Exposed: II Edition

By Deborah Jean Burris Kitchen Ph.D

While many might say that America has overcome racism - unfortunately, This is far from the truth. People are still losing their lives for unjust reasons at the hands of those meant to protect them. Today, more than ever, we need to ask if things will ever get better and if things will ever change. The fa

• Language: English
• Publisher: the kdp publisher
• Release date: Jan 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869183491

Book preview

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my mother (Carol Ann Goll Burris) and my sister Lisa Neal, both of whom passed away in 2006.  The year I refer to as the worst year of my life.  May they both Rest in Power.

Acknowledgment

I would like to thank several people who were involved in supporting me and helping me to complete this project. First, I would like to thank my husband, Ricky S. Kitchen, who has always been there for me over our 35 years of marriage. Without his love and support, I could never have completed this book. He continues to encourage me to follow my dreams.

I want to thank my father, Steve Burris, my stepmother, Lee Burris, and my brother, Mark Burris, who spent countless hours listening to me and reading my poems aloud over the phone. They always dropped what they were doing and listened intently. They gave me a voice. I would also like to thank my brother, Paul Burris, and my sister, Susan Burris Gude, for always reassuring me as they responded positively to each poem.

Thank Dr. Heidi M. Williams for agreeing to take photos and create images for several poems. She is a very gifted, generous, and talented friend and colleague.

Thank you to my friend, colleague, and extraordinarily talented, world-renowned artist, Professor Michael McBride, for agreeing to design the cover and create an illustration for the poem September in Alabama, 1944. For his generous contribution to this project, I will forever be grateful.

In addition, I would like to thank my daughter, Ashley Elizabeth Burris-Kitchen, for being my motivation for wanting to write and dedicate this book to young women everywhere. Her strength inspires me every day. I also want to thank her friend Bryceton Mitchell for his support and inspiration and his twin Brittain Mitchell for agreeing to model for photos taken by my daughter for two poems.

Thank you, Mark Gragg for being so kind and smiling at me every morning while we pass. Reflecting on what it means to me as our paths cross many mornings gave me the canvas to create the poem A Love that Passed. Also, thank you for agreeing to be the image that authenticates the poem.

I would be remiss if I did not thank my sister-in-law, Deborah Albert Kitchen, for her willingness to read through my manuscript and make valuable contributions to the final document.

Thank you, Dr. Michelle Pinkard and the Soul Fire poetry group, for pushing me to write and helping me fall back in love with poetry again.

Finally, I thank all my Facebook friends and supporters for the thousands of likes and comments over the past two years. Your A picture containing wheel Description generated with very high confidence Icon Description generated with very high confidence and encouraged me to write a little daily. Your positive feedback on my poems inspired me to move forward with the publication of this book. I appreciate our friendship.

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgment

Chapter One Love and Respect

To be Short, Blonde, Female, and White

Chaparra, rubia y mujer blanca

A Note to My Father

A letter to my Mother

Short Changed: The Narcissistic Twin

Fire in my Soul

Ricky

A Myth Too Dangerous to Believe In

A love that passed

Moments Not Yet Known

Chapter 2 Women’s Victimization, Empowerment, and Freedom

Judge Me; I Don’t Mind

Brittain

But my babies I must feed

Keep your hands off them

BUT HE DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I KNOW YOU

Should a poem about Rape be written?

Dirty Laundry

Girls: Don’t Let him

The Final Beating

Sarah

Superhero

Now that the future has become the past

Chapter 3 Poems of Protest and Change

Paul Laurence Dunbar and Maya Angelou

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

September in Alabama, 1944

I read about you in the newspaper today

A Seat at the Table

Climate Change

Exposure of a Caste

Look Me in the Eyes

When I say Good Morning

I Blocked them Today

Canvas of My Life

Undomesticated and free

Masters of War

Someday

I am begging us to wake up!

About the Author

Photo by Dr. Heidi M. Williams (2022)

Chapter One

Love and Respect

Photo by Dr. Sharon K. Davis (1998)

To be Short, Blonde, Female, and White

No one respects me.

I love everyone, but no one loves me.

My skin color is a cruel reminder

Of what my brothers and sisters

Have done to people of color.

They may hate me for it.

My blonde hair is symbolic of ignorance.

Someone to be made fun of and called a dumb blonde.

It is a symbol of someone to be looked at as a sex object,

Someone to be taken advantage of.

Because of my hair color, no one thinks I know anything,

But the weight of the knowledge I carry on my shoulders

It is enough to destroy me.

They don’t respect what I know.

Because I am short, it is assumed I am much younger

And more naïve than I perceive myself to be.

People talk down to me in a paternalistic manner.

They don’t respect me.

I cannot change who I am,

But what I have to say is very important.

When will people understand?

But they don’t respect me.

Burris-Kitchen, D. (2002). Short Rage: Heightism in America (p. 9). Santa Barbara, CA: Fithian Press.

Photo by Dr. Heidi M. Williams (2022)

Chaparra, rubia y mujer blanca

Nadie me respeta.

Quiero a todos, pero nadie

Me quiere.

El color de mi piel exhibe recuerdos

Crueles de lo que mis hermanos le han hecho

A las gentes Morenas/Negras

Quizás me odien por esto.

Mi pelo rubio es un símbolo de ignorancia.

Es un símbolo que atrae la atención

Como un objeto sensual que se puede abusar.

Por mi pelo rubio, nadie

Cree que sepa algo.

Pero el peso de lo que sé, lo cargo en mis hombros,

Y es bastante como para destruirme.

Ellos no respetan lo que sé.

Porque soy chaparra me toman

Por más joven e inocente

De lo que yo creo ser.

Me hablan como mis padres me hablarían.

Ellos no me respetan.

No puedo cambiar la persona que soy.

Pero lo que tengo que decir es muy importante.

¿Cunado entenderá la gente?

Ellos no me respetan.

Burris-Kitchen, D. (1996). Chaparra, rubia y mujer blanca. (A. Rojo & F. Ochoa, Eds.) La Vernácula University of La Verne Latino Community Magazine, 6–6.

Deborah Burris

A Note to My Father

Dear Father,

The greatest gift a father can give

is that of showing their children where to begin

to fight the battle for equality and justice for all,

no matter the color of someone’s skin.

I know this because that is what you have done

and continue to do for your kids.

Thank you, Dad, for the grassroots work throughout the decades.

I have watched you.

I saw your face as the tears rolled down your cheeks

when you heard about the assassinations of

Evers, JFK, Hampton, Malcolm, and King.

I saw you silently cry when you heard about the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing.

And the prayers you said for the children who died that day.

I saw you every Sunday standing at the pulpit

preaching only love, never hate.

I even took notes on many of those Sundays.

Your message of equality and justice for all is one I can never forget.

I have fought the same battles as you now that I am grown.

But sadly, hate of the other continues to destroy our nation, accelerating at speeds fast enough to take down the strongest foundations.

Eradicating all the progress your generation had seen.

Spinning out of control, eradicating the mural you had painted

reflecting your vision of peace, love, and unity.

The battles you had won had brought about positive change,

but unfortunately, the advancements made in the 60s and 70s

were stopped dead in their tracks, and the dream didn’t last.

We shall overcome someday was quickly overshadowed by the "War on