What It’s Like To Be Swirly (A poem)

Like a chocolate vanilla swirl ice cream cone
It’s your friend pointing out you’re swirly
Not knowing whether to check black, white, or other
Being asked ‘So what exactly are you?’
As if you’re something completely foreign

Too white for the black kids
Too black for the white kids

Hearing stories of the cake topper at your parent’s wedding;
A white man and woman with shoe polish over the women’s skin
The clergy asking your dad, “You’re aware you’re marrying a woman of color, right?”
Being told your parents shouldn’t be married in the 2nd grade

Every shade from brown to white in one family
Mom is coffee
Reese is hot chocolate
Drew is carmel cappucino
Whitney is latte
Dad is cream
Reduced to nothing more than a coffee shop menu

Getting weird looks when you go shopping with your mom
People asking your sister why a “white man” picked her up from practice

It’s messy, frizzy hair
It’s not fitting the mold
It’s being a minority
It’s more than just an ice cream flavor

By. Camryn Williams