Kai Wells, 12 (Maryland) Black God created us hoping we would be equal Not knowing that some would be treated differently Killed Murdered Shot Black You turn on the news and someone was killed… AGAIN Police offering us to God as if we are chocolate Our voices shut down before they can be heard Say their names They all matter Black Lives Matter Trayvon Martin Tamir Rice George Floyd Phillip White Michael Brown Sandra Bland Eric Garner Mya Hall Breonna Taylor All people who died JUST FOR BEING BLACK All of them had families who cared Some had kids Some had siblings All expecting their loved one to come home Only to find they were murdered Imagine the tears Imagine the heartbreak Can you imagine that Or are you too busy trying to keep America safe from “threats” Trying to keep them safe from black people Because when do kids like me go from cute and precious To dangerous and a threat to their community Like MLK I have a dream A dream that sometimes feels like an unknown reality A dream that feels fake I dream for black men and women to walk freely Without the fear that their lives are in danger No one should have to feel that they are constantly being judged No one should have to feel that they have to watch their back every living moment No mother should feel that feeling You know that feeling When you feel that something isn’t right They shouldn’t have to feel that but they do and it’s ten times worse They shouldn’t have to worry if they send their child out to play They shouldn’t have to worry if their husband is late from work They shouldn’t have to worry that their loved one might get killed Imagine that pain Imagine that worry It’s real Every mother of a young black child has felt it Every child should be able to walk down the street not considered a threat Every child should be able to wear a hoodie if it’s cold outside Every young boy should be able to play with a toy gun if they choose to Every young girl should be able to express themselves freely and not be stereotyped as a mad black girl But you don’t care You never care Because all we are to you is A threat Different Lower than Black Ever since slavery there has always been that sense of hope That the next generation would have it better But deep down they know It never gets better for us They are afraid of us Who is us Black We need to stand up Rise up Stand tall Show them that enough is enough I dream that black mothers can one day let their child outside knowing they will be safe But for now We show them that enough is enough We show them that they can never tear us down Why Because we are black We are black on black on black And we will fight until this injustice is brought to a stop Dear Moma I am a human I live in this country I call home… ish I may look different I may have different hair I may have different ancestry I may not look like the people on tv unless they were from the news stories I may not look like my friends But I am human And every day I leave home my moma says she loves me I think it’s just a saying But it’s true For my moma she loves me She loves my heart and soul Even though people would kill Just to kill it I didn’t know what this love meant Until I heard the stories For people who look like me are illegal For I am out of my own control For I can, no, will be called an n- But I don’t care I block them out Cause there will be that day When that red and blue comes hand on that protection shield Protection from what, from me That protection is the same thing that sent so many to be with many more But I will come home tonight I promise Love— BANG!!!! Time stops buts speeds up at the same time The pain, as I slowly drown in a red storm Darkness Then light… the light P.S. I love you too, Moma Bum Bum Bum Bum Bum Bum The sound of the music goes bum bum bum The beat keeping me on this planet goes bum bum bum bum Although people have the desire to end it mid-sentence But all these beats join the crowd in the sky But the beat of my soul goes on Even when people want me torn into shreds For being the illegal color that I am in this one-sided world It keeps bum bum bumming Forever The soul lives on And the beat keeps going Bum bum bum bum bum bum These poems were sent to us as part of our Classroom Submissions (for teachers only) Program. If you are a teacher of children 13 and younger and would like to submit your students’ work to Stone Soup, please do so via our Submittable.
Young Bloggers
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Reviewed by Daniel, 10
In The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Robert Louis Stevenson tells the story of a man with a split personality. Wanting to split the bad part of himself from the good, Jekyll develops a potion. However, when he drinks it, he is horrified to have taken the form of a monster named Edward Hyde. Luckily, he can switch between the two by drinking the potion again. Jekyll becomes almost addicted to using the potion, but one day, he goes to bed as Jekyll and wakes up as Hyde. Terrified, Jekyll stays away from the potion for a good two months, and all seems to be fine. However, Jekyll succumbs once again, and drinks the potion. From then on, Hyde would always pop out eventually, even when Jekyll didn’t drink the potion. Although many people seem to think Jekyll is the tragic victim of this book, Hyde is the true victim of all this mess. Firstly, Hyde has no choice but to commit atrocities, which cause him to be persecuted and eventually leads to the destruction of both him and Jekyll. Hyde is created by Jekyll as a monster, a being with no conscience. Because there is no part of him that holds himself accountable for committing crimes, the nature of humanity naturally tugs him towards said crimes. Although Hyde is the one who committed the crime, it was effectively Jekyll who “forces” Hyde to commit these crimes. As an analogy to Frankenstein, Jekyll plays the role of Frankenstein, and Hyde plays the role of Frankenstein’s monster in this book. It is quite clear in Frankenstein that the monster is the true victim, and thus in this story Hyde is the victim, because he is essentially forced by Jekyll to suffer punishment for committing crimes. In addition to this, Hyde is also not allowed to be free, as Jekyll keeps suppressing the Hyde inside of him. If Hyde is the victim, then quite obviously Jekyll is the corresponding culprit, for many reasons. Mainly, Hyde was born from Jekyll’s own moral faults and even a glint of greed. We have already established that the very existence of Hyde is a crime committed by Jekyll, and moreover, this crime is committed on the basis of moral faults and greed; Jekyll wants to be perfect, and thus wishes to separate his bad self from his good self. It’s easy to feel sympathetic for Jekyll, seeing as moral faults and greed are an integrated part of human nature, but the pain Hyde suffers is far worse. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. Longman’s Green & Co., 1886. Buy the book here and support Stone Soup in the process!
How Nationality Affects the Eyes, a personal narrative by Sue Park, 12
Sue Park, 12 (South Korea) How Nationality Affects the Eyes Sue Park, 12 I still remember the day my teacher introduced me to the project. It was a cloudy day in April 2019, and the whiteboard had consisted of three bloody-red words that frightened most of the children: North-Korean Interview. I did love projects and adventurous trips at that time, but I knew this trip would be different, and somewhat spectacular. I had planned the new unit, different countries and cultures, to be about the ‘normal’ countries, not the countries that were known for their militaries and strict dictatorships, like North Korea. To make matters worse, I had always thought negatively about North Korea and its citizens. From school and TV shows, I naturally had a lot of prejudice about the place as it was planted in my mind as a brutal and unstable country with violent people. Additionally, I grew up watching the immense tension between the two countries in practically every political or social issue. It was incredibly easy to find news articles about the unbelievable actions of the North-Korean government officials, primarily Kim Jong-Un. … I stood in the middle of the hallway, frightened. I took a deep, slow breath as I took a giant step through the whooshing crowd of children. I quickly scanned the group of kids next to me; they looked like 3rd-graders that were enjoying the trip. I was blankly staring at them for a while when I heard someone calling me. My homeroom teacher motioned me to come, then smiled at me. At first, I thought she was waving at the playful boy behind me, but as I stuttered, she came up to me and told me that it was my turn for the interview. At that moment, I screamed, inwardly, “I don’t want to do this!” As my teacher carefully held my wrist and took me to the man from North Korea, I did not practice my script but rather practiced the karate skills that I had learned in kindergarten, fearing sudden violence. When I finally reached the door to the interview room, which looked like a torture chamber, my teacher nudged me calmly. At that moment, my teacher appeared to be a frightful green monster pushing me to the town of hell. Recognizing my fate, I trudged to the chair and quietly sat on the corner of it, ready to leave at any moment. Surprisingly, the man didn’t look any different from a normal South Korean man. He had a warm smile and he did not wear the military clothes that I had pictured in my head. As I quickly scanned him and looked into his plain black eyes, there was an awkward silence. And it felt like a millennium. When I couldn’t stand the silence much longer, I blurted out my first question: “What is the main obstacle you have faced in South Korea?” and as he answered accordingly, my stomach rumbled with guilt and fear. The man calmly listed out the prejudices and perceptions South Koreans had of him, and how difficult it was for him to find a job due to the people neglecting him after listening to his North Korean accent. As he listed out these examples, my guilt increased more and more due to the fact that I could relate to all of them. As if he noticed my pain, he asked, “Is something wrong?” and I replied, “No, I’m fine!” But, I knew this was a lie. As the interview went on, and I watched others interact with him, it became clear that this North Korean man was a complete contradiction from the picture I had drawn in my head. He was completely different from the military that was portrayed on the news. He was amiable, friendly, and loved making new friends. He was not violent nor rude, but was careful with his actions and was very gentle toward all the students. He bowed respectively to any newcomer that agreed to take the interview and was more than welcoming to anyone that came across his way. I slowly started to realize that it might be an unkind mistake to overgeneralize North Koreans as the “antagonists.” I learned that without meeting them, we should not criticize a certain group of people just because of their nationality. This is because even though their nationality might have a rough background, their citizens might be different as they might not be influenced by these experiences. This is why the interview provided me with the lesson that we should not judge a person by their nationality. This experience definitely encouraged me to recognize problems related to prejudice in society that still exist today.
