From the day I met you I loved you
I stroked your fuzzy head as your friends bound my straight tresses into tight braids
We giggled at the way our noses looked when we drank out of clear glasses
I saved money for books, you for snake-skin dress shoes
You always look immaculate, and you still seem to love this hopelessly uncool sister of yours
You learned my language, and I learned your energy
We both loved pretend and dress-up
We were siblings, and that’s all there was to it
But some looked at you, my handsome boy, and they saw other
They didn’t want your soft brown eyes and perfect eyelashes anywhere near them
So we left
I wish I could have protected you from that
Who wouldn’t want you around?
We got older
You got more athletic and more handsome, and I settled in for weird
You enjoy nerdy things when your friends can’t see
I loved watching you run faster than all the other kids
Turns out you get sunburns, just like me
But some called you names, my little man, and made you feel lesser
They saw you as their ancestors saw yours, even those who professed to know better
I raged against them
I wish I could have protected you from that
Why couldn’t they see you as I saw you?
We’re adults now
The way you move drives girls crazy
I wish you could teach me to dance
We watched all the Marvel movies together, and you laughed at me when I cried in them
You shot up past my chin and well over my head
You seem more like my protector now than I do yours
But now we have conversations about how others see you
You laugh, but I know it hurts
Will you be safe when you drive?
When you run?
When you apply for jobs?
When you’re alone?
I wish I could be an ever-present army to protect you, or a walking slideshow displaying who
you really are
You and I – we’re so similar and so different
The way my skin shows every blush and the way yours gets ashy
It’s beautiful, unique, us
Sometimes our differences make us laugh
But you’re my brother, and that’s that
I pray everyone else could see that because I couldn’t bear to lose my handsome young man
This poem is halting because I am afraid
It ends suddenly because our ending is unwritten
Those of us with little melanin often struggle with little vision
That’s the American dream, right?
Pull yourself, and maybe your immediate family, up by your bootstraps, and let everyone else
mind their own business
Dear saint, you have forgotten so soon where your self and your family lie
Your self – crucified with Christ
Your family – his body, his bride, the church
And that everyone else?
Your neighbors, coworkers, and fellow humans?
Those might just be your future family members
Those walking, talking, crying, laughing, working, sleeping, eating, and living pictures of God
When you see the news, don’t let your first response be
I’m so glad that’s not my son
I’m thankful I don’t have to worry about my brother like that
Think about what family means
You better believe you have black sons, daughters, brothers and sisters
So saint, what will you, in the power of the crucified minority-group Savior, do to protect your
family?
Because I’m tired of seeing brothers who look so much like my little man dying while their own
family looks the other way
Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on us
-by Camille Sunshine
Camille is a student at Moody Bible Institute studying Applied Linguistics. She loves old books, big trees, and finding the truth, beauty, and goodness of God in sacrament and story
