THE NEXT PAGE
Students in the MLK Jr. Writing Awards explore the experiences of discrimination
Students in the MLK Jr. Writing Awards explore the experiences of discrimination.
For 19 years, Carnegie Mellon University has sponsored the Martin Luther King Jr. Writing Awards for high school and college students here. This year, the UPMC Center for Engagement and Inclusion joined as the contest’s community partner. The contest invites students to submit poetry or prose “dealing with individual experiences with racial difference and discrimination.” The winners will present their works at 4:30 p.m. Monday in CMU’s Rangos Ballroom. The public is invited. Here are two of the winning entries.
brave & true // the red, white, and blue, by Brenda Theresa Hayes
red // is the blood caked in the pages of my american history textbook and
leaking into the streets and news stories of my 16th summer
from young and old black bodies the anger in the air the stench of money the smell of greed
my mother’s accent, spilling onto her flag,
to the left of the hawk with a snake’s weight hanging from its beak it’s the color of my mouth –– summertime –– my little sister’s cold cherry smile –– her curls
flying, triumphant. white // is the smoke from gunfire that fills the sky
people watch this and do nothing
they know their cues, but never go on.
it is the hoods that cover the faces of hate
and the pale inconsequence of privilege
private prisons tall trees segregated cities
the color of my father’s teeth and my grandmother’s pearls, but somehow it is not Ours –– strikes
like lightning ––wakes me up, cold and impersonal. blue // is the hum and throb of the heartbeat the black boys who die quiet the black girls who carry burdens the stiff uniforms the rose petal bruise it’s the color of my memories –– i dip them in this ink and hope i forget them, but they stain the
inside of my eyelids and torture me when i try to fall asleep. ///// my grandma hides her horror stories with imprecision and alien conspiracy theories but I see them haunt her eyes and puckered skin
(the ghosts of boys and discomfort, every girl I know has them)
like the two boys I didn’t know, knocking on my car window holding the door handle, laughing at my head shaking no
(this is how the mixed girl’s heart breaks, that brown magic show)
they walked off because that was just another thursday
even as i parked my car and tiptoed to the theatre
they lingered in the air as I stomped my feet into lonely and alone
(because i am always lonely and alone)
Brenda Theresa Hayes, 17, attends Winchester Thurston School. This tied for second place in high school poetry.
“Where’s Waldo?” by Emma Steckline
I remember I was at a party once. It was a friend of my mom’s, and she was moving away. One of the organizers of the party had her cousin come over. I helped him set up the flowers and we talked. I remember he talked with that stereotypical “gay” accent. But I couldn’t assume anything because that would be hypocritical of me. I remember I hoped though. I hoped that he was gay, and at first this thought rang off the bars in my brain as something wrong. Guilt slugged through the veins on my hands as I arranged the candles like he told me to. I guess I felt bad because I didn’t want to push it on him. I have heard people throw around the word “gay” to anyone that fits the fabricated mold, and I didn’t want to be that person.
The more I thought about it, I realized that meeting him was a novel thing. That assumption I had was born out of a want. I never had any gay adults in my life before. I wanted somebody to look up to, somebody real, somebody who was proof that it isn’t something I will grow out of like people have told me. Sometimes I forget, since I am surrounded by teenagers who are queer, that we really don’t have that many role models. I remember seeing two women kiss each other and having to stop for a second. We might see this in social media, celebrities who have come out. But so rarely in real life do I witness the people who aren’t famous. The people like me, LGBTQ+ people who don’t have a platform, who just want to be.
It is like I am looking at a “Where’s Waldo?” book; it is impossible to find any representation between the busy pictures choking the page.
• The other day, my sister told me that there was now a gay character on the Disney Channel. My first reaction was fear — something in me didn’t feel right. I know it has been done well before; including people from the LGBTQ+ community in the media has uplifted me, has made me feel valid, represented, accepted. But the other 80 percent of the time, I am surprised the characters even have names because it seems like their only personality is gay, transgender, lesbian, etc. ... They come out, and all of a sudden their only plot line is their queerness. And I understand to some extent because we can’t ignore the oppression people face when they come out, the dangers even. At the beginning it makes sense, but I have seen the people around me as they are struggling with their identity, and it isn’t every single thing they talk about. It is false to make that our only story line, because we are not just our gender or sexuality.
All I can hope is that the newest member of the TV LGBTQ+ community doesn’t turn into just “the queer one.” I hope he is truly developed and stays as a main character. That he isn’t smothered in the blanket of his gayness. • One day my friend’s sister asked which of their friends were “the gays and transgenders.” We all laughed about it when we heard, thought it was funny that this was the only association we had to our names, at least in her mind. It managed to stick in my mind though; something about it made me squirm.
Last year, I finally came to terms with the fact that I am gay, one of “those people” — “those people” who every single day are reminded of our minority status.
Whenwe see our world powers, we are lookingin a misprinted “Where’s Waldo?” book exceptthe stripes on Waldo’s shirt are rainbowcoloredand they forgot to print his picture on anyof the pages. And there are different versionsof the book: “Where’s Waldo Book Two: CanYou Find Any Queer Singers?” “Where’s WaldoBook Three: Can You Find Any Queer CEOs?”“Where’s Waldo Book Four: Can You FindAny Queer People in Government?” The listgoes on and on.
America sits on copies upon copies of books with no representation for centuries, and I know it isn’t just us. I know that it isn’t just the queer community because even within, we lack representation. We pride ourselves on how accepting we are, yet still we don’t listen enough to the voices from queer people of color. But of course we couldn’t be prejudiced because we are oppressed. And we have made copies of the book, too, “Where’s Waldo Volume 10: What Queer People of Color Can You Find in Movies/Books/TV Shows/Businesses/Government?” The results are too slim to be acceptable.
Emma Steckline, 15, attends Pittsburgh CAPA 6-12. This took first place for high school prose.