Refueled thoughts on a racially ambiguous slur,
That I try to avoid at all cost,
“Nigger!” – Shocking! Isn’t it?
The mere creation, evidence of this “Word,”
A dark history, pronunciation, enunciation, and historical
Use by oh so many,
Its perceived meaning – attached depth of emotion,
Blatantly contrary to the core of man’s sense of being,
And the true purpose of humanity,
Death and Life in the power of this “word,”
“They that love it shall eat the fruits thereof,”

Missouri, the 1950’s, at the age of 10 years old,
I went for a walk with an older family friend,
Downtown on the east end,
We decided to stop for a bite at a sit-down-to-be-served place,
Something, the poor rarely experienced,
Excited about a great tasting burger and an syrupy,
Old-fashioned fountain cherry coke,
Bubbling with joy, I couldn’t wait to get there you see!
So, I skipped on ahead, gleefully, as children can be,
I remembered being so happy,
As I reached the coffee shop door,
Turning the knob I stepped, only, one foot inside,
When I raised-up my head, just in time to see,
This big burly man, wearing a white t-shirt, tied in half,
Hanging under the biggest beer-belly I had ever seen,
Menacingly barreling toward me with an ugly scowl,
Forcefully bellowed in a deep, annoyed, threatening tone -
“Little girl, we don’t serve “Niggahs” here! He proclaimed!

Instantly – within seconds, my exuberance was literally
Swept away!

As the door closed in my face,
I stood for a second in stunned disbelief,
A deep sense of emptiness began to envelope me,
Naivetè, experiencing for the first time,
The impact of this “word,” and all that it implied,
Even to innocence, that “word”, the glaringly pin-drop silence,
Ominous stares from all of the others, who were there,
Spoke deeply to the core of my spirit,
A sad, tragic feeling of separatism,
A sense of being made to feel, as though, I was different,
More confusingly – that I was not worthy!
I Different! Not Worthy? – Never a concept or An inkling of desire to embrace – Never…Ever!