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Why Open the Door?
Author: Veronica Diaz
Date: 2012-06-29 17:00:18
Category: all categories
Metatags: Women, Resilience, Canada,


 

Why Open the Door?

 

Why open the doors to your wooden house

if its dwelling on native land?

 

Your walls hold up the stench

of twisted laws that you share with no shame

the words calculating, discriminating, criminalizing

Laws that allow our forests to be scrapped

our land to be raped

Laws that not allowing all Peoples to have

basic education, or access clean water

laws that encourage assimilation...

more like assassinations of our Original and coloured Peoples

Laws that did not welcome the Kamagata Maru or many other boats

 

Why open the door of your home

if its still placed on stolen land?

 

The ceiling hangs to the screams that fight and

succumb to memories of genocidal schemes

The wall paper shows the blood stains

hidden withing the red roses

of international peace keeping pride

 

I see water stains, the tears shed

of all those of us who are constantly reminded

we dont belong

 and reminded we only have broken expectations

failed environmental protections

 

I see languages drained through the leaking window sills

and accents left at the kitchen sink

 

Why open the doors to your house

if you are going to shove me to the side?

 

The floor have tiles of written stories

being pushed to do the dirtiest jobs, the taxis, the nanies, the timmies drives

Why live through doctor shortages?

we are here! with our degrees and years of experience

never leaving us

 

The tiles show stories of us ignored

at the classroom, ignored in books, ignored in history

placed in stereotypes but given great parts

the terrorist, ignorant, uncivilized, unwanted

but mostly just silenced, unexistant

 

 

Why open your house

if you hide your bloody hands and wave your racist multicultural flag?

 

I was not invited to the table

No welcoming feast

I was not invited with the law makers

nor invited to eat with the old settlers

But I was made an accomplice in colonial practice and realities

 

Am I only your chess piece

in your capitalist agenda?

 

Why did you open the doors to immigration

when you hide your real intentions?

 

I found a table where to share

With Javeria, Kaneisha, Niyati and Chan

A table to the side

were it seems is where we hide

We share Histories Herstories

sharing the broken hopes

of a better future for our children......

but with their names and their skin

we see them falling dripping through the cracks

..of the system....or even leaving their lives

 

 

 

 

I feel the ghosts in the basement

I feel their sorrows

of all those broken souls

denied citizenship

denied rights to land, children

denied their language

                                                   culture 

                                                               beauty

                                                                           and voice

 

 

 

 

Why did you let me in

if you didn’t want me here?

 

 

 



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