by Ophelia D. Knight
Tell them you love them. Tell them not to worry. Tell them that things happen. Tell them that you’ll be fine without them; explain that you’ll miss them but you’ll live. Tell them that you will send letters filled with love and news of your everyday life. Tell them that you have missed your homelands with the rolling fields and . . . poverty. Tell them America just simply wasn’t meant for you. Tell them that you’ll send money, though you may struggle financially: they will thrive with what little currency you send. Tell them that you will remember their warm hugs and tender kisses. Tell them that you will call as often as you can. Tell them that you are proud of them and their bravery. Tell them they are Americans because they were born on its soil and know of nothing else but its familiarity. Tell them to be cautious. Tell them of the harsh stories of white supremacy and the tough reality of being dark-skinned in a world that denies so much melanin. Tell them to explore the world when they have the chance. Tell them you wished you had had the opportunity. Tell them that you will pray for them every day and every night. Tell them you will remember their delicate voices, the soft touches you know to uniquely be theirs. Tell them not to cry. Why waste their tears on you? Tell them they will face hardships. Tell them the sting of reality is much more severe. Tell your wife to kiss you goodbye. Tell her to take care of the kids. Tell your oldest son he is the man of the house now; tell him you are proud of his accomplishments. Tell your daughter, your sweet baby girl, that she is too sweet to shed such heavy tears. Tell them they have a right to live. Tell them that where they are is where they belong. Tell them that they should have no shame in their heritage. Tell them that they do not have to hide their culture behind closed doors. Tell them that there is no shame in who they are. Tell them that they are precious to you. Tell them to memorize their rights as Americans. Tell them that neither the Constitution nor amendments were written for them. Tell them that such things will not deter them from greatness. Tell them to find love. Love that is true. Genuine. Tell them that life will not be easy. Tell them not to be bitter. Tell them not to harbor hate for those who refuse to understand them. Tell them to remember you. Tell them to remember your voice. Tell them to remember your name. Tell them you love them once more and that you must go. Walk with a straight back: do not hunch your shoulders. Do not let them know that tears run down your brown cheeks with a silent quality. Listen to the uniformed men as they check you for weapons of feigned mass destruction. Go where they tell you to go and sit where they demand you sit. Keep your eyes open and your ears on alert in their presence. Do as you are told but do so proudly, with a stubborn set to your jaw.
Do what you must. But do not be surprised when you do not survive. A broken heart will kill you, as it was meant to, for life and love have no say in the world’s cruelty.
Ophelia Knight is an aspiring poet with a deep passion for exploring the intersections of nature, human emotion, and societal issues through her evocative and thought-provoking poetry. Her two most recent works were featured in the engine(idling (2024) and Paddler Press (2024). She hopes to one day overcome the whole starving, tortured artist thing (it’s a work in progress). As Ophelia continues to write and share her work, drawing inspiration from both the natural world and the cultural landscapes around her, she aims to inspire and connect with readers through her lyrical and introspective poetry. Ophelia was born and raised in the US.