Professional development

My lizard brain on the defense

my clumsy tongue 

my crude crayon drawing

We are in a cold basement 

talking about race

it seems we collude 

to contain the conversation to a day 

here and there 

those of us in white bodies 

have gotten good at holding things off

turning blind eyes

quickly nodding, when necessary 

My thoughts are drawn back 

to myself

my lizard brain

my clumsy tongue

the muscle to pull them away and listen --

without my guilt ballooning up to block the way

or my defensiveness looming large --

the muscle is weak

unpracticed

like drawing with my left hand.

On butcher paper we are to draw

an early experience with race

my crayons don't capture 

my blazing cheeks

sitting in the backseat with Nina

as my dad grips the steering wheel

and barks don't say that.

I didn't want a brown mask

I said,

because brown is ugly.

She was younger than me,

but does she remember?

What would she have drawn with crayons?

So far my lizard brain

my clumsy tongue

haven't dared to ask.