…..Am I Haitian, African, Jamaican, or an American black, does it really describe historically where I’m at; lately I been feeling if it’s too many of us, better bring my bat, somehow it all feels like a trap, I know other brothers ain’t envious cause we threw full bags of cotton over our backs, I know the Haitian brothers out numbered those creepy pale nuts like Lestat, that’s how they broke away and made the French go back, the African trauma goes way way back, they can remember when most of the slave masters were black, the Bantu did it with bows and arrows, this goes all the way back to the days of the Pharaohs, we all couldn’t have had kingly robes I suppose, or gold rings in our nose, some of us are descendants of the slaves that entertained black kings and queens in royal clothes, and that’s before the white man rose, our new identities don’t reflect these things I suppose, but yet and still we argue about historic fallouts and nationalities like it’s something we chose, we need to remember it was also black kings that had some of your ancestors hinging from their toes.