Labels

You look at me, and you see...
A white girl.
Blonde, fairly short.
Speckled skin.
You see the dot on my nose?
You see my clothes and my face, what I can't erase.
But I've learned to embrace this race of mine I like to call Kate.
It's me, who I am. My name. My label. By which I am defined.
It's what you judge me by.
You may have heard that I'm Jewish, that I'm straight, maybe gay!? I don't know. Do you know? Does it matter? Maybe not? Could it be? That what defines you could define me? Do we need these definitions? It seems they cause continuous traditions of inhibitions. And submissions to hate. Let's make it our mission to end all divisions. And envision a day where gay and straight, and those in between, and black and white are not what they seem. A day where these colors can unite and connect, leaving their baggage of hatred to collect, and fade away. A day where love will infect, and inspire respect, so our children can reflect upon the joy we try to protect.

I am here to affect.

To collect a little bit from you and little bit from me and create a beauty for everyone else to see. And feel. And live. I am here to give. Whatever is left after this poem.