H U M A N
by Zeynab Mohamed
I’m not my clothes.
I’m not my skin.
I’m not my hair.
I’m not your expectations nor your opinions.
I am Me!
I am H U M A N
Just. Like. You.
So tell me, how does the cloth on my head correlate to being a Terrorist?
And how does the melanin of my skin make me any less of a human than you?
And how can you say I am a thief purely because of my ethnicity?
How can you stand there and judge me as though you know my character inside and out?
What makes you so darn special that you can do and say as you please and I just have to take it?
Did God himself come down and give you a gold star indicating you are the perfect specimen?
Because last I checked you and I are more alike than different
We feel pain and heartache.
We have the same heart beating on the left side of our chest
We have the same blood pumping around our body to keep us alive
And when we are hurt we bleed the same warm blood, made up of red blood cells, white blood cells and plasma
We have the same pair of lungs.
The same eyes that allow us to see the beauty of the world that surrounds us.
We have the same mouth that gives us the ability to speak and express ourselves.
Except the difference between you and I is that
YOU choose to use it to hurt and bash me
and anyone who does not fit into your ideology.
Why is it that our existence threatens you?
Are you afraid that maybe, just maybe, you and I are equals?
Or are you scared that if we had the same opportunities I would dominate you in every aspect of life?
Maybe you’re just that insecure in your own abilities that you would rather knock others down just to build yourself up?
Zeynab has been writing since she was 15 y.o. She's a nursing student and avid book lover. She writes to express herself and to let others know they aren't alone.
You can follow her on IG here: @iiAmZey
The views expressed in this article are those of the guest contributor and do not necessarily express the views of Amara Collection LLC.