot be “well behaved rebels." We need to take a stand.

We are Tea Bags (part 1) by Mariah Fields

“A woman is like a tea bag –you never know how strong she is
until she gets in hot water.” A quote by the famous feminist, Eleanor
Roosevelt. What she means is that we have always been
underestimated as women. “We can’t take the heat,” they say.
We are just good for doing “a woman’s job." It is a fact a woman
can do a man’s job,  and sometimes even better! This is the reason
women run the world. We face so many challenges, and still
manage to keep everything in order. Even in this terrible world
we live in without us it would not function.

Am I Black or is Black Me by Daishana Milton

It’s many things that can make a person, but do we define it by character or skin

Where I’m from it is defined by you or me

The place I was born was the same place as you what makes us different

Is our tones or attitudes

She’s light I’m dark both pretty much the same

What's crazy is we're twins of the very same races I lost because I’m dark you won because

You're light

Just because my skin chose black I’m not your type or even delight

Caucasian, Black, French, and Indian

Just because my skin chose Black I’m not your equal

It’s like racism has it’s second sequel

Hands up don’t shoot

She robbed a bank what’s crazy is

They gave me her place

I’m a beautiful African American

She’s American, too

I am smart with a proper tongue

She speaks in slang and doesn’t get things done …..then you come to think

How people judge me

As one of the black and free.

Soul Garden by Endeah Huey

She does not need to be told what time it is, because she already knows. It’s planted in the soil.
Enriched with minerals, and vitamins. She knows what she must do. She walks with a curve and turns at a glance. That soul woman.

Bounded with the roots of the existed, she grows. Acknowledging the actions of the past, and
grasping them. Chin up above the shoulders, legs glided and glows with a beautiful brown, bronze, light. That soul woman.

Delicate and soft, her body is filled with beautiful scarlet roses, with sharp thorns, if need be.
Her hands dances along with her flamboyant hips. Stares only makes sense. That soul woman

The fruits bounded along her branches are blessing to the people, that come from good. To gain,
and to appreciate. Sweet, juices from her wisdom, is what helps people to move along. That soul woman.

She has a guest, he is mesmerized. In love, he adores her, her touch send electrifying waves
against his body. Her eyes give off the vibrant glow of the moon and sun. Her lips, bursts with a warming explosions in body. Everything she does, he can’t seem to accept, believing that she is paranormal, that there is an explanation for such perfection. Overwhelmed with fear, he run. Leaving her hurt, in distress,
confused.
She now believe, she is not enough, so in exchange for her lover, she encourages a raid, plotted
against her garden. Left with ashes, she offers them to her lover, only to find out, he is filled with
another woman’s fruit.